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Torn to shreds

I'm torn. I'm torn between wanting that sweet salvation of the stay-at-home mom: the first year of full-time school and the opportunity to be what I was before: a solid, INDEPENDENT working woman. I could support my family, my husband could come home and be home. He could take lesser-paying local jobs and be home for dinner every night. We could get another rental, pay it off and then have that as additional income. There are so many financial opportunities for me.
But then there's my daughter. She's so incredible. I meant it when I told my father in my good-bye letter that I want to know absolutely everything about her. Even when she's mad (or annoying) I feel so special that I'm the one who gets to experience it. I really do appreciate every moment with her. I literally hurt when she's sad, sick, left out, or disappointed.
I should lead by example though and I want her to respect me and grow up with a mother who doesn't just turn on the t.v. for another hour of sleep. She should experience the working me, but what if it comes with the sacrifice of her firsts: first day of school, first ball game, first recital, first heartbreak?
But what if that's all for me? Because I felt so alone, I feel the need to intrude on every aspect of her life? Is it intrusion when I literally made her with my own body?
Oh, how I thought I wanted a boy. The day we found out she was a girl, my husband cried with joy and I cried with fear. I feared that she'd hate me, I feared that she'd be taken advantage of, I feared the "extra" work that comes with raising girls versus boys. I have to teach her how to behave, how to handle creeps, how to be strong, yet not bitchy. I had a misogynistic view/upbringing in/bias of the world. Now I cry that I can't be near her for every second of her life. That I can't ride the school bus with her for the first time and make sure that she's not scared, accepted. Her first day of school. I'll have no idea what it's like for her to walk to the cafeteria or if she's confused/scared at the bus line.
But am I also putting so much on her by wanting to genuinely be there? Am I the one holding her back or am I holding myself back with the excuse that I want to be there for her? Or both?
In swimming lessons, they decided (right before the shelter-in-place orders of the pandemic) that she'd be more suited for the 3-year-old independent lessons, even though she was two. I don't think that it was because of her exceptional abilities (although if you ask me that's exactly why). I think that it's because I was holding her back from being fully immersed in the lessons. She'd verify with me if it was okay and I was TERRIFIED.
So maybe it'll be good to have my "own" life and responsibilities outside this family. Maybe that's not only what I need, but what she needs to see.
Oh gawd did I throw a tantrum about it though. A full-on cry baby spoiled brat tantrum. In my defense though, my husband did JUST tell me that he's responsible for supporting me for the rest of our lives. #whiteprivilege #firstworldproblems