The Titles That Truly Matter

If you had asked Laura ten years ago which title mattered most to her in life, she probably would have answered: a university degree, a master’s degree, a management position in a multinational company, leading people and building a successful career.

That was my goal.

Yes, I had always wanted to become a mom. But it never crossed my mind that I might one day have to choose between family and career. I was convinced I could have both: continue growing professionally while also having a family and being there for them.

By the time I found out I was going to become a mother, I already had a university degree and a master’s degree, had worked abroad and spoke three languages.

Then something happened that I still struggle to explain to this day. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside me. My ambition to lead a multinational company and keep climbing the corporate ladder no longer occupied the same place in my life.

“Disappeared” sounds too dramatic. But I can’t think of a better word. The moment I knew a new life was growing inside me, suddenly nothing seemed more important than that little life. I wanted to be home. I wanted to take care of my child. I simply wanted to be there.

And thanks to my husband, I was able to make that dream a reality.

Today, if you ask the 33 year old Laura which title means the most to her, I have only one answer: being the mom of these three wonderful, funny little boys.

And the remarkable thing is that I have never looked back thinking about everything I didn’t achieve or how much my plans changed. It never felt like a loss. It simply felt like the natural course of life. It happened little by little, almost without me noticing, and I have enjoyed every stage of it.

Lately, however, I have found myself thinking about something.

Maybe life had to lead me down that long and winding road to bring me exactly where I am today. Because today I am a caregiver. And yes, sometimes I think that studying nursing or medicine might have been more useful for the life I live now.

A degree in Business Administration? What for? A master’s degree in Human Resources? Speaking three languages?

And then I begin connecting the dots.

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I am deeply grateful that I spent so many years learning and mastering another language. English led me to my husband. It gave me the opportunity to earn a master’s degree, build my career and live in different countries.

Many years later, however, it gave me something infinitely more important: the ability to communicate without language barriers with the doctors and healthcare systems that gave my son a second chance at life.

Human Resources?

Today, our lives depend on people. We depend on the team that supports us every single day. On Team Oliver, a team that has to work like a well coordinated machine, with different personalities, different responsibilities and one shared goal: my son’s well being.

Business Administration?

Well…

I think managing a household, a family of five, therapies, doctors, nurses, appointments, treatments, travel, medical equipment, expenses and everything that comes with our life today probably counts too.

I once imagined myself leading teams and speaking in front of hundreds of people about business and leadership. Then I left that dream behind to become a stay at home mom. And today, ironically, I find myself standing in front of people once again, sharing my story with anyone willing to listen.

Only now I am no longer talking about business.

I am talking about our story. About disability, rehabilitation, inclusion, medicine, fear, hope, family and love.

No, I do not like what happened to us. I would never have chosen this path. No one would choose this life.

But it is the life that still allows me to have my children with me. And I will never waste that opportunity.

Today, my university diploma is packed away in a box, in a basement, in another country.

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Today, different certificates hang on the walls of our home.

First aid certifications. Medical training certificates. Awards recognizing me as a speaker on panels and at conferences about my son’s disability.

And in the middle of it all, I keep talking and talking about our everyday life, which is already challenging enough on its own, while also trying to find everything we need to keep moving forward.

Resources of every kind. Finding the right people. Building meaningful connections. Learning. Asking questions. Solving problems. Covering the costs that come with this life. And raising three incredible boys to become kind, strong men.

And if, somewhere along this journey, we are able to help even one other person, then I think life has not treated me so badly after all.

I like to believe that, somehow, everything was preparing us for what has become our purpose today. That every skill and every tool we rely on now was placed in our hands long before we ever knew why we would need them.

I want to believe that life did not simply throw us into this destiny, place a terrible accident in our path, and then leave us there alone. I want to believe that, little by little, it was preparing us for this moment, so that when the time came, we would have the strength to fight.

Why did this happen to us?

I don’t know.

Why?

We discover the answer a little more every single day.

But there is one thing I know for certain.

The love that fills our family today would be enough to make every sacrifice along this journey worthwhile. And discovering the most human side of the world—the side we often don’t see until we truly need other people—has been one of the deepest experiences of my life.

There is no title for that. No university awards you a diploma for learning how to love like this, to care like this, to endure, to ask for help, to accept help, to discover the kindness of complete strangers, or to keep moving forward when every part of you is afraid.

But once you have lived through all of that, you realize that those lessons cost far more than earning a university degree. And they are probably worth far more than any professional achievement.

Today, my aspirations are different. There is only one title I still hope to earn.

I hope that one day my three sons will look at me—or remember me when they are grown—and be able to say:

“Wow. Our mom truly loved being our mom. She never stopped fighting to give us the very best.”

And if I earn that title one day, it will be the greatest achievement of my entire life.