3 AM Mom Guilt

Another night shift starts in an hour. I’m sitting in our quiet kitchen with my coffee, everyone else asleep, trying to shake this feeling that never really goes away.

3 AM Mom Guilt

I became a nurse because I love kids. I chose pediatrics specifically because there’s something magical about helping tiny humans feel better. But here’s the thing they don’t tell you in nursing school: when you work nights to care for other people’s children, you miss huge chunks of your own kid’s life.

Packing lunch at 3 AM

Sophie will wake up in a few hours and I’ll be gone. Marcus will get her breakfast, probably let her watch cartoons while he makes coffee, and I’ll be checking on patients who need me. When I get home at 8 AM, she’ll want to play and I’ll be dead on my feet. We’ll have maybe an hour together before I crash for six hours, and then she’ll be napping when I wake up. Rinse and repeat.

Leaving a note for when they wake up

I love what I do. I’m good at what I do. But sometimes, in these quiet pre-shift moments, the guilt sits heavy in my chest. I chose this career because I wanted to help kids. The irony is almost too much some days.

Off to take care of everyone else’s babies