For many parents, it’s natural to imagine that their children will live out their teenage years carefree, focused on school dances, football games, and daydreaming about the future. But life rarely unfolds in perfect symmetry. Sometimes, the child becomes the caretaker far earlier than anyone expected.

This was the case for me, it was 2008 and I was in Mr. Arlington’s English honors class when I got called down to the main office. Very unexpectedly, my sister and brother-in-law were there to let me know that that my mom and grandparents were in a car accident, and I needed to pack my things for the rest of the week.

My mom’s injuries were the most extreme with a head laceration that needed staples, but overall, we were relieved that it wasn’t worse...until it was. Two days later, she unexpectedly suffered a stroke, resulting in an induced coma that lasted what felt like months, but was only about three weeks.

When she finally woke up, it was like looking at a stranger. My vibrant, loving mother was in a vegetative state, and she would slowly have to relearn how to breathe on her own, eat without the need of a feeding tube, talk, and remember our names. The stroke resulted in left hemiplegia, partial paralysis of the left side of her body. My mom was basically paralyzed, and I felt paralyzed too.

And just like that, at 15 years old, I stepped into the lifelong role of caregiver to my mom. At 32 now, being a caregiver has been my whole identity.

I’m the baby of my family with my siblings being 19, 18, and 11 years older than me. My mom was able to be at their weddings, support my sister in the hospital room while she gave birth, help raise some of my nieces and nephews, and be that shoulder for them to lean on through those formative years.

Aside from the physical duties that come along with this role, I’ve had to take on the emotional parental role as well. I have to break the news to my mom when a family member passes, most memorably when my brother passed away from pancreatic cancer. She leans on my shoulder now and during those devastating times, it’s hard not to feel the heaviness of how unfair it all is.

The stroke robbed me of a “normal” adolescence. I was robbed of the ‘superhero mom’ my siblings always refer to. It’s taken years of therapy and work for me to figure out who I truly am outside of my caregiver role. It’s my default and because of that, learning to set boundaries for my own growth has been a challenge. It’s hard to explain just how mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially demanding it is to be a caregiver every single day.

When I’m not there, I schedule someone to come in. If I go on vacation, I pay for extra hours. If I go on a work trip, I pay for extra hours. If I go on a date, I pay for extra hours. I have to budget for extra hours or days of “freedom.” I’m grateful we can make it work, but it’s not easy and I know many caregivers find themselves having to give up their jobs and devote themselves 24/7.

Balancing a career with caregiving has been a tightrope walk. I've taken work calls from hospital rooms sitting next to my mom over the years during various incidents such as seizures, falls, or her latest colon cancer diagnosis and functioned on just two or three hours of sleep, going back into the office the next day.

Despite the challenges, caregiving has also revealed moments of triumph and strengths I never knew I had. My mom had a fall in the shower, and I was able to catch and maneuver her down slowly and break what could’ve been a hard fall. I felt like a superwoman that day, lifting her back up on my own with no injuries to either of us.

From feeding her to changing her TENA underwear due to incontinence, I’ve done it all. Reflecting on everything we’ve managed as caregivers is so important as it reminds us of how resilient and capable we are to keep pushing forward.

But the biggest challenge is still the lack of support and recognition. I wish more people recognized, beyond just surface level, how mentally, emotionally, physically, and financially demanding it is to be a caregiver every single day. Often the beginning of a life change such as this is filled with support from friends and family, we had so much support when my mom first suffered the stroke. But, over time, everyone continues on with their life, and the check-ins and visits lessen.

For me, even on my “days off” there are things I have to do or think about: scheduling appointments, mailing checks, picking up medications, etc. Being a caregiver requires the same level of care and patience as it does to be a parent, except we don’t plan or do anything to be in this role. It falls on your lap and we either push forward and “gracefully” weave it into our life or become bitter and resentful.

Sometimes those feelings creep up even for the ones that look like they have it all together. Some of us are in this role temporarily while some of us are “lifers.” Either way, I wish more people would ask if I needed anything and really mean it.

What I’ve learned through my position is just how far a little help can go. Something as small as bringing over a meal, spending quality time with my mom, or taking my mom into consideration when planning events would make a world of a difference. I bring up that example because for something as simple as attending a baby shower requires a lot of planning on my end.

Is the location wheelchair accessible? If not, can I bring a portable ramp or do I need to depend on others? How long is the ride? Can a home care aid tag along so I can enjoy the party as well? If you can be that person that can offer a helping hand, don’t be afraid to ask questions. Check in on us. Sometimes all we need is some distraction or a listening ear.

Lastly, as Tia Walker said, “To care for those who once cared for us is one of the highest honors.” No matter how tough the journey gets, love makes every sacrifice worth it. My mom means everything to me, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. If I had to walk this path again, I’d do it without hesitation.

If you’ve ever faced the unthinkable possibility of your child becoming your caregiver, I hope my story offers you some comfort and a sense of connection. And to those who have walked the caregiving path, whether for a parent, partner, or friend, know that you are seen, and you are not alone. If you know someone carrying that weight, offer your support and let it come from the heart.

Story by https://shop.tena.us/