As a child, I always thought I would get married and be a mommy who stays at home with her children. I never occurred to me that I would put my kids in daycare. But life is not always a nicely paved road, clearly marked. Sometimes you find yourself headed straight onto an umarked detour.

When I married at age 37, my husband and I both had promising careers. I had a great boss, managed a number of important projects with a great staff, and made more money than I knew what to do with. We had our first child, Randy, 10 months later and I took him to work with me to an on-site nursery. I would run downstairs to nurse him every 2 or 3 hours, watching the clock, worried about a looming deadline or meeting I needed to attend. Back upstairs, I’d be watching the clock, wondering if we’d finish up the meeting in time for Randy’s next feeding. Argh.

After three months of that, my husband and I decided to hire a highly-recommended college student to be with Randy at home during the day. I worked close enough that I could rush home at lunchtime and nurse. Back at the office, I pumped breastmilk and counted the minutes until the end of my day, when I could get back to my sweet baby.

This was clearly not the path I had planned to take. Why did I give birth to this child if I wasn’t going to commit to raise him the way I had planned?

When our nanny returned to college after three months, I handed in my resignation letter and took the job that I had really wanted all along: 24/7 mommy. It’s a glamourous position ("Mommy, you are so beautiful and your skin as as soft as a feather!"). The pay was great ("Mommy, here is a rock I found for you."). The demands were easy ("Mommy, read me a book."). I was constantly rewarded for my efforts ("Mommy, can I give you a squeeze-hug?"). I learned something new every day ("Mommy, which one of these is a pachysephalosaurus?"). My lunch hour could stretch into the afternoon if I wanted ("Let’s go to the park for a picnic and look for turtles in the creek."). I still had meetings ("Can Brady come for a playdate?"). I still had deadlines ("Let’s get over to the dinosaur section before the museum closes."). I had a perfect boss ("I love you, Mommy!"). It was the best job in the world.

Then, an umarked detour appeared, filled with potholes and slippery pavement. A second child, Woody, was born with multiple handicaps and severe developmental delays. Lots of trips to the doctors, therapists, emergency department, planned and unplanned hospitalizations. Having Woody made me appreciate all the more my decision to be there for my little boys. There is no way I could have held a job and been there for Woody.

Another detour down a very rough patch of road. A stillborn son, Julian Francis, brought with him a shining light in my heart that our children are truly a gift from God more precious than life. Our children are young for such a short time. When you hold a baby in your hands whose spirit has already left, well, if that can’t make you realize what your children mean to you, I don’t know what can.

Then the worst detour of all. Divorce. My ex-husband moved across the country. Could I continue to be a full-time mom to my boys, now ages 5 and 3?  I am still committed to being at home with them, but I had to adapt to drastic changes in our financial picture. I needed a new road map.

Submitted by Julia Haskett, NC