#16 Is Daycare Right for Your Baby? What Christian Moms Need to Know

Discover the truth about daycare, early attachment, and the critical first three years of motherhood in this thoughtful episode. Karla Monterrosa offers Christian moms biblical insights and practical guidance to navigate cultural expectations with faith and confidence.

Key takeaways include:

• What attachment theory reveals about early childhood (John Bowlby & Mary Ainsworth)
• Insights from Being There: Why Prioritizing Motherhood in the First Three Years Matters by Erika Komisar
• Why babies don’t simply “adapt”—they cope
• The vital importance of the first three years in your child’s development
• Practical options for moms when staying home isn’t immediately possible
• How to face cultural pressure without guilt—focusing on awareness, truth, and invitation

If you’ve been sensing a pull toward a different way of living or mothering, this episode offers encouragement and helps you take your first step forward with grace.

Transcript

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Welcome back to Discovering Home. I'm your host, Carla Monterosa, author, speaker, and a coach for moms who desire more time and flexibility for their home and families. As a full-time working mom-turned stay-at-home mom, I understand the struggle. I once believed that success meant building a career until motherhood changed everything. Today we're asking a question that challenges what many of us have been told. Is daycare actually good for our babies? Not what's convenient, not what's common, but what's truly best for baby. And I want to explore this with you, not from a place of judgment, never that, but from a place of lived experience, the research I found and a deep respect for the role we've been given as mothers. This conversation is deeply personal for me because I didn't always see things the way I do now. In fact, there was a time when I was completely convinced of a different path. I always thought I would work full-time. I didn't think there was any other option for me. Growing up, I learned that being a successful, independent, strong, powerful woman meant earning your own way and never having to depend on anyone else. And never having to depend on a man. That was the plan. But then I had my first baby, and suddenly leaving her was just so hard. Not just hard, but unnatural. Almost immediately, something had shifted in me. I started dreaming of being home with her. But we had never talked about that. We had built a life that required our two incomes. There was no category for me staying home in our budget. So I went back to work. And every morning I would drop my baby off at daycare. And if you're familiar, and if you've ever left your baby in daycare or even with a sitter, and every morning that I would drop off my baby at daycare, she would cry. She would cling to me. Sometimes she would look away from me when I picked her up, almost like she was upset with me. This was so heart-wrenching that we decided my husband would be the one to drop off and pick up for a time. Not only that, my commute didn't really, my work and commute didn't really allow the flexibility for me, the one to do those things, but also it was just so emotionally charged and difficult. It affected my commute and how I started my day each day and how I spent my working hours as well, because leaving her in that condition, it really broke me. I remember thinking, why is this so hard? Why does this feel so wrong? I would get in my car and cry on the way to work sometimes, quietly, privately, and I told myself what so many of us tell ourselves. This is normal, this is what good moms do. She'll adjust, she'll be fine. Kids are resilient. But today, I want to ask a question that many of us are afraid to say out loud. Is daycare actually good for my baby? And the answer may not be what we've been told. Here's the reality. From birth to age three, babies are designed to need their mothers as their primary caregivers. They've spent over nine months inside your body, hearing your heartbeat, your breath, your voice. The world they knew was warm, safe, and contained. And then suddenly, they are born into a world that is loud, cold, and overwhelming. And in that transition, you are their anchor. Babies are not born resilient in the way we've been told. Yes, they are born malleable, they will adapt, they will adjust, and they will learn to cope. But coping is not the same thing. But babies shouldn't have to cope. In those earliest years, you are the center of their world. So it makes sense, deep biological sense, that separating from them during that time can feel almost unbearable. That feeling in your chest when you walk away, that's not weakness, it's God's design for motherhood. There's a book that deeply shaped How I Understand This Today. And it's called Being There: Why Prioritizing Motherhood in the First Three Years Matters by Erica Komissar. She's a psychoanalyst who has worked with families and children for decades. And her core message is simple but quite countercultural. The first three years of life are foundational. During that time, babies need consistent, emotionally attuned care from a primary attachment figure. Ideally, their mom. She explains that when babies are separated too early, too often, or for long periods of time, their bodies experience stress. Even if they appear to adjust, even if they stop crying, that doesn't