When Care-giving and Careers Collide

We don’t talk a lot about what it’s like for people when they are balancing a high-velocity career with caring for a chronically-ill child, partner or other family member.

I used to say I was lucky in my career, but now I can own that I have worked hard and I’m excellent at my chosen vocation.?I upskill. I learn from peers. I show up, I take on leadership when needed, I support my team, peers, management and the business with the highest of intentions.?

Of course I make mistakes, like everyone else, but I do the work of banishing my ego and taking responsibility when that does happen.?

There are times when those mistakes, those moments of less-than-what’s expected of me, happen because of the load I bear as a caregiver.?

That’s harder to admit than it is to admit to the mistakes.?

Take that in for a minute.?

Women, in particular—and let’s be real, most caregivers are women—cannot let even one crack of humanity or messiness show at work. We are achievers! We are super human! We are only focused on professional perfection!?

I have two children with significant, chronic and often debilitating health issues. They require many, many doctor visits—and medical professionals happen to keep the same work hours as the rest of us.?

At one point, my younger child was in the hospital for eight days. He requires frequent invasive testing with sedation. He needs monthly treatments in a hospital setting that take upwards of five hours per visit and always come with the risk of an adverse reaction.?

My oldest has a rare genetic disorder and multiple co-morbidities. She needs multiple types of physical therapy, talk therapy, psychiatry and many medical procedures and tests. Sometimes her bones just pop out of her joints and I need to get her from school frequently during the day, because she’s in so much pain. As I write this, we are in a pediatric urgent care, seeking an IV treatment for severe migraines.?

I spend a lot of time arguing with insurance companies, navigating labyrinthine and inhumane rules and regulations. I am constantly fighting with my children’s school district, advocating for the accommodations they need and are afforded under the law.?

I field disbelief, disrespect and ableism on behalf of my kids all day, every day.?

It’s exhausting, and in one way I am lucky. I have a spouse who shoulders this burden with me, even as he made his way through a doctoral program and now is practicing his craft at a non-profit.?

It’s hard to keep all of my feelings of fear and exhaustion under wraps all the time, especially on the days when my kids are really suffering, or some faceless entity declares their needs unimportant.

Some days at work, I have to be totally transparent and vulnerable and say, “I cannot be at this meeting, my child has a medical emergency.” Often, I feel compelled to detail exactly what that means, lest I be perceived as shirking my professional responsibilities. At times, I don’t know if this helps me or hurts me, but in the end, I have to step away from my professional self and become my caregiver self.

For awhile, I believed that we would change as a society, post-pandemic. That we would put our health and the health of our loved ones and the community before all else, as we should.

That has not come to pass, and I, for one, am not happy about this particular aspect of our “normal.”

I have great leadership. I am allowed room to care for my family, and myself. I am never asked not to take my vacation, to detail my schedule, or choose between the health of my kids and my paycheck—or my desperately-needed health insurance. However, this hasn’t always been the case and I know that it is never something I can expect from every manager.

No one should have to live with the fear that caring for a sick loved one could cost them their job. And, frankly, it shouldn’t hold anyone back from being successful. There can and should be room for both.

I don’t believe I’ll see this change in my professional lifetime. When I look at my children, both of whom are part of Gen Z, I see strong resistance to the norms. I see them reject the idea that they have to choose between professional fulfillment and their health. They give me a lot of hope.

As for me, I keep doing my best and trying to remember that no one is a perfect professional, parent or partner all on the same day. I keep expressing my honest and sincere gratitude for the peers and leaders in my workplace who allow me the grace and flexibility to shift my focus from work to family when it’s necessary.

It’s possible you don’t know what it’s like to walk in the shoes of a caregiver, so it is hard for you to understand those who do. Maybe if I keep showing up with transparency, it will make it easier for someone else who does.