Working Mum - I cried and she cried

I cried when I visited my daughter's nursery before she started. I didn't care about the fantastic activities, nappy changing policy or observations. All I wanted was reassurance that my 12-month-old would get cuddles.

I thought settling DD2 (Dear Daughter 2) into nursery would be easy. I'd been through it all with her big sister, DD1 (Dear Daughter 1), who already attended the setting. I was wrong. Leaving my youngest to return to work was equally heart-wrenching and filled with guilt, but the staff were wonderful.

The nursery staff told me that DD2 would get plenty of cuddles and the warmth of their actions towards us was also reassuring. They didn't laugh at my tears but told me how normal it was - I even got a hug.

A PROUD BIG SISTER

When it came to DD2's settling-in week she was already familiar with many of the staff and the surroundings from taking her sister there. All the staff, not just those in the baby room, addressed DD2 by name. I liked that they encouraged me to play with her rather than sneak off while she was distracted - as a friend at another setting was advised.

It was also reassuring to know that DD1 was nearby. Staff from the baby room and pre-school room agreed that DD1 could visit her sister whenever she chose and that they'd bring them together if DD2 got particularly upset.

DD1 is a proud big sister and thrived on the responsibility this brought her. The time DD2 spent at nursery gradually increased through the week, but unfortunately she would cry and cling to me when I kissed her goodbye.

As I left, I'd peep through the window to catch a glimpse of her snuggled against her key worker. I was jealous of a friend who could stay in the nursery and watch her child on a monitor during her settling-in period.

For the first few weeks, DD2 cried when I left her and cried again when she saw me in the evening. It would have been nice to actually see her being happy in the setting, rather than just being told that she did stop crying soon after I left.

Staff told me that I could phone as many times as I wanted to check how DD2 was doing. Perhaps strangely, I didn't want to. I trusted that they would call me if necessary, but it was nice to have the option.

At the end of my first week back at work, DD1 excitedly gave me a card. On the front was a photo of the sisters hugging each other and grinning with a message from DD2's key worker saying that they were happy. It was such a thoughtful gesture and remains on our kitchen wall.

One morning instead of clinging to me, DD2 put her arms out to be held by a practitioner. That she was happy to be left at last was a huge breakthrough. She didn't cry that day. But I did.