I’ve been struggling with how to write this post for the better part of a week. I’m just going to put it out there in rough form and touch it up later, if I feel like it.
As a new parent, I think about the world a bit differently than I used to. I can’t continue to live my life like it’s just about me because now I have an infant son to consider. He shouldn’t need to suffer due to my selfishness.
But when does it turn around and become time for the child to care for the parent?
My mother has a chronic illness (multiple sclerosis) and the past year has not been good for her. She’s trying to stay working for another year or two in order to be eligible for disability payments through Social Security. In theory it’s a great idea, in practice it’s probably making her condition worse. If she has to stop working before her disability eligibility kicks in, I’m not sure how she and my father will get by. They’re both schoolteachers and don’t make much combined, nevermind trying to live on a single educator’s income.
I’ve talked with my husband about moving in with my parents should things really go downhill in the next year or so. He’s in agreement that it’s the right thing to do even though we’re not sure how we’d provide for our own part of the family. Living with my parents would involve moving to another state, so we’d both need to find jobs. The economy isn’t great right now and even less-so where my parents are living. Moving them back up to MA isn’t really an option because it’s less affordable here than where they are.
Mom hasn’t been coping well with the loss of function that comes with MS. I’ve been extremely worried about her mental and emotional state. I can imagine it’s frustrating to have your motor control slowly taken away by a constantly degrading nervous system. The problem is, I can’t really imagine it at all. I have no context for sympathy or empathy and don’t think there’s a thing I can do to help her. Sometimes when she’s having a particularly bad moment she’ll comment about her declining quality of life and lack of will to continue it. I’m not an advocate for suicide but I can almost see her point. It’s the least desirable outcome for everyone else, but if none of the medications and therapies available are helping her, how does she fight those demons?
So I sit here and wait. Sometimes I cry because it’s good to vent the anger and frustration. I wish there was something more I could do. More than giving my time and money to the Multiple Sclerosis Society. More than writing about how I feel. I just don’t know what that more is.
