I Was Tired Of Asking My Boss For Permission To Take My Kids To Doctors. So I Became My Own Boss.

• My youngest son's medical needs turned caregiving into a full-time job.
• Even part-time and remote work didn't give my family the flexibility they needed.
• I started my own business so I could control when and how I worked.

For most of my 20s, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what my career would look like.

I graduated from college with a political science degree, lots of ambition, and very sincere plans to "change the world." Instead, I ended up working in a small office where I spent a lot less time changing the world and a lot more time looking at Excel.

I liked working, but I never needed my career to be the biggest thing in my life. That became even clearer after I had my first son.

I switched to part-time work

I wanted to keep working and keep that part of my identity, but I also wanted more time at home with him, so I went part-time. My husband has a career he genuinely loves, and as we grew our family, it made sense for me to have a more flexible schedule.

For a while, part-time work suited our family. I was contributing financially while still having the time with my kids that I wanted. I thought I had found a setup that could grow with our family.

Then I got pregnant with our third son. At my 20-week ultrasound, we learned he had clubfoot. It was treatable, but his first year would involve regular orthopedic appointments, casting, and bracing. With two other kids already in preschool, I knew our calendar was about to get more complicated. I was up for the challenge.

What I didn't know was that the clubfoot diagnosis would become one of the easier things we managed that year.

Managing my baby's medical care became an unpaid full-time job

When my youngest son was 4 months old, I took him to the pediatrician for what I thought was yet another sick visit. His breathing worried her enough that she sent us straight to the emergency room. I drove him there myself, and as we walked through the doors, he stopped breathing. The hospital called a code blue.

He was admitted to the PICU and placed on high-flow oxygen. That hospital stay was followed by two more admissions and a new specialist at every turn. We added pulmonology and immunology to the orthopedics appointments already on our calendar. Managing his medical care quickly became an unpaid full-time job.

At the same time, my oldest son was having medical issues we couldn't explain. He was breaking out in hives, getting unexplained fevers, and complaining that his joints hurt. Soon, we were adding his specialists to the calendar too. I was firmly in over my head.

I hated asking for permission to take time off

Even working part-time wasn't flexible enough. I was spending more time in waiting rooms than at my desk, constantly asking for permission to leave early or switch my office days.

I hated those conversations. I knew my kids needed me, but I also knew I couldn't be the kind of employee my small office needed anymore. No matter where I was, it felt like I was letting someone down.

I spent a lot of time thinking about how I could get the flexibility I needed, without losing myself to motherhood with medically complex children. I started noticing women around me were rethinking traditional work settings as well. One of my friends started a virtual assistant business after being laid off. Another left teaching and built a craft kit business that gave her more flexibility with her kids.

When I later read in Forbes that 455,000 women had left the workforce last year, with nearly half citing caregiving responsibilities, I wasn't exactly shocked. Interested, but not shocked. The article went on to say that "we are not losing women because they lack ambition. Rather, we are losing them because the workplace was designed for a world that no longer exists."

This was a problem so many parents, including me, were encountering. Work happens alongside life's responsibilities, not in spite of them.

Leaving the workforce and becoming a one-income household wasn't an option for my family, especially with the medical bills piling up. So I did what was starting to come pretty naturally in this season of life. I pivoted.

I started my own company to have the flexibility I needed

I took a remote job as a virtual assistant because working from home seemed like it would solve at least some of the problems, and it did. But I was still working for someone else, which meant appointments, sick kids, and last-minute changes still required the same conversation I was used to having at my office job. I was home more, but I still didn't have control over my time.

Eventually, I started wondering why I needed an agency in the middle at all. I took all that ambition I had stored up and started my own company. I knew how to help small businesses with operations, marketing, and all the random things that keep a business running. Now, I could decide when and how I did that work.

Starting a business in the middle of a medical crisis is not for the faint of heart. I built a client list from hospital waiting rooms, after bedtime, and early in the morning, before anyone else was awake. There wasn't exactly a five-year business plan. Most days, I figured out what needed to happen next and did it.

Somewhere in all of that, the thing I started because I needed work that could fit around our life became a career I really enjoyed and cared about.

It isn't a traditional career, and I still haven't figured out the secret to balancing medical motherhood with running a business. I take specialist calls in the middle of meetings and work after bedtime when an appointment eats up half my day. There are weeks when my carefully planned schedule is useless by Tuesday morning. Even with the flexibility I have now, I couldn't make it work on my own. My husband picks up the slack at home when I need to be the medical point person, and our small village steps in when we inevitably need another set of hands.

But now I have the autonomy to adjust when that happens, whether that means moving a meeting, working later, or shutting my laptop and taking my kid where he needs to go.

I spent my 20s thinking ambition would shape my career. Motherhood taught me that knowing when and how to pivot might be the more valuable skill.