When a Mother becomes a Caregiver

I did not sign up for this…Caregiving. 

The gtube feeds, pushing needles weekly into his stomach just to pump medication that should stop the infections, the suppression medication, the antibiotics, the steroids, the constant weekly appointments, the coordination of care and 13 specialists.

I did not expect the doctors to argue over who had the bigger problem. Only to call and say, “these are your options.” “If he has an episode, I want you to know what will happen?” “Which problem do you think needs to take priority?” 

The pain. The pressure. It pulsates through your veins and wedges its way into every part of your being making it impossible to escape.

It’s in the heaviness that creeps into your eyelids, the lump that becomes apparent every time you swallow, the pressure that sits in your chest or the knot that resides in your stomach.

No mother should have to live this life. But life doesn’t work that way. 

There is a huge sense of guilt writing and feeling these words. How can I feel such pain around the one person who bought me a new lease on life?

Maybe because it’s not a this or that situation. My life is magical because I am his mother, and my life holds enormous pain because I am his caregiver. 

It’s ok to be blessed beyond measure and it's ok to break down because it is all too much. This journey does not come with a guide.

Take a breath. Find your community. Learn to ask for help. We (mother-caregivers) may not have picked this but we will get through this.