“Does Anyone Else Feel Guilty Leaving the Kids to Go to Work?”: Navigating Parenthood as a Physician
It’s 6:00 AM and the house is quiet. You tiptoe past your toddler’s room, coffee in hand, hoping the floorboards don’t creak. You’ve got back-to-back cases starting at 7:00 AM, a chart backlog from yesterday, and your partner’s also working a call shift tonight. Your 4-year-old cried when you left yesterday and probably will again today. The mom (or dad) guilt swells—and doesn’t let go.
If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone. Many physicians silently grapple with the guilt that comes from caring for everyone else’s families while feeling like they’re missing out on their own. Between 28-hour shifts, last-minute schedule changes, and the weight of a profession that demands your whole self, many physician parents ask a version of the same question:
Does anyone else feel like they’re failing at home just by showing up at work?
This post is for you—the cardiologists charting notes between birthday parties, the residents missing preschool pickups, the surgeons waving goodbye as your toddler screams for one more story. We're diving into the real emotions behind that guilt, the unique challenges of parenting as a physician, and gentle ways to reframe your thinking so you can breathe a little easier.
Why the Guilt Hits So Hard
There’s something uniquely conflicting about being a caregiver by profession while feeling like you’re falling short as a caregiver at home. The very traits that make physicians good at their jobs—self-sacrifice, drive, perfectionism—often make them vulnerable to guilt when it comes to parenting.
Several themes emerge again and again in forums and real-life conversations:
Unpredictable schedules: You want to plan a zoo day, but then you're held over for a delivery. You promise to be at the school play, but your pager goes off.
Missing milestones: First steps happen during rounds. Teacher conferences get rescheduled or missed. Your partner sends a video of the baby babbling "mama," and it makes you cry because you weren’t there.
Emotional whiplash: One minute you're holding someone’s hand as they receive devastating news; the next you're expected to read a bedtime story with enthusiasm.
Double standards: Many physician parents (especially women) feel judged—either for working too much, or for not working enough. The pressure to be “all in” at home and at work feels like a setup.
You might intellectually know that you’re doing your best. But emotionally? It feels like you’re constantly falling short somewhere.
What the Forums Are Saying
In one candid post, a physician mom described sitting in her car after a 24-hour shift, crying because her toddler asked why she’s “always gone.” Another dad shared how he stopped checking his phone when he’s home, because every alert felt like a reminder of what he couldn’t control—at work and at home.
Threads like these (on Reddit’s r/medicine, r/parenting, and r/Residency) echo a painful truth: guilt isn’t just present—it’s pervasive.
One family medicine doc put it this way: “I went into medicine to help people. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss my own kid’s life doing it.”
These aren't isolated sentiments. In fact, they reflect a widespread emotional current running beneath the surface of medical parenthood.
The Myth of Balance—And What to Strive for Instead
Physician parents often chase “balance,” imagining a future where work and home feel equally tended to. But the truth is, balance often doesn’t exist—especially in medicine. What does exist, though, is integration.
Instead of imagining a 50/50 split every day, consider:
What rhythms work for your family? Maybe weekends are sacred, or mornings are your one-on-one time.
What support systems can you rely on? It might be a partner, a nanny, or even a neighbor who can pinch-hit when both parents are tied up.
What moments matter most to your kids? Spoiler: It’s not quantity. It’s presence. Even 15 minutes of undivided attention can be enough to refill their cup.
Let’s Talk About Nannies, Partners, and Support Without Shame
This isn’t a subtle sales pitch—but it is an honest conversation about help. Physician families often feel like asking for help equals failing. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Some real takeaways from parents who’ve found peace:
“Hiring a nanny saved our marriage. It took the pressure off both of us to juggle everything.”
“We stopped trying to trade call shifts just so one of us could be home—we realized having consistent care was better for everyone.”
“Outsourcing laundry and meal prep felt excessive at first. But it let us spend actual time with our kids, not just collapse after work.”
