Dear Lovie,

I am one torn mama. I stretched out in the floor of your playroom tonight, surrounded by hundreds of little pieces of toys and moving boxes, and I cried. I didn't cry because we are moving again; I sort of cried because I was packing away your "2 year old toys"; I really cried hard because I felt so guilty and I don't know what to do.

My ultimate life goal has always been to receive a doctoral degree. Here I am, admitted, funding unknown, thinking of turning it down. I don't want to put our family in debt. I could pay out of pocket but it means returning to a full time job, and a full time job means daycare for you. The guilt I would feel by putting you in daycare would be enough to kill me. And could I keep up the schedule I did while I was pregnant in my master's program? Working from commuting at 5:00am, working from 6:00am until 3:30pm, driving to the university, sitting in class from 5:00pm until 10:00pm and then commuting home? Being pregnant with that schedule nearly killed me. It would surely wear me out now. When would I see you, Lovie? When you were sleeping? What all would I miss? Would daycare make you sick? Would you hate it?

I don't want to lose my time with you. You are the only child that I will ever have. You are growing so fast and every moment is a moment I want to grasp onto and savor. I'm not sure what decision that I am going to make, but I want you to know that even if I choose to go that I am doing it so I can set an amazing example for you. I love you.

Love,