To work, or not to work?

I suppose there comes a time for most new moms when they are faced with the decision about daycare.  I'm struggling with this decision.  To say the least.  I've already convinced my husband and workplace to give me an extra 6 months or so, and let me tell you I am extremely grateful for it.  But I'm only prolonging the inevitable. 

Here's the thing:  Nobody else can look after my baby the way I can.  There, I said it.  Ha. 

I know there are people out there rolling their eyes and thinking what an uptight control freak I probably am, and I guess I'm not really in a position to deny such allegations, but I don't really give a shit either.  The thought of leaving my child with anyone makes me uneasy; the thought of leaving him with a stranger makes me feel a little crazy.  Visions of a cave woman come to mind: Some primitive cave woman backed into a corner by a saber-toothed tiger, determined that she will claw the animal's eyes out with her bare hands before she lets it have her young.  You get the idea.  A little dramatic maybe, but that's how I'd feel if I was forced to leave my son at some random daycare.  I already told my husband I'd rather quit my job, sell everything we own and move into a trailer before I'll leave him anyplace I'm not comfortable with.  He agreed with me, and that's why I love him. 

Now I know I'm not the first mom out there to feel overprotective, if that's what you want to call this (personally I prefer concerned, or loving).  It feels totally unnatural to be leaving him to go back to work...for what?  For money?  I'll do without it thankyouverymuch.  My priorities changed the moment I felt his warm little body next to mine.  I heard that in France women get two years paid maternity leave; now that's what I'm talking about.  Or how about going back to the Leave-it-to-Beaver days where women could just stay home, and one income was enough?  I'm grateful for equal rights and all that, but lets face it - I still do all the flippin' cooking and housework anyway.  Just gimme an apron and call me June Cleaver - and I promise I won't complain.

Now, I know there are some darn good child care people out there.  In fact I'm friends with some of them.  But that doesn't make me feel any better for some reason.  Because I wanna do it (yes, I'm whining a little).  I want to be there to see all his first things.  All his goofy smiles.  All his bumps and bruises.  I don't want to miss any of it.  Does that make me selfish?  And am I deluding myself into thinking that he wants me to be there for all those things too?  Or is my father right when he tells me that "there comes a time when a child needs to learn to be without his mother"?  True, I know, but is now that time?  Every bone in my body tells me NO.  Is this instinct irrational, or should I listen to it?  DOESN'T ANYONE HAVE ANSWERS FOR ME?

I know that I'll probably have to go back to work eventually, even if it's only part-time, until we can afford for me to stay home.  I dread it every day.  I just hope we can find someone I know and trust to watch him by then, so we can avoid the whole cave woman thing. 

To all the stay-at-home moms out there:  Keep up the good work, and enjoy every minute.  I envy you.