The Birthday I Almost Missed: A Love Letter to Working Parents and Leaders Everywhere
The birthday girl behind the wheel — a reminder that sometimes, they don’t need us to be home; they just need us to show up.
“I was so busy choosing between being a good mom and a good leader that I almost forgot — I already am both.”
When I started at PrideVMC, I did what any new leader does — I went into “get it right” mode. I asked my predecessor/mentor/AMAZING human Dr. Mia Cary, “Okay, tell me what matters most. Beside the PrideVMC calendar of events, if I was picking one thing to invest time and energy into - what do I absolutely need to have on my calendar?” Without missing a beat, she said, “VMAE. They’re the place to be if you want to connect with leaders from other organizations, build relationships, and really understand the organizational landscape.” Perfect. I pulled up their website, my calendar, all proud of myself for being proactive and went to put their fall conference on there.
And then I saw it.
The conference starts October 16th. My daughter’s birthday. Her sixteenth birthday. You know that feeling when your stomach just drops? Yeah, that.
I immediately thought: Oh. Well, I can’t go. I have to be here. It’s her 16th birthday — that’s a big one.
Then almost instantly: Wait. I can’t miss this event. I need to show up. I’m brand new in this job — these relationships matter.
And just like that, I was deep in the spiral of parental guilt vs. career guilt — that special flavor of emotional whiplash that only working parents seem to know. My brain went straight to extremes. All or nothing. Go to the conference and be viewed as a “bad mom” by everyone. Plus disappoint my kid, who I love more than life itself. Stay home and be a “bad leader” who doesn’t want to make her career a priority.
Sound familiar?
We do this all the time — not just as parents, but as people who care deeply about the work we do. Especially in veterinary medicine. We draw these hard lines that say, “You can’t be both.” You can’t be firm or hold people accountable and kind. You can’t prioritize your team and hit your production goals. You can’t take a vacation to unplug and be dedicated and available to your team.
It’s this weird, self-imposed binary — as if balance automatically means failure on both sides.
So there I was, internally debating which identity I was going to disappoint more: mom or CEO. I sat in that place. I wallowed there. I went ahead and booked a room at the conference hotel block, just in case. But I didn’t register for the event. I talked to my kid about what she wanted to do the morning of her birthday per our traditions. But I didn’t actually make plans.
And then a few weeks ago, I realized something humbling and freeing — my daughter didn’t even care about the date. We were looking at calendars at the start of the month as part of our family meeting. I force myself to bring it up. I said “You guys are with me the week of your birthday. What are your plans?” After looking at the calendar, Reilly pointed out that she has classes on her birthday and gymnastics practice until 7:30p. She said she wanted to get her license the morning of her birthday before she went to school. She doesn’t have a car yet so we were thinking aloud on how we would share rides that day and make sure everyone got to where they needed to be.
After some thought, she shrugged and said, “Can we just go to dinner somewhere nice the night before? I have practice late on my actual birthday anyway and want to bring treats to the gym. I don’t want birthday dinner at 9pm”. In that moment, the light bulb went off. She doesn’t actually care about the date. She cares about the things that matter to her. Time together, getting her drivers license the second the DMV opens, gymnastics practice and time with her teammates. Oh and coffee, naturally. She is my kid after all.
Oh. So that’s what we’re doing.
Dinner the night before, when she’s actually available. Coffee at our favorite spot before she goes to get her driver’s license (because apparently, turning 16 is about freedom and caffeine, not cake).
And me? I’m now leaving Rei with my car for the weekend which she is THRILLED about, taking a bus to catch a red-eye to Montréal after that coffee, snoozing through the time zones, and landing in time to start day one of the VMAE conference — rested(ish), caffeinated, and full of gratitude that I didn’t miss either.
Here’s the thing I almost missed entirely: it didn’t have to be one or the other.
I just had to stop letting guilt make my decisions for me.
That “either/or” thinking shows up everywhere in leadership. We convince ourselves it has to be one way or the other — either we protect our people or we protect the bottom line. Either we’re available to every client, or we have boundaries. Either we hold people accountable, or we’re kind. As if compromise automatically means weakness. But what if it doesn’t? What if “both/and” is where the real leadership lives?
Because the truth is, the moments that make us proud — the ones where we actually grow — rarely fit neatly into one box. They live in the messy middle ground where we get creative, adapt, and make it work. I get to celebrate my daughter and show up for myself and my new job. You get to care deeply about your hospital and care about your own energy. We all get to stop pretending that success requires self-sacrifice. I was so busy choosing between being a good mom and a good leader that I almost forgot — I already am both. Even if I had to make a choice that didn’t fall perfectly in the middle, both my kid and my team would have given me some grace. Much more than I would tend to give myself.
So here’s my question for you: Where are you stuck in all-or-nothing thinking right now? And what might shift if you gave yourself permission to find the “both/and”? Because sometimes the answer isn’t either/or — it’s family dinner at 6, coffee at sunrise, and a red-eye to Montréal.
And honestly? That’s a kind of balance I can live with.
💗 Stephanie