My husband stepped up, so I could step out.
The single most important thing that has allowed me to care for my mom, myself, and my daughter in the way that I want to over the past year is my partnership.
On January 27th of this year, my mom went into septic shock. At the time, she was in Maryland caring for my 87-year-old great-aunt after she had surgery. We live in New Hampshire. The details of how this all happened are still largely unknown, but she went into complete organ failure. She was intubated, sedated, and in the ICU for two weeks. From there, she spent another four weeks in acute hospital care in Maryland, followed by a medical flight to a rehab center back in New Hampshire, where she spent the next six weeks slowly beginning to recover. As you can imagine, my life as I knew it came to a halt. Despite having a one-year-old daughter at the time, I was able to make choices rooted in how I wanted to support my mom, which meant rushing to her side as she fought to survive each step.
I was recently contacted by a friend whose parent just received a devastating medical diagnosis. She asked me for advice on how I’ve handled being part of the sandwich generation. I quickly crafted a response with several bullet points, including: be patient and kind with yourself; establish a direct relationship with doctors; and get really clear on everyone's roles, responsibilities, and expectations. All of these things are very important, and I would still recommend them, but I felt like I was missing something big. After I pressed send, I started to reflect deeply on what made the biggest impact on my ability to handle it all. If I’m being honest, I know that the single most important thing in my life that has allowed me to show up for my mom, myself, and my daughter through this unimaginable experience is my partnership with my husband.
My partnership is built on a foundation of trust, open communication, and fairness. For us, these three values equal love and commitment. For me personally, it’s the deepest love I’ve ever felt for anyone. From day one, there was a spark between us. We started off as friends, but even in those early platonic days, I felt a pull toward him. I could never get enough. He perplexed me. I had never met a man who could exude masculinity in a way that felt kind, compassionate, and gentle. We met at work, and his desk was filled with pictures of his nephew and family. Any free chance he got, he traveled back home to see them. He was obsessed with football, but equally obsessed with building authentic relationships and helping people. He has radical acceptance of himself and everyone he meets. This has a direct impact on the lack of judgment he shows toward himself and others.
I share all of this because this is his core. These are the character traits I knew I was getting when we began dating. We’ve been together for nearly ten years now. While together, we are amazing in so many ways, both of us are still products of our upbringing, privilege, societal norms, the patriarchy, etc. These factors influence how we define, design, and enact what it means to be partners.
Here’s where I think we’re unique (I promise I’m getting to how this connects to my mom's illness): we defined and designed what partnership means to us. We did not enter into a life together with assumptions or hopes of how it would unfold. We were the co-creators of our masterpiece. We chose the canvas, the style of paint, the colors, and the image together. As we build, we also realize that life is not just one genre of art. We will evolve with our creation as we take in new and exciting experiences. Described like this, it sounds floaty and “woo-woo,” but it’s not. In theory, it is poetic, but in reality, it is very practical, tactical, and consistent.
How it unfolded like this is likely a combination of many things: our deep and true love for each other, who we are as individuals, and our capacity to view partnership in this way. Our exposure to aging grandparents, access to information like Fair Play, and the impacts of the gendered division of unpaid labor also play a role. The age at which we started dating, or maybe other factors I’m not even aware of, could be contributing factors as well.
All I know is that our life is made up of countless hours of checking in with each other, listening, communicating (not always aligned with each other), and compromising (when it makes sense). When you have a partnership like this, when your world starts to crumble, it does not break.
When we got the call about my mom being rushed to the hospital by ambulance, we dropped everything and immediately came together to build a plan. We decided that I would get on the next flight to Maryland, assess the situation, and we’d regroup when we had more information. I packed my bag, drove to the airport, and didn’t think about anything but caring for my mom.
Part of building the masterpiece together means that both of us can do it all. There is not one thing in our home that either of us can’t do, and that includes every aspect of caring for our daughter, who, if you remember, was just over one when all of this happened. My partner is more than capable; in fact, he thrives when it comes to caring for her. He requires zero assistance or guidance from me. This was by design and also thanks to his three months of paid family medical leave provided by his employer. Knowing this gave me absolute confidence that I could go support my mom in whatever way I needed to, for however long I needed to. This is not common.
So many women I know could never leave all of that responsibility to their male partners. They would be lost. Their minds and bodies would be in two places. One part of them would be trying to support their mother, while the other part would be worried that their children, partner, and home weren’t being properly cared for. This was not my reality.
I ended up staying in Maryland for over a month. I traveled back home for three days in the middle, and my family flew out to stay for a few days. At first, I was embarrassed to admit it, but after processing it with my therapist, I am now proud to say that there were full days when I forgot I had a child. It was very hard for me to wrap my head around what this meant. My default reaction was: how could a good mother do that? Thankfully, I have an excellent therapist who was able to help me see that I was only able to do this because I knew she was being cared for in the best and most loving way. She had her dad. While I wish I could have been there with them, he was filling all of the gaps, and there wasn’t one minute while I was gone in which she didn’t feel loved. This allowed me to focus my time and energy where I wanted it to be: with my mom. Men are capable of stepping up in this way; we must give them the opportunity to grasp their full power, which includes caregiving, being vulnerable, openly communicating, and being a part of building a life outside of just being a provider.
So, when I think about the true advice I would give someone navigating the sandwich generation, it’s deep, and I’m not sure it’s immediately possible for many. But I’m going to give it anyway: choose people to do life with (partners, family, friends) who co-create the masterpiece with you, who can pick up any of the pieces at any time so that you can do what you need and want to do. We only have so much energy, and we can only physically be in one place at a time. I’ve come to realize that the ability to be fully present is a huge privilege. It means there’s safety, support, and security in all of the other important places in my life. For everyone to truly be able to practice presence, we must collectively value care.