I don't tell this story for sympathy. I tell it because if you're in a season right now that feels impossible, I need you to know that I've been there — and I'm on the other side.
The Hardest Year of My Life
During my last year of CRNA school, I found out I was pregnant. My son was a miracle — I'd been diagnosed with PCOS from a very young age and sometimes went an entire year without a period. So when the test came back positive, it felt like the universe was giving me a gift and a test at the exact same time.
What followed was the hardest season of my life.
I developed gestational diabetes. Then came postpartum preeclampsia. And then a near-death experience that I still don't fully have words for.
All while completing one of the most demanding doctoral programs in healthcare.
What I Missed
My days started at 4:30 a.m. with an hour-and-a-half commute, five days a week. On most weekends, I had to leave home to study at the library because if I stayed, I'd get distracted playing with my baby.
I missed his first steps. I missed the first time he said "dada."
Those were moments I'll never get back, and I carry that honestly. My mom and my husband kept me updated and supported me through that season. They were my village, and I wouldn't have survived without them.
Why I Kept Going
People ask me how I didn't quit. The truth is, I wanted to. There were mornings I sat in my car before clinicals and cried. There were nights I held my son and wondered if I was being selfish for finishing.
But I kept going because I didn't want to teach my son that you stop when it gets hard. I wanted to show him — through my life, not just my words — that you can hold two things at once. You can be a mother and a student. You can be exhausted and excellent. You can grieve what you missed and still be proud of what you built.
What That Season Taught Me
That season forced me to confront my limits, my strength, and my purpose all at once. It changed how I see resilience and what it truly means to keep going.
It also reshaped my priorities permanently. Today, I'm intentional about not working long hours. I choose balance. I make up for the time I missed by being fully present now — reading to my son before bed, doing little "spa nights" together, praying over him every night.
Seeing him smile melts my heart. It's always over the little things.
To Every Working Mom in a Hard Season
It is okay to not have it all figured out. Your children will thank you for having an identity outside the home. They will thank you for chasing your dreams — because they're watching, and they're learning what's possible.
It takes a village. Not the kind you see on Instagram — the kind that shows up at 4:30am to hold the baby while you drive to clinicals. A village is not optional. It's the difference between surviving the season and being swallowed by it. Ask for help. Accept help. And give yourself grace while you're building.
The season is temporary. The woman who comes out of it is permanent.
