Cracked Open: On Daycare Drop-Off, Soft Returns, and the Space Between Us
My baby didn’t care when I dropped her off at daycare for the first time.
Not even a little.
No tears, no hesitation, just a confident toddle toward the toys like she’d always belonged there. I stood there, stuck in the doorway like my presence might somehow anchor her to me. But the truth was: she was ready. And I was too.
The Privilege of Readiness
It feels like a privileged thing to say—that we waited until everyone was ready. But it’s the truth. We worked hard and sacrificed to buy that time.
My wife was ready first. She missed me. She needed me. We had been living in parallel, our love stretched thin by time and nausea and exhaustion. This wasn’t long-distance in the traditional sense. It was nine long months of morning sickness that lasted all day and all night, right up until I was on the operating table having my baby pulled out of me.
Then came the real distance: colic, silent reflux, sleep deprivation, long days at home. I stayed with our daughter. I learned her. I memorized her cries and calmed her storms. And my wife went to work. She gave all of herself—every single day—to a job that demanded her best, while getting so little of us in return. She sacrificed being there for the little things so I could be there for all of them.
That is a love that rarely gets named. But it was the base we built everything on.
Moving Home Again
When I say I was ready to drop our baby off in the care of someone else, I didn’t know how big of a deal that was. I’m not talking about just letting go—I’m talking about coming home.
Coming home to my wife. To slow mornings. To soft cuddles. To pillow talk instead of whispered updates during the night shift. I’m coming home to myself, too—to a version of me that isn’t just surviving.
I’m deeply, eternally grateful that we sacrificed to make space for me to be the primary caretaker. And I’m more in love with my wife now than I’ve ever been. Not in a heady, newlywed kind of way—but in a rooted, hard-won kind of way. A love that holds when the world is shaking. A love that became the calm we built our daughter’s first year on.
What I Teach in My Childbirth Class
This is why I teach childbirth education the way I do.
In class, I give each person a blank circle and ask them to write everything they do in a day. Brushing teeth. Making breakfast. Returning texts. Taking out the recycling. Feeding the dog. Holding a boundary. Remembering to breathe.
Then I have their partner do the same. And then I hand them one shared circle. A tiny Venn diagram.
And I ask:
If this sliver of overlap is all the time and energy you’ll have in those first postpartum months, what stays? What gets farmed out? What do you need help with? Who can you call in—paid or otherwise—to hold what you no longer can?
Because this isn’t about being efficient. It’s about being real. Being resourced. Being honest about what it means to survive something that’s supposed to be “the happiest time of your lives” and often… just isn’t.
It’s vulnerable. It’s raw. And it changes everything.
Pregnancy and Birth Crack You Open
People talk about “bouncing back,” but that’s not what happens. Giving birth—whether vaginally or by cesarean—cracks you open. Then the work becomes not stitching yourself back together, but remaking yourself into something even more whole.
We don't go back. We grow forward. And that kind of transformation? It deserves more than hospital bag checklists and what-to-expect guides. It deserves the space to ask deeper questions and make honest, sticky plans.
That’s why my class is intentionally small—capped at six couples. It's why my upcoming childbirth workbook doesn’t just include logistics, but invitations. Reflections. Tools that hold, even when things fall apart.
Because this isn’t just about getting ready for a baby.
It’s about getting ready for the version of you that comes next.
Ready to Prepare Differently?
If you’re expecting and want to build something solid beneath the chaos—my childbirth education class might be the right fit.
Small group setting (6 couples max)
Expert guidance grounded in warmth and clinical knowledge
Real talk about the postpartum shift
Exercises to prepare your relationship, not just your registry
The next class meets July 13th.
👉 Learn more and save your spot
And if the timing doesn’t work? My childbirth and postpartum workbook is coming soon—sign up for updates and get the tools to prepare for birth and beyond, in a way that actually sticks.
