Daycare...Are you serious??!!

So, I decided to buck up and put Kash in daycare once a week for social time and to allow him to experience some time away from mommy, daddy, auntie, grandma and grandpa....his faithful caregivers. Thankfully, there is a woman who 98% of my fellow teacher friends bring their kids to and she just happened to have an opening on Wednesdays. Not only was she open on Wednesdays, but she only has one other little boy that day who is 1 year older than Kash. Seems perfect, right??!!
Then can someone please tell me why I am having such a hard time with this??!! I mean think about it...I know that the vast majority of kids go to daycare and parents work, and I am not saying that is wrong, but think about the concept for a minute. I hear through a friend that this lady takes care of kids out of her home for teachers and many of my friends have gone to her. Looking for a place to take my son, I call her. We talk briefly for a moment and decide that I will come over to meet her after school that day. (Her house is about 500 feet from my classroom. I could run there faster than it would take me to get in my car and drive.) We meet, we talk, and after about 15 minutes of small talk and a peak around her house, I decide that Kash will start that next Wednesday. I left feeling pretty good.
Then, I got into my car and my brain started to race. Was I really going to drop my baby, my most precious gift in the world, off at someones house that I had only just met for 15 minutes and decided I liked mostly based on things my friends had told me?? This is nuts! I barely let my closest friends watch him without specific plans in place, followed by dictated directions, cell phone numbers, hospital numbers, and poison control numbers! What was I thinking??
I call my husband for reassurance and he talks me down from my mind wandering craziness that has sent me into a panic state. He tells me that we will try it and if I am still feeling uncomfortable, we can figure something else out.
Wednesday rolls around and as I drive to her house, with my precious cargo strapped in his carseat, I am sure that he will just freak when I walk out of the house. He will scream, cry and it will be such a hard day for me! What will I do when I have to pry him from my arms?!
We arrive, head into her house and are immediately greeted with a bouncing 3 year old waiting for his oatmeal to be delivered to him. Kash is immediately taken in by him and is wriggling to get out of my arms and explore this new friend (and the large bowl of toys located behind him). We go over things and I hand her my perfectly typed, page long emergency plan, with numbers listed in order of who should be called first, should a catastrophy arise, and she comments on the color picture of him I added as well. I look up from our conversation, prepping myself for the streams of tears I anticipate to start at any moment, and see my bouncing toddler off playing with no concern of where I am or what I am doing. I slip out the door and without a look back, I am off to work...no tears. Not from him anyway.
Kash had a blast that day, and the next time he went as well. He seems to love being at someone else's house and making new friends. The person it has been hardest on is me.
I recently read a quote that sums ups this entire experience for me...
"Having a child is the most difficult decision you can make. It is to have your heart forever walk around outside your body." He is my heart...I love you buddy.