Caregiver Fatigue
I bumped into a parent of a newborn in a store the other day and they mentioned how tired they were because their baby’s days and nights were switched. At about a week old, that’s not unexpected and we can smile through it knowing these days (and nights) will quickly pass. It is just temporary. But when that becomes life day in, day out, night in, night out; it really takes a toll on us.
Written by Sarah McGuire
It’s real. It’s literal. It’s pervasive. It’s all consuming. When we haven’t slept a full night, half a night, or maybe not even a full hour at a time in days, weeks, months, maybe even years we get kind of tired, right? Sleep deprivation is serious business.
Yet, who else could possibly believe this is often life for the parent of a child with special needs.
I bumped into a parent of a newborn in a store the other day and they mentioned how tired they were because their baby’s days and nights were switched. At about a week old, that’s not unexpected and we can smile through it knowing these days (and nights) will quickly pass. It is just temporary. But when that becomes life day in, day out, night in, night out; it really takes a toll on us.
I know when my child’s needs were significant, and I rarely slept for a full hour at a stretch for 18 months. I was exhausted. I was discouraged. I felt so alone. We were relatively new to town and I had no support system outside my husband who was working a regular schedule. I was at my breaking point. Did I mention, I was exhausted? Like really, really exhausted.
I was still going to church many Sundays. The pastor became aware of my exhaustion one Sunday and in the following weeks he would ask me how I was doing. Over the course of those weeks, my answer didn’t change. I was still tired. Yet, as the weeks rolled by and my answer, “I’m tired” stayed the same, the look I got from him changed from caring to condemning.
A few years later, my husband and I were meeting with another pastor regarding Hope Anew and coming alongside parents of kids with disability and special needs and he commented, “I wonder what goes through the mind of a parent when they wake up in the morning knowing what’s ahead for that day.” I replied, “You slept?” He smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of his assumption and the gap of understanding even as he was trying to the best of his ability to understand.
As caregivers, it’s easy to feel forgotten, unseen, not understood because so few people have lived this life and our circumstances. They can’t understand the load we are under and the challenges we are battling through every. single. day and night. We often focus on just making it through the next hour or minute and can’t think beyond that.
I know someone who does care. Who does see. Who does understand. We are not forgotten or alone. These words got me through many a screaming (my baby), crying (both of us), rocking chair night, “He tends his flock like a shepherd: “He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.” – Isaiah 40:11. I was a mother with my “young” and it promises that He will gently lead me. That He gathers me in His arms just as I was holding and rocking my little one in my arms. And He promises that to you too.
Written by Sarah McGuire
SARAH MCGUIRE IS THE MOM OF TWO BOYS AND CO-FOUNDER OF HOPE ANEW, A NONPROFIT THAT GUIDES PARENTS TO CHRIST-CENTERED HOPE AND HEALING. YOU CAN FOLLOW HOPE ANEW ON FACEBOOK HERE.
To The Caregivers
She was three, he was seven and I was in crisis. I was overweight, overtired and overwhelmed. I felt so sick and old.
Written by BreAnn Tassone
She was three, he was seven and I was in crisis. I was overweight, overtired and overwhelmed. I felt so sick and old.
I felt all of this, but I so rarely reflected on my state of being that I almost didn’t notice that I felt this way at all. I was just not on my own mind in any way. I would read about “self care” and think it such an indulgent luxury. I would get so taken aback at the mention of it, as if I was making a choice not to care for myself. Of course I didn’t feel that was the case. I was allowing my hectic circumstance to be the fall guy for that. I was so deep into my role as caregiver that I couldn’t see how my body was struggling. My child was being tested for vitamin deficiencies and receiving appropriate supplements. Both of my children were eating pretty clean diets free from inflammatory foods, artificial ingredients and they were eating organic choices as much as possible. I was not. I was treating my exhaustion with food, and making all of the wrong choices. I was convincing myself that I deserved the joy that overindulging in food brought. I earned it. Eating was something I looked forward to.
There was no time for a spa day, or even to enjoy reading a novel. There was time to get through the day, most of the night, and then crash into my bed, but not before “medicating” with some yummy meal or treat eaten way too late and consisting of absolutely terrible choices. With zero help in the childcare department, jogs or trips to the gym were also out of the question. So, this is where I was.
Then the pandemic hit our world and our world hit the pause button. Many people began to overindulge and neglect physical wellness in an effort to deal with all of the emotions living through the fear a pandemic brought on. I suddenly wasn’t alone in this struggle. So many people started “medicating” with food as I had been. Comfort food and sourdough bread recipes were all over social media, and many people soon felt ready to reign it in. This was my window of opportunity. Something was awake in me, finally. I did a deep dive into wellness with others who had gained extra weight during the pandemic.
God led me to a plan that really helped give my body the respect it deserved.
Encouraged by a family member, I dove in. I still couldn’t get to a gym, and I still was running wild until far later in the evening than typical, but when I ate I was eating vegetables and meat. I was choosing fruit and eliminating all of the things my child had eliminated years before. I cut out those same artificial ingredients and inflammatory foods. I began taking the supplements my body needed and I started pulling myself out of the fog. I started loving on myself as I had always done for my children.
Quickly life became easier. I found I could handle the hectic moments with more grace for myself and my family. I realized that the way I love and care for my children, is the way God loves me. I was not caring for my God-given body as I should have been. It is such a gift to be given a body in the first place. Isn’t it?
So many lightbulbs started turning on for me. As much as, my role as caregiver to my children requires, as does my role as caregiver to myself. It’s easy when you’re navigating special needs or medical fragility within your home to completely forget about yourself. It’s not at all a case of that horrible phrase “letting yourself go”. In my experience, it was a case of just completely forgetting my health needs altogether in the flurry of life. We can’t do that. We can’t get lost in the”figuring it out” and the “making our way through”. We need to try to honor ourselves and our bodies and our children will be the beneficiaries. First off, we’ll hopefully improve our chances of living longer. Next, when we, as caregivers, feel well and healthy, have energy and aren’t flooding our system with terrible food additives and sugary junk we can care better for those we love. Finally, I think when you’re taking exceptional care of what God has trusted you with, your heart feels lighter and you can begin to fulfill the role you have before you.
Our homelife has calmed significantly in the last year. There are many reasons for that. We’ve found appropriate treatment and a proper diagnosis for our child, we’ve settled more comfortably into this role of caregiver, and we have now turned our eyes toward caring for ourselves in the same way we feverishly care for our children.
Everyone is the caregiver to something or someone. It may be a child with special needs, it may be a beautiful golden retriever, and it may be a dear friend. May it always be that we are caregivers to ourselves first and foremost. If you have forgotten yourself for a bit, as I did, it is my hope that reading this will serve as a reminder of what a gift our bodies are and of how deserving you are to feel outstanding in yours.
Written by BreAnn Tassone
