Caught in the Middle: What I Learned as a Single Adoptive Mom Caring for My Mother After Her Stroke
I still remember the day everything changed.
I was juggling motherhood, work, bills, school pickups (the typical rhythm of life as a single adoptive mom to a young daughter) when I realized I couldn’t reach my mom. I called, left messages, tried again. Nothing. I called my local brother; he couldn’t reach her either. He got in touch with the property manager at her apartment complex, and when Mom didn’t answer the door, they called the fire department to break down her front door.
When my brother and I arrived, our hearts were in our throats.
They had found Mom on the floor of her bedroom. We eventually pieced together that she had been there for quite a while (I had sent her a fax the night before, which helped us narrow down when she’d had the stroke. All of this took place just nine months after my younger brother unexpectedly died.) Nothing would ever be the same.
In an instant, I became part of the “caught in the middle” generation: caring for a child and a parent at the same time with my brother. And like so many caregivers, I had no map, no plan, and no idea how long the journey ahead would be.
My mother’s decline happened in stages. She never lived independently again. She never drove her car again, something she bitterly regretted and never got over. It was the loss of her independence.
After the hospital came rehab, then she lived with my brother and spent weekends with us until she started a fire in our kitchen, and then moved into assisted living.
After assisted living we moved mom into room-and-board care, where hospice would come and help to take care of her, she remained there until she passed away.
My brother and I did not know or find out until after her stroke that mom had designated me as her power of attorney for healthcare.
Each transition felt like a crisis.
Each decision felt like a test I wasn’t prepared for.
And while my brother and I did our best to navigate it all, the truth is that I often felt like I was drowning.
What no one tells you about caregiving is how lonely it can be.
How much guilt you carry.
How much emotional whiplash you endure.
How exhausted you become trying to “keep it together” for everyone else.
At the time, I didn’t have the tools I now teach my clients.
Breathwork.
Grounding.
Stress reduction techniques.
Gentle self-hypnosis to steady the mind when everything feels out of control.
The reminder that I matter too, even when caring for someone I love.
If I could go back, I would sit beside that younger version of myself and teach her how to breathe again. How to anchor herself in moments of overwhelm. How to calm the racing thoughts before making another impossible decision.
And I wish I had someone like Lynn walking beside me during that time.
Someone who understands the practical side of caregiving: the legal decisions, the financial realities, the planning no one wants to think about until it’s too late.
That’s why the two of us are teaming up for something deeply personal:
The Caught in the Middle 4-Part Workshop Series
January 14 – February 4, 2026
Each Wednesday from 9-10:15am PT
Together, we’re offering what we both desperately wish we’d had:
❤️ Emotional support
🧘 Stress-reduction tools and breathwork
📘 Practical guidance for planning and decision-making
💬 Live Q&A
🎁 Bonus tools and resources
✨ Plus a 1:1 complimentary session with each of us
If you’re caring for an aging parent, juggling multiple roles, or preparing for what’s ahead, I hope you’ll join us.
You don’t have to navigate this alone… not the stress, not the decisions, not the emotional toll.
We’re here with open hearts, lived experience, and the kind of support caregivers rarely receive.
Join us on January 14. You deserve the tools we didn’t have.
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Sharing is caring 💛
If you know a friend, sibling, coworker, or neighbor who’s “caught in the middle” of caring for aging parents while juggling everything else, would you consider sharing this post with them? Sometimes knowing we’re not alone is the first real breath we take all day.
I also love hearing other caregivers’ stories.
If you feel comfortable, email me at Lucy@lucyseligman.com and share a bit of what you’re walking through. I read and respond to every single message.