Help doesn’t mean you’re not doing your job as a parent. It means you’re acknowledging your bandwidth. And showing your kids what it looks like to ask for support is actually a beautiful life lesson.
Guilt vs. Grief: Know the Difference
Sometimes what we label as “guilt” is actually grief.
You’re not a bad parent for working nights or missing bedtime. But you are a human being grieving the parts of parenting you have to miss. That’s okay.
One ER physician shared that she stopped using the word “guilt” and started saying she felt “sad” instead. “Guilt felt like I was doing something wrong,” she wrote. “But I wasn’t. I was just heartbroken to miss moments. That helped.”
Name it for what it is. You’re grieving. And that’s valid.
Reframing the Narrative for Your Kids
Many physicians worry about what their absence teaches their children. But here’s what else you’re teaching:
Compassion. Grit. Responsibility.
The value of showing up for others, even when it’s hard.
That it’s okay to not be everywhere all the time.
That love isn’t measured by hours—it’s measured by intention.
One pediatrician shared how her daughter now tells people, “My mommy helps sick kids feel better.” That’s pride—not resentment.
And in a particularly touching story, an anesthesiologist said her toddler mimics her badge and stethoscope during playtime. “She says she’s going to work like mama,” she wrote. “That makes the hard days a little softer.”
Your Kids Don’t Need Perfection—They Need You
Not the perfect version of you. Not the one with all the energy, or the Pinterest lunches, or the always-on patience.
They need you—the one who hugs them tight after a long shift. The one who tucks them in with tired eyes but a full heart. The one who says, “I missed you,” even if you only have five minutes to say it.
In those short moments, you’re building security. Trust. Connection.
And that matters more than being there for every single milestone.
How to Gently Ease the Guilt (When You Can’t Change the Schedule)
If you’re deep in the guilt spiral, here are a few physician-tested strategies that help:
Voice your love consistently: Leave notes, send short videos, create rituals like a special handshake or song.
Shift your self-talk: Instead of saying “I’m failing,” try “I’m showing up the best I can.”
Do ‘mini moments’ that matter: One parent described a 5-minute bedtime “roses and thorns” talk that became her child’s favorite part of the day.
Find community: Talk to other physician parents. Realizing you're not alone can be an antidote to guilt.
Consider therapy or coaching: Especially for dual-physician families, having space to process without judgment can be a lifeline.
To the Physician Parent Crying in the Call Room
If you're reading this on your break, wondering if it’s all worth it, wondering if your kids will remember the late arrivals more than the love behind them—please know this:
They will remember the warmth of your arms when you were home. They’ll remember that even when you were tired, you still tried. They’ll know that your work saved lives and that your love saved theirs.
No amount of guilt will make you a better parent.
But giving yourself grace? That might.
Final Thoughts: You’re Not Alone—And You’re Doing Better Than You Think
The truth is, there’s no “right” way to be a physician parent. There’s only the way that works for your family. And while that way might include missing some bedtimes or being late to the bake sale, it also includes moments your kids will carry with them forever.
It includes the way you model strength and compassion. The way you show up after a double shift, still soft enough to kiss a scraped knee. The way you keep choosing both your work and your children—even when it’s hard.
So yes, physician parent. It’s normal to feel guilty. It’s human. But that guilt doesn’t define you.
Your love does.
Resources and Communities That Informed This Post:
We drew inspiration and insight from open conversations on:
r/medicine
r/Parenting
r/Residency
Physician parent blogs including Mothers in Medicine, KevinMD, and Medscape’s parenting threads
We’ve synthesized themes across these sources while respecting anonymity and avoiding direct quotes, presenting them instead as collective insights from the wider community of physician parents.
Want to keep this conversation going?
Our agency works with physician families across the U.S. to find trusted, long-term childcare solutions—without the guilt, chaos, or uncertainty. Whether you’re exploring your options or just want to feel less alone, we’re here.
Because you deserve support just as much as the families you care for.
