Five Years Forward: A Turning Point for Every Working Parent Carrying the Unthinkable

Turning Point on The Fifth Turn™

Holding my daughter's hand at the hospital the day she was diagnosed in 2020.

Five years. It’s astonishing how two words can hold so much — memory, relief, gratitude, grief, and a thousand moments I will never forget.

Five years ago, my daughter was diagnosed with B-Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). Two and a half years of chemotherapy — during a global pandemic — while trying to be somewhat of an asset at work, an all-star cancer mom, a pre-K and kindergarten homeschool teacher to my warrior, and so many more roles... all while doing my best to keep breathing when the ground kept shifting under my feet minute by minute.

There is no handbook for that kind of life. No roadmap for a parent who “sleeps” beside a pillow that has learned to hold fear. No guide for the nights spent trying to stop nosebleeds or rushing to the hospital because every fever is a medical emergency for a child on chemotherapy. On the quieter nights—when nothing urgent happened—I would lie awake listening for my daughter’s breathing, as if the sound itself were proof that she was still here. There is equally no blueprint for the working mother who learns to speak clinical language between calendar invites, who steps out of meetings to answer calls from the hospital, who becomes fluent in both the world of oncology and the world of work. Once survival becomes your full-time job, there is no simple way to return to the professional self you once knew. You emerge changed—tender, disoriented, wiser, and somehow both stronger and more fragile than before.

This anniversary brings joy — indescribable joy — but it also brings reflection, because alongside her healing arrived a truth I rarely name: when your child is fighting for their life, your own life pauses. Your career pauses. Your identity pauses. Every ounce of energy, ambition, and creativity shifts toward one singular mission — keeping your child alive. And when the crisis eases, the world around you exhales and keeps moving, while you are still existing in slow motion and trying to re-learn how to live.

The Hidden Cost for Working Parents in Crisis

Research shows that caregivers of seriously ill children are significantly more likely to experience job loss, workplace marginalization, or stalled career progression (Rosenthal et al., 2020). Some leave by necessity, others are pushed out, and many more simply disappear from professional momentum while the world keeps spinning.

A study from the National Alliance for Caregiving (2021) found that over 40% of working caregivers reduce hours, turn down promotions, or make major career changes due to their child’s health needs. Nearly 30% face financial strain that follows them long after the illness resolves.

Even those who fortunately remain employed — like I did — often return to work feeling years behind. Not because of lack of skill or a lack of dedication, but because the emotional, physical, and spiritual cost of caregiving rewires you.

You don’t come back the same. It takes time, but ultimately you come back softer and stronger, tired, but fiercely awake, and ultimately more human than ever.

Gratitude and the Long Return

I was fortunate. My employer supported me unconditionally — flexibility, compassion, space, trust. I will forever be grateful for that, but the truth is, no amount of support can erase the aftermath. When treatment ended, I was left holding a body that survived on adrenaline, a mind that endured medical trauma, a body that hadn't had a full night of sleep in years, and a heart that learned how to stay steady inside the unthinkable.

No one prepares you for how long it takes to recover in every dimension: physically, mentally, or professionally. How long it takes to feel sharp again. How long it takes to reconnect with your own dreams. In my experience, trauma bends time, healing takes longer than we expect, and caregiving changes who you are.

What Colleagues and Leaders Need to Know

If you work alongside someone carrying this reality, please know:

1. They are not “distracted.” They are surviving. Their depth of focus may shift moment to moment, but their commitment has not.

2. Flexibility isn’t kindness — it’s lifeline. Remote options, adjusted deadlines, and understanding save careers.

3. They are holding fear you cannot see. Even on “good days,” their nervous system is in recovery mode.

4. Ask what they need — not what you assume. Sometimes, it’s time off. Sometimes, it’s coverage. Sometimes, it’s a safe person who simply listens.

5. Their skills are not diminished — they’re deepened. Caregiving strengthens emotional intelligence, crisis management, advocacy, resilience, and perspective. These are valuable leadership competencies that translate seamlessly.

If You Are the Parent Right Now

I want to speak directly to the mother, father, or caregiver who may be in that season today:

Please know you are not failing or falling behind; you are doing extraordinary things under unbearable pressure. You are a rockstar!

Here are a few reminders you may need:

• You get to honor the pace your heart needs.

• Your worth is not measured by output during crisis.

• You will rebuild — slowly, steadily, in your own timing.

• You deserve support without explanation or guilt.

• Your transformation is not a setback — it is a beautiful evolving.

And please... when the world feels rushed, let yourself move gently. When others forget, remember that recovery is not linear, and when you doubt your strength, look at the child who kept going because you did.

The gold ribbon represents pediatric leukemia.

Reflection Prompts

For anyone navigating life after crisis — or supporting someone who is:

• What emotions or memories surface for you at anniversaries like this one?

• Where can you extend compassion to the parts of yourself still healing?

• What assumptions about productivity or “normal life” can you release?

• Who supported you — and how can you honor that support moving forward?

• What would it look like to pursue your next chapter with gentleness rather than urgency?

Closing Thought

This five-year anniversary is a celebration — but it is also a reminder that human beings are carrying stories we cannot see, that workplaces must evolve into places where families are not punished for loving their children, and that every parent who walks through fire deserves the space, dignity, and compassion to rebuild their life on the other side.

This, too, is a Turning Point — personal, emotional, and quietly transformative. For my daughter, for myself, and for every parent who knows what it means to fight for two lives at once.

Works Cited

• American Psychological Association. (2022). Stress in America 2022: Concern for the future, setback to school years.

• National Alliance for Caregiving & AARP. (2020). Caregiving in the U.S. Washington, DC.

• Rando, T. A. (1993). Treatment of complicated mourning. Research Press.

• Rosenthal, J. L., Li, J., Yu, W., et al. (2020). Employment and financial burdens of families of children with life-threatening illnesses. Pediatrics, 146(5).