This is the entire text from a blog entry, but I need to share it all here. It seems dramatic, but this is how I currently feel: I can not get used to dropping Milo off at daycare. He has been going there for three months now, and it still feels just as wrong. Every morning, EVERY single morning I have to hold in tears when I leave him. When I leave him most of his awake hours of the day, with other people. His look, his arms that reach out for me, everything in his face and body says: "Mum, don't leave me!" and then I leave. I leave him, I feel like I am betraying him, I walk away despite of the fact that he tells me not to, that he does not want me to leave him there without me, despite of the fact that he is calling for me, physically reaching out for me. It breaks his heart. He does not know when I will be back. If I will be back. He does not understand that yet. I am not just leaving a part of my heart, I am leaving it ALL there with him, EVERY day. The weekends are the happiest. I hate Sunday night where I know that I am going to do it all over again, leave him FIVE times again. And again. And again. I hate the mornings, when he is walking around, smiling happily, not knowing what is about to happen, when he tells me things, laughs, shows me his toys, walks around in the apartment and plays on his little legs that still struggle to hold his body up with his arms up in the air, screaming little screams of joy. I hate bringing him with me in his stroller, he still does not know what is going to happen in a few minutes, he talks to me, sings, looks at me, smiles. I hate when we step in to his daycare and he hides from me in the wardrobe, laughs when I say: "BOOH" and shows me all the toys there. Because it all leads up to the moment when we walk down the hall to the breakfast table, where he suddenly realises that in just a few minutes I am going to leave him. Leave him with other adults, ignoring his cries for me and his attempts to tell me that he does not want me to leave. And I still leave.