For six years, I was a stay-at-home dad, responsible for raising our three children and providing care for my frail but feisty mother-in-law, who suffered from COPD until she passed away. Between the endless relay from the washing machine to the washing line, my days were filled with countless tasks that kept the wheels turning. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was essential.
Invisible work
Care work, particularly in the home, is invisible to much of society. It’s the labour that keeps families functioning, yet it’s often treated as though it doesn’t matter. When my partner and I swapped roles and she went back to work, she faced her own battle of returning to her career after six years as a stay-at-home parent.
Both of us, like so many others, struggled to regain confidence. We felt our skills had rusted, that we’d lost relevance. Yet the work we were doing by caregiving and supporting is some of the most valuable work in society.
In Australia, unpaid carers contributed an estimated $77.9 billion in economic value for the year 2020, according to the Department of the Prime Minister and Cabinet. That’s nearly equivalent to half of the national healthcare budget. And yet, this staggering financial figure only captures part of the value of caregiving.
The real value is not just economic; it’s the unmeasurable emotional and personal impact on those receiving care. For people like my mother-in-law, who depended on my support, the sense of being protected, cared for, and not facing the challenges alone was invaluable.
When we think about ‘work’, we tend to focus on paid labour, careers that generate income, boost productivity, and have clear economic value. But caregiving, whether for children, elderly parents, or sick relatives, is often unpaid and goes unrecognised. Yet without it, families and communities would collapse under the weight of unmet needs.
Undervalued
I’ve met plenty of people in the same position I was, caring for children, ageing parents, or sick spouses, and they often feel invisible or undervalued in the outside world. But the truth is, this care is essential.
It allows families to function and sustains the health and wellbeing of those who need it. Often, it’s the only thing standing between a loved one and the overwhelming challenges of a healthcare system stretched to its limits.
We don’t talk about this enough. We don’t always value the people who do this work, and worse, we don’t acknowledge the mental and physical toll it takes on them. Carers routinely face emotional and physical exhaustion, balancing medical appointments, making critical decisions, and managing the day-to-day needs of those in their care.
Despite the vital nature of this work, it is often overlooked and undervalued. Yet the provision of care is every bit as important as any job I’ve ever had.
Taken for granted
The reality is that carers are often taken for granted, and this needs to change. If you know someone who is caring for a loved one whether it’s a stay-at-home parent, a family member caring for an elderly relative, or anyone supporting someone who can’t fully support themselves remind them how important they are.
Give them a hug, offer a helping hand, acknowledge the vital work they’re doing and ask them how they are. They’ll probably demur, brush it off and tell you everything is fine. But do it again on another day.
The quiet heroes
Without these quiet heroes, the fabric of our families and communities would unravel. Care isn’t just valuable, it’s foundational. It’s long overdue that we recognise it for what it is and start valuing the people who do it, both in economic terms and in the unmeasurable comfort they bring to those who need them most.
As for me and my family? I have now been able to resume my career and, in fact, it is better than ever.
I am lucky to have a partner who supported me and understood the challenges that careers face regardless of gender, creed or anything else in relation to returning to work after an extended period of being outside the workforce. She encouraged me to push through my diminished confidence and lack of self-belief so that I could take the next steps forward. Not everyone is so lucky.
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