A Mother’s Burden
I never imagined my life would turn out this way. When I agreed to help out my friend, Sarah, by looking after her daughter, Lily, while she worked, I never expected things to turn out like this. What started as a favor has turned into a role I never signed up for.
It all began innocently enough. Sarah, a single mom, asked if I could watch Lily for a few hours while she ran some errands and had a “little me-time.” As a close friend, I didn’t hesitate. I had always been fond of Lily—she was a sweet, funny seven-year-old with a bright smile and an imagination that could light up any room.
But the “few hours” quickly turned into an entire day, then a weekend, and now, weeks have passed. Sarah, it turns out, wasn’t just busy with errands. She was out at parties, meeting friends, and living a life that had little room for her responsibilities as a mother. And there I was, suddenly the one picking up the pieces.
At first, I didn’t mind. Lily was easy to care for—she loved arts and crafts, and I enjoyed spending time with her. But as the days turned into weeks, the burden grew heavier. I was the one taking her to school, helping with homework, and making sure she ate a healthy dinner. And Sarah? She was always just a text away, but when she did reply, it was usