Time of death 1:17 PM on January 17th, 2026. I love a theatrical over the top intro, sue me.

This wasn’t supposed to be the next post. It doesn’t really make sense for me to dive right into the now before explaining how we got here. But alas, I needed an outlet and a small audience.

I have worked since I was 15 years old. Not a unique story or something worth bragging about but important to convey the gravity. I got pregnant in 2022 + immediately started looking for a job that was work from home. I wanted to be close to my baby and ditch the real pants vibe that an office brought.

I started my new job in Sept of 2022 and said, “got you suckers, I am pregnant and due in February”. Not really but it’s what it felt like. I liked the job enough and for that I am grateful. I left on maternity leave in February and stayed out for 3 months instead of the 2 originally planned. We will get into that on another day.

I became good at my job, made friends with my coworkers, and appeased my bosses. I liked having an identity outside of being a mother. However, as Max slowly started showing the signs of autism, the worries seeped into my brain.

How many weekly appointments can Max have before they fire me? Can I keep him quiet in the background while he’s stimming? Will they ever promote me knowing I can’t travel? Is this all my career is going to be? Am I going to be financially ok? Am I going to be ok?

Many of my days were filled with therapy appointments and hoping no one would ask me to hop on a Zoom. Relax, I was working! I may have omitted where I was at certain times, but I was doing the best I could and didn’t want to explain it to anyone. I stand by my work during that period of my life. I was functioning like a poorly oiled 1999 Honda. I was always stressed, catching up on work at night, and hoping I wasn’t going to run out of grace from my bosses.

I got laid off in October. It sucked. I cried for days. I had a flexible remote job that allowed me to take care of my child. Max has 5 therapy appointments a week, I can’t travel often, and often needs me to intervene + help w/regulation. No one was going to hire me.

I pushed that thought aside and applied for literally 1,200 jobs in the first month. Every interview, I made it to the second or third round. Despite, the advice of everyone to not share about Max, I did anyway. What was the point? Why set myself up for a bad situation?

I am positive at least 75% of the jobs Max was at least one of the deciding factors on why I wasn’t hired. I’ll delete this blog post when he’s old enough to read, so he won’t carry guilt.

I was trying to find childcare for Max, and it was imploding in great fashion. There is a few reasons this was a losing battle; Max has severe separation anxiety which is common for toddlers but often more pronounced in autistic children, Max is non-verbal, Max needs help regulating his emotions + sometimes lashes out physically.

Who would put up with this for $25 an hour if this wasn’t their own flesh and blood? How will he tell me if someone hurts him? Would they calmly + lovingly redirect his physical outburst?

For the first time in my job hunt, I had landed an interview with a non-profit, I was excited about. The founder even had a child with autism. This was it and I had already started thanking God and patting myself on the back for keeping the faith.

I had made it through three rounds of interviewing + then all hell started breaking loose. Max’s separation anxiety was manifesting in aggression and extreme dysregulation, and no one could handle him but me or his dad. To be fair, the signs that wasn’t going to work had been there all along, but I preferred delusion.

After one particular shitshow of a meltdown, I pulled out my phone and immediately emailed them saying I was out. I cried for an hour but knew I needed to be with him to help him have the best shot of succeeding in life. It was a sacrifice that I didn’t expect to feel so heavy, but it was.

I worked for 17 years and now I am a stay-at-home mom. I used to think they had it so easy. I pictured them drinking wine at the pool, making googly eyes at the lifeguard, and getting massages every day. I am sorry that I so deeply misjudged those women now knowing, they too carry burdens, pains, and fears.

As of now, I am freelancing to folks for a fraction of my worth to pay some bills and that sucks. Sorry, if you found this blog from Upwork but maybe you’ll appreciate candid honesty?

Maybe, I can go back to work in a few years. Maybe, I need to stay with Max at home for the rest of my life. The beauty is that I am now at peace with my decision to walk away from work. I would make this decision over and over again.

In the long run, who cares about a career?