mean they're okay necessarily. It often means they've learned to cope. This aligns with what we know from attachment theory. And if you've never heard of attachment theory, it was developed by John Bullby and expanded by Mary Ainsworth. Attachment theory teaches us that a baby's early bond with their caregiver becomes the blueprint for their emotional world in the future. There are four primary attachment styles, and the first is secure attachment. This forms when a caregiver is consistently present, responsive, and emotionally attuned. These children grow up feeling safe, valued, and able to form healthy relationships. Then there's insecure avoidant attachment, and this develops when a caregiver is emotionally unavailable. The child learns to suppress their needs and appears independent, but internally they disconnect. Then there is insecure and bivalent attachment, and this forms when care is inconsistent. The child becomes anxious, clingy, unsure if their needs will be met. And finally, insecure, disorganized attachment. And this develops in environments of fear and unpredictability. And here's what's important for us to remember these patterns don't just stay in childhood. They follow us into adulthood. They shape our relations. They shape our relationships and our parenting styles. Secure mothers tend to raise secure children. And insecure patterns can be passed down generationally. A secure mother is not perfect. She's present. She's emotionally attuned, but now a note here on a secure, present mother. She's not perfect. She's present. She's emotionally attuned. She responds to her baby's needs. She allows her baby to feel without rejecting those feelings. And she doesn't rush to shut down their emotions. She helps regulate them. She sits with her child in distress. And with her presence, she helps that child regulate and transform that distress into safety, into trust, into safety. Trust and love. This is where my story comes in. With my first baby, I was able to take some time off. I had three months of maternity leave, and then I extended with three additional months unpaid. I ended up being home with her for about eight months. During that time, my mom made a huge sacrifice. She quit her job to help care for my daughter. For the first 18 months of my daughter's life, she was with me and my mom. But during that same season, we bought our first family home, the home we still live in today. And that move significantly increased my commute and affected our budget, as you can imagine. But it also affected my mom's commute. So eventually she told us that she wouldn't be able to continue caring for our little girl. So I had to start looking for daycare. And because of my own childhood experiences with trauma, I was very sensitive to environments where there wasn't strong oversight. I looked at a variety of different types of daycares. I looked at in-home daycares first, but I quickly knew that wasn't an option for me. Because of my own childhood experiences with trauma and abuse, I was very sensitive to environments where there wasn't strong oversight. And I had concerns about leaving my baby in a family home where I barely knew the people, and there wasn't a lot of oversight outside of the caregiver. Then I toured a large corporate daycare, a chain of daycares. I still remember walking in. It smelled so strong of bleach. Children were crying everywhere. The caregivers were very young. And I knew these environments often had high turnover, low pay, high stress, and very little consistency. So that to me felt sterile, almost like a hospital, and I knew I didn't want to leave my daughter there either. Then I found a smaller daycare near our home. It was filled with toys, collectibles, little details that made it feel warm and inviting. It had separate rooms for infants, toddlers, and older children. The director was a bit quirky, but very passionate about her work. And at the time it felt like the best option we had. So we said yes, but I knew it would be hard. And it really was. Every morning my daughter would scream. She would cling to me. She would grab onto me, desperate not to be separated. And I was told, just hand her off and leave. She'll stop crying shortly, don't worry. But the truth is, she didn't. She was inconsolable for weeks. And when I arrived home, whether I picked her up or my husband picked her up, I made it a point to reconnect with her. I would hold her, nurse her, spend intentional time with her, and yes, she would calm down with me. But the separation anxiety didn't go away. It intensified. The moment she sensed I was leaving, she would begin to panic. At the same time, she was being bitten at daycare, and this is something I carry a lot of grief over. We kept her there far longer than we should have because I suspected that she wasn't being properly cared for if the caregivers weren't noticing these instances where my daughter was being bitten. I would often find the bruises in the shower at nighttime when I was baiting her. And sometimes they had noticed and called me ahead of time and said, you know, this had happened. Other times they hadn't noticed, and I found the bruises later at bathtime. And this is something I carry a lot of regret for. We kept her there far longer than we should have. But around that time, I was also pregnant with my second daughter. And I repeated a similar pattern. I was home for several months with the two of