I remember the first time I grieved for myself (not for my child) after our daughter’s diagnosis with autism. I was at a wedding watching the young bride walk down the aisle. Her eyes shone with the promise of love and happiness—her future seemed bright and open with possibility. As I stood there, the reality hit me that that my life possibilities were narrowing. Tears streamed down my face. I was already sacrificing sleep, my health, and postponing the completion of my education. Later would come resigning from a job and needing to create my own part-time work. I grieved, but always had the hope intention of pursuing my career when my children were older.
They are older now, and I thought it would be relatively easy to return to a more traditional job after taking years off to care for my kids with special needs. Turns out– it’s not easy. I’m certainly hire-able, but not for the jobs I imagined as a young professional stepping out of a doctoral program. I missed too many years of full-time experience to re-enter the workforce at a level equal to my education and training.
