The Decision to Stay Home—And What It Cost Me

Part 1 of The One-Income Diaries

When we made the decision for me to stay home with our kids, it felt like the right thing—the only thing. I couldn't go back to my normal job (I had a traveling job... Traveling 3/4 weeks of the month). Daycare was expensive. I wanted to be there for the milestones. We wanted our home to feel stable and grounded. So we sat down, did the math (kind of), and said, “We’ll make it work.”

I thought it would be hard. But I didn’t know how hard.

I imagined I’d miss adult conversation or sleep. I didn’t expect I’d miss the feeling of swiping my debit card without checking the balance first. I didn’t expect the pit in my stomach every time a bill was due. And I really didn’t expect the guilt—the heavy, suffocating kind that quietly followed me through every day.

I Traded Paychecks for Purpose… But Forgot to Budget for the Cost

Before kids, I worked. I contributed, I had a good job. I could pay my part of the mortgage or treat myself to a coffee without thinking twice. But when I became a stay-at-home mom, all of that changed.

Our household income was cut in half, but our expenses didn’t magically shrink. In fact, because of the added expense of diapers, wipes, food, clothes and toys, our expenses increased drastically.

Suddenly, every dollar had a job—and every dollar that left the account without my name on the paycheck felt like a reminder that I wasn’t “helping.”

We started living paycheck to paycheck.

We over-drafted more than I care to admit. (Up until this point in my life I had never over-drafted before).

I stopped buying things for myself—at first out of necessity, and then out of guilt. A new pair of shoes or a $20 Target top felt irresponsible, selfish even. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t bought anything in months. If it didn’t benefit the kids or help keep the lights on, it didn’t feel justified.

No One Warned Me How Lonely It Could Be

I stayed home for my family—but I hadn’t realized how isolated I’d feel. I wasn’t earning, I wasn’t “producing,” and I started to feel invisible and unappreciated. My work didn’t show up in a direct deposit or get performance reviews. There were no bonuses for making it through back-to-back tantrums. I couldn't complain about the bad days because "I chose this" and I could "just go back to work" if I wasn't happy.

And even though I knew what I was doing was important, I didn’t feel important.

Would I Do It Again?

Honestly… yes. I love my kids, I love being here for the milestones, teaching them, and I believe this is the best thing for them while they're young.

But I’d go into it with eyes wide open. I’d want to talk about the sacrifices—not just the sleep loss or the messy house, but the emotional cost of stepping out of the workforce and living on one income in a world that keeps getting more expensive.

I’d prepare myself to be both proud and heartbroken. Grateful and overwhelmed. Fulfilled and still full of doubt.

Coming Next:

Part 2 – The Guilt of Not Bringing in a Paycheck.

How I started to lose myself in the stress of not "contributing"—and how that guilt shaped everything from our grocery list to how I saw my own worth.