them. I even had surgery on both of my hands one at a time while carrying for and breastfeeding a newborn because I needed to extend my time at home. And I needed these surgeries for years. I suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome, and it has been a constant state of pain in my hands for a really long time because of the excessive computer use and driving. So when my daughter was born, carrying my baby constantly also aggravated that pain. And it got to the point where I was losing sensation in my hands and also having weakness in my fingers. And the day I nearly dropped my baby, I knew I needed to go ahead and have those surgeries. But I also knew that it would allow me more time to be with them. And so we made the decision to go ahead and have these surgeries, even though I was nursing a newborn. It was a decision that we made. It didn't necessarily make our lives easier, but I was grateful to have the extra medical leave to care for my babies. So this was a decision partly because I needed it physically, and also because I wasn't ready to lead them. But eventually, I had to go back, and both of my daughters went back to that daycare. That season was one of the hardest of my life. I thought something was wrong with me. I even considered that I might be experiencing postpartum depression. But looking back now, I can see that what I was feeling wasn't just internal. It was connected to what we were living. And I can also see my daughters differently now. My oldest showed clear signs of distress, clinginess, anxiety, difficult sleeping and separating. While my youngest, she was different. She seemed independent. She seemed to be adapting very well and enjoying the daycare environment. Sometimes she didn't even want to leave daycare when we were there to pick her up. And we thought this was a good sign. But now I understand it differently. And that was also a coping response. She wasn't securely independent as we thought she was adapting to separation. She was coping, and babies aren't meant to cope like that. They are meant to be held by their moms. They are meant to be soothed by their moms and cared for consistently by their mothers. So I don't say this to shame you, not at all. As you know, what I teach on and talk about is because I've walked this road. I've made all the mistakes and did the best that I could with what I had at the time and the knowledge I had at the time, as well as our circumstances. But today, looking back, I can speak on my experiences with greater knowledge, wisdom, maturity, and in the hopes that it can help young moms who are going through this today, so that you can trust yourself more, so that you can lean into motherhood without shame or guilt. So, our question for today, is daycare good for your baby? Here's the honest answer: not all daycare is the same. Some environments are better than others, but no daycare, no matter how loving, can fully replace the consistent, emotionally attuned care of a mother in those earliest years. And that's not judgment, that's just reality. Now, I also want to say this: some families truly don't have a choice. It surely felt like we didn't at the time. And if that's you, this is not about shame. This is just about awareness. Because when we know better, we can begin to ask better questions. We can begin to make different choices little by little. We live in a culture that teaches that your life doesn't really have to change when you have children, that you can step away briefly, have a baby, and then step right back into it, just as it was before. Sometimes I even see this in media, women portrayed as working from their hospital beds, anxious to get back to work or unable to disconnect. Even though they just gave birth, and I think, well, that's obviously not real. That doesn't reflect the physical, emotional, and spiritual transformation that happens when you give birth. The messages we're given is that motherhood doesn't have to stop you, that motherhood doesn't have to change you, that you can still be who you've always been without losing yourself. But the truth is, motherhood does change you. It's supposed to. Now, I know that not every woman is called to motherhood, and not every woman is able to become a mother. But for those of us who do bring a child into this world, it shifts you to your core. It changes your priorities, it changes your capacity, it changes your heart. Because you are no longer just caring for yourself. You are caring for a life that is completely dependent on you for safety, for nourishment, for comfort, and for their protection. And instinctively, we are designed to nurture and love our babies. So it's a lie that motherhood doesn't change you, and it's a lie that your life doesn't have to change either. Your life will change, even if you return to work full-time, even if you have childcare, there is still a child who needs you. And if we're fully honest, the right thing to do, the selfless thing to do, is to begin to place their needs before our own. And I know that's not easy. For some, that may feel impossible. For others, it feels deeply natural. But there is something incredibly sweet and deeply rewarding about being the one who soothes them, who nurtures them, who is there for them, especially in those earliest years of life. But really, at every age and stage, a mother plays an irreplaceable role in the life of her child. I didn't come home full-time