By Brea Harris

At 3 months old, my son was kicked out of his daycare.

I had spent my pregnancy navigating my city’s brutal childcare landscape — posting on social media looking for nanny shares, adding my name to year-long waitlists, and wondering how I was going to pay the astronomical daycare fees.

So when I found this place, I felt a flood of relief. It was close to my job, half the cost of others in the area, and had a gold star recommendation from a friend of a friend. It seemed like a unicorn amidst daycares. It seemed like the perfect fit.

Yet less than a week after I returned to work, I received a call asking me to pick up my son because he was crying too much. The next day, same call. After a few days I was told “it was not a good fit.” I had until the end of the month.

I had

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