My three-year-old son once greeted daycare mornings with pure joy. He woke up singing, raced to pack his tiny backpack, and couldn’t wait to walk through those doors. As a single mom, I felt grateful knowing he seemed happy and safe there. So when one morning he woke up screaming and begged me not to go, I assumed it was just a phase—another small storm in toddlerhood. But the fear in his eyes didn’t pass. Each day, the panic returned stronger than before, until it became impossible to ignore that something was truly wrong.
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