I still remember the day when little Lily was diagnosed with autism like it was yesterday.

It was a warm afternoon in early spring, and Jake and I were sitting in a small, cheerful room at the specialist’s office. Outside, birds chirped, and sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, but inside I felt like the world had fallen quiet. The doctor was kind and reassuring, explaining what Lily’s condition meant and how we could help her thrive. She was only three at the time, bright-eyed and curious, but struggling to connect with her surroundings in ways that other children did effortlessly.

We left the office holding hands, each of us deep in thought. Up until that point, I had a career I was passionate about—I was a marketing manager with a rising trajectory. My firm respected my work, and I enjoyed the challenges of campaigns, deadlines, and creative brainstorming sessions. Jake worked as a data analyst at a tech company, and while his job was stable and paid well, it was my income that often gave us the financial freedom to dream big about the future.

Over a quiet dinner that evening, we discussed what the diagnosis would mean. Lily’s doctor emphasized early intervention, specialized attention, and potentially finding a caregiver with experience in autism. With my schedule, traveling to clients and leading meetings that stretched past dinner, it would be tough to provide Lily with the consistent, patient support she needed.

Jake’s job allowed him to work from home a few days a week, but it was sporadic and unpredictable. After all, he was often tethered to urgent demands from his department and couldn’t promise to be fully present for Lily during working hours.

That’s when we decided, together, that I would step back from my career. It wasn’t a decision we took lightly. I remember how my heart clenched when I wrote my letter of resignation. I had worked so hard to get where I was, and walking away was terrifying.

But this was Lily, our daughter who needed more than just a hired nanny or part-time tutor—she needed one of us. Someone who truly understood her, someone who could give her the kind of day-in, day-out nurturing that no stranger could replicate. We agreed it should be me. Jake and I talked it through for hours, making a list of pros and cons. In the end, I volunteered. I loved Lily more than anything, and I knew I could learn what I needed to support her effectively.

The first few months at home full-time were hard. I’d become so used to professional challenges that waking up without a packed schedule or pressing deadlines felt strange. At first, I missed dressing up in my business attire and heading into the city for presentations. I missed coffee breaks with my colleagues and the sense of camaraderie that came with working in a team.