
“I’ve been working in advertising agencies for six years now. I didn’t plan to go this way—it’s just where the career took me.”
Things began to unravel when Tara was laid off unexpectedly while planning her wedding and buying a home.
“They even called me in the airport on my day off to do it.”
She needed a new job quickly—severance wasn’t going to last. She landed at a new agency that seemed like a great fit at first: fully remote, value-aligned, and understanding of parenting and farm life. Even the billable hours model didn’t feel too constraining at the start.
“I got pregnant six months into the job and didn’t worry much.”
But just a month later, her agency announced it was being acquired. Everything changed.
"This on top of me trying to go through my own life transition."
The acquiring company promised things would remain the same, but the tone was immediately more corporate. Her supportive agency leadership began retiring, and the culture shifted.
One silver lining? A stronger parental leave policy. She took 10 weeks off (though she could’ve taken more, it would have meant a pay cut) and returned to a company that felt completely different.
Like many parents, Tara and her husband initially thought they could make work-from-home parenting function without childcare.
“We were foolish enough to think we wouldn’t need childcare.”
Then her husband’s job demanded he return to the office. He pivoted and found a new, higher-paying role—one he loves. It allowed Tara the option to step back at work slightly. But there was a catch.
“He has to travel a lot. It was the right move, but it left me solo parenting a ton.”
She reduced to 30 hours per week, hoping for more balance. But instead of the workload decreasing, it ballooned.
“I was switched to a different manager who isn’t a parent—she’s very sweet, but it was almost like a demotion because we used to be the same level.”
Tara found herself the only parent on her immediate team, working with younger, child-free colleagues who didn’t understand her reality. She scrambled to find childcare.
“I was able to find an in-home nanny to work with us— but she ended up ghosting us a few weeks in.”
After several more failures - including a nanny who didn’t show up on day one and the logistical stress of coordinating her mother-in-law’s limited help—Tara finally found a fit.
“We finally found a great fit—she can only take two days a week though.”
“We admitted defeat and got on a daycare waitlist. We are number 19 on the list.”
Childcare options were further narrowed when several local centers shut down due to child abuse reports. Their one good nanny felt irreplaceable.
“I’m considering a YMCA membership just for the few hours of care.”
Then COVID hit the entire family.
“We all got sick for over a week—and while I was solo parenting. My MIL was traveling, so I couldn’t even call on her for backup.”
They recovered just in time for a long-planned vacation, but work expectations loomed large.
“I have unlimited time off in my job, but have to hit client targets. And with all that happened in that month, I ended up working less than half the month.”
Tara was anxious. She asked repeatedly if her reduced hours were okay. She was reassured—until the timesheet report landed.
“I got my hand majorly slapped. I cried.”
Still, she pushed forward. But inside, something was shifting.
“I’ve been majorly struggling to keep up and take care of my family—and just find myself.”
She and her husband plan to have more children. But she knows something has to change.
“So right now, I’m looking for the next role. Somewhere that doesn’t have a timesheet. Somewhere that feels more fulfilling.”
Though they could manage a slightly lower salary, they still need her steady paycheck. She’s considered freelancing but doesn’t feel safe making the leap without clients locked in.
“I have a lead on one, and some good job interviews—but still unsure if they’ll pan out. Or if they’ll even be as good of a fit for this stage of life as I need.”
Her current boss doesn’t know she’s looking.
“I keep being told I’m valued—but I feel really unsupported.”
She doesn’t want to sacrifice her family for her career. But pivoting feels daunting. “I just don’t have the time and energy. I feel stuck.”
“Mom rage. Not realizing how much of the home and baby would fall on me. Navigating my husband’s new job. Trying to keep up with my timesheet. Failing to find good childcare. Family illness. Just losing myself in the midst of it all.”
“I wish I would have planned a different career path that would set me up to take a step back at this stage.”
She also wishes she’d better prepared herself mentally for the post-leave return.
“Even if things were better, I think it’s hard to come back to a place when you’ve gone through so much change.”
And like so many other parents, she regrets not using her pre-kid free time differently.
“I wish I would’ve used my free time better pre-kids to set up side gigs that could grow.”
“I wish I had someone to walk me through this change as a working mom. Like a coach.”
“Expect the unexpected. Defend what matters to you most (your family) intensely.”
She also offers tactical advice for surviving the juggle:
“Keep your name and voice popping up online so people know you exist when the right opportunity comes.”
And she’s not joking when she says…
“Get the ChatGPT subscription to help you carry the mental load.”
“I’m obviously still in the middle of this mess. At the end of the day, I think I really did the best I could. There is no way to fully prepare for such immense change.”
This story was submitted anonymously—so appreciated. For the sake of sharing her story with others who might be in the thick of it too, we’ve given her the name Tara
Let this be a reminder: if you feel stuck or unsupported, you are absolutely not alone. There’s a whole village of us trying to figure it out right alongside you. Our STUCK page is also here to help! bothand.com/stuck