There was never any doubt — I wanted a career. From the moment I completed my master’s degree, I was eager to work. Those early years confirmed that I thrived on solving problems and growing my skill set, even when the path wasn’t always clear. Like many women, I struggled to admit out loud that I didn’t just want a job to pay the bills — I wanted to climb the ladder.

I dreamed of earning a director title, perhaps even becoming a vice president or eventually running the organization I worked for. I was determined to put in the time and effort required to achieve that growth.

That game plan was simple before becoming a mom. I could easily justify the late nights, early mornings, and the occasional weekend catch-up.

When I got pregnant, there was no debate about returning to the workforce — I wanted my career. And as my maternity leave ended, I found myself desperately missing my job and worrying about how the motherhood penalty might affect my career aspirations.

I eventually accepted that perfect work-life balance was an illusion. My early days of motherhood — compounded by the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic — were spent establishing guardrails to be present both for my daughter and at work. More often than not, the scales tipped in favor of my job, and my husband had to shoulder more of the childcare.

Then last year, I embarked on one of the most challenging projects of my career. For six straight weeks — starting on Mother’s Day — I worked relentlessly, including weekends. I missed nearly every bedtime with my 3-year-old, catching only fleeting moments of her in the morning or when she sat on my lap as I answered emails. Unlike previous periods of focused work, my daughter immediately sensed my absence. She asked why I had to go to Boston and why I couldn’t play with her or put her to bed. She missed her mommy.

I vividly remember the moment, four weeks in, when I was one of the last to leave the clinic. Walking alone through an empty garage to my car, I sank into the driver’s seat and began to sob. The crushing weight of guilt hit me as I realized I had missed an entire month of my child’s life.

I thought that guilt might shake my conviction — that perhaps I could be like some friends who were content staying where they were in their careers. Instead, I found renewed resolve and clarity. I realized I was engaged in work that truly mattered, and I was the right person to do it — both for the teams I supported and the patients we served.

During my annual review, I was asked what I was most proud of over the last year. My answer? Those six weeks where I tapered down my role as a parent so I could show up for my job — that was what I was most proud of, without question.

I am fortunate to have a partner who steps in when I need to focus on work. Yet, the systems in the U.S. are not built to support women who strive to excel at both parenting and their careers. I continue to work on striking a balance that allows me to be fully present with my daughter when work doesn’t need me to be in overdrive — most likely a lifelong, evolving practice. I make it a point to explain my work to her, emphasizing its importance. I want her to know that she, too, can unapologetically work hard, aim for the top of her career ladder, and be a loving parent.

I share my story not as an imperative for everyone, but as a gentle reminder that it’s OK to pursue a career while being a devoted parent. It’s possible to work hard, earn your promotions, and still be there for your child.