I loved having time to work on projects around the house and I loved being able to spend a day curled up under a doona cuddling my tiny baby and watching trashy TV when that was all I felt capable of.
The main reason? Lucinda is loving her family day care. She's cared for by a woman, at home, in a place just around the corner from our house. She's one of four young girls cared for on the days she's there and seems to be having a great ol' time learning dance moves and having cuddles with her mates. They're all older, around two, and treat 'Baby Cinda' like a doll they can't get enough of.
That seems to suit my little extrovert down to the ground.
Some days I pick her up in the car, other days her father parks his ute at home and walks down to collect her, bringing her home up the street on his shoulders. The sight of them toddling up the road - stopping to look at trees and flowers and chat to (Dan) or cuddle (Lucinda) the neighbours - is positively heart-warming.
I always imagined I'd be riddled with guilt about leaving my 10-month old baby in someone else's care three days a week while I went off to work.
I'm just not. Not even close. She loves it. She's thriving. She's making friends. She's learning that not only do her mother, father and grandparents love and adore her, but a whole bunch of other people in her community do too.
As her mother, watching her forming her very first friendships outside her family just melts me and somehow I know that for us - for our little family in our situation with our child - this is absolutely the right decision.