until my girls were older, as I've shared before. They were in first and third grade when I stepped away from work. And even at that age, I saw a huge shift in our relationship right away. But before that, there was a season I haven't really talked about much, and that's that in 2014, I started graduate school. My daughters were two and four years old, and I remember a friend asking me, right now, your girls are so young. Don't you want to wait until they're older? And I responded, Oh, right now is the ideal time. They're not going to remember this stage. And while that may be true to an extent, what we don't remember still shapes us. It still forms us. It becomes the foundation we build our lives on. During that time, we were still dealing with the effects of separation anxiety with my oldest daughter, and my younger daughter was also showing signs of anxiety. Even though she seemed more independent. And she also became very attached to my husband. She became a daddy's girl, and nothing wrong with that. I love that girls are so connected to their fathers. It's such a sweet, beautiful, important thing. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I'm talking about her wanting to go to her dad even when I was physically there. Because I wasn't truly available. I was working full-time, I was going to school in the evenings, and in between, I was studying, researching, writing papers, and preparing presentations, constantly pulled in different directions. Looking back now, I can see that I was striving and hiding. And I was reaching for more in my career. I was reaching for more in my career because I believed that if I could just advance, if I could move up the leadership ladder, I would finally have more flexibility. I would see supervisors come in later, leave earlier, and be out of the office often. And I imagined that that meant they had more freedom, that they were tending to their families. But what I didn't realize at the time was that more responsibility doesn't give you more freedom. It made me less available, not just at work, but even when I was at home. I wasn't, I was physically present with my children, but my mind was somewhere else, thinking about the emails, the responsibilities, the demands and expectations that didn't let up. And this is one of the hidden challenges of our time, I believe. We are always connected, always reachable, always expected to respond. And that constant connection pulls us away from being fully present at home. But when I came home, everything began to change. I started volunteering in their classrooms once a week with each of my daughters. I became the one who dropped them off, picked them up, showed up to the meetings, events, and everyday little moments, and slowly we started to reconnect. I would bring them home from school, give them a snack, sit with them, play with them, just be with them. And yes, I had done some of those things before, but the difference was that I was different. I was calmer, less distracted, more emotionally available and present. My mind was no longer divided. I wasn't constantly thinking about what was waiting for me somewhere else. I could finally notice the small things, their expressions, their stories, their needs, and I could respond with patience and curiosity, with care. And over time, our bonds strengthened and it was repaired. Today we've been homeschooling for several years and we are close. We genuinely enjoy being together. Now they are teenagers, so yes, they're more independent and have their own friends and interests, and that's all great and beautiful. But when we are together, which is most of the time, there's so much joy, laughter, and connection. We're learning, growing, and doing life together, and it's one of the greatest gifts and joys of my life. Wouldn't trade it for anything. So wherever you are in your motherhood journey, whether your children are babies, toddlers, or already older, I want you to hear this. It's never too late. You can still have an impact. You can still strengthen your bonds with your children. You can still nurture a relationship that is loving, stable, and secure. Healing is possible. Connection can be rebuilt. And what you do now still matters for a lifetime. I also want to take a moment to say this clearly. And I'm going to cut this section and put it back up with the daycare section. Not all daycare is the same. There are differences in quality, consistency, and environment that truly matter. But I think it's helpful to look at this in terms of what is best to better to what may be necessary in a given season for a time. This first and best option, especially in those early years, is always going to be the care of a baby's mother. There is no substitute for a mother who is emotionally attuned, consistently present, and deeply connected to her child. That bond is unique. It's biological, emotional, and even spiritual. The second best option, if it's available, is a grandmother or another close family member, someone who will be a stable long-term presence in your child's life. Someone who knows your child, loves your child, someone who isn't coming in and out, but is part of their journey over time. Because consistency truly matters. And then what I initially resisted, but now understand differently, is that a carefully vetted in-home daycare can actually be a better option than larger institutionalized settings. Especially one that has a consistent caregiver or caregivers that feels like a home, not a facility, and that also has multiple adults present for accountability and safety. And I know that some daycares even offer the option to uh pop in and view what's happening on cameras, which I think is an added benefit. I don't know if I'm going to include that. Um, and it's also important that they ensure that everyone in the home has been properly background checked. And you should ask these types of questions if you're vetting an in-home daycare. I would have shied away from that in the past, but knowing what I know today, no question is too intrusive when it comes to the safety of your babies. But this kind of environment can offer more stability, more relational consistency, and a more natural rhythm for a young child. But even in saying that, I want to be clear: even the most nurturing alternative is still an alternative. Nothing is safer, nothing is more regulating, nothing is more loving than you being there. Ultimately, when I step back and look at all of this, not just through my experience, but also from what I gather in scripture, it brings even greater clarity to what our role really is as mothers. In Psalm 127, verses 3 through 5, it says, Children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb, a reward, like arrows in the hand of a warrior, are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them. So children are not interruptions, they're not inconveniences, and they're not obstacles to our greater purpose. They are a gift, a reward from the Lord, a heritage entrusted to us by God. And I love this imagery that our children are like arrows. Arrows that are formed, shaped, and prepared carefully before they are ever released. And where does that shaping happen? It happens at home, in the quiet, unseen, everyday moments, in the nurturing, in the comforting, in the consistency of being there. Because an arrow that is launched well must first be held steady, it must be guided, positioned, strengthened, and as mothers, we are part of that shaping process. We are not just raising children for today. We are preparing them to be launched into the future. And the strength of that launch is deeply connected to the foundation built in those early years. And Scripture gives us even more clarity on what that looks like in Deuteronomy 6, verses 5 through 7, it says, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart, you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. This is a picture of discipleship, not something formal, not something that we can outsource, but something that we live into. Woven into the fabric of everyday lives, we are shaping our children. And I know when we hear a word like discipline, many of us immediately think of correction or punishment or behavior management, but that's actually not where the word begins. The original meaning of the word discipline was to teach by example, not to punish or judge a child. That's what we're doing as mothers. We are teaching by example. We are the external guide for our children. The original meaning of the word discipline was to teach by example. We are teaching by example by how we live. We are the external guide for our children, helping them learn appropriate behavior, emotional regulation, and how to move through the world. And over time, they internalize what we model daily. It becomes their self-control, their self-discipline, their way of relating to others and to themselves. So our presence matters more than we realize. Not just what we say, but what we do, how we respond, how we love them. And that kind of formation doesn't happen in passing, it happens in proximity through being there. And maybe that's what your heart has been trying to tell you all along. And if you're feeling an edge to slow down, come home, and prioritize your home and your family. So wherever you find yourself today, whether you're in the thick of those early years, holding a baby, navigating toddlerhood, or making hard decisions about work and childcare, or whether your children are older and you're looking back and rethinking what it all meant, I want you to hear this. You're not behind, you're not disqualified, and it's never too late. Your presence matters. Your love matters. The way you show up today still matters, no matter how many years have gone by. And if something in this episode stirred your heart, if you've been feeling that quiet nudge that there may be another way, don't ignore it. Feel free to, I encourage you to lean into it. Bring it before the Lord. Talk it through with someone you trust, ideally your husband, and begin asking what it could look like to align your life more closely with what your child truly needs. Begin asking what it could look like. It's okay to begin imagining what it could look like to align your life more closely with what your child truly needs and what you truly desire. And if you want guidance in that process, I've created several resources to support you, and you can find those at my website at carlabosa.com. I encourage you to take my free quiz, download my guide, and get connected with me. I'd love to walk alongside you in this journey. You don't have to figure everything out today, and you don't have to do it alone. One prayer, one conversation, one small step at a time. You were chosen to be your child's mother, and there is grace for every step of your journey. Until next time, God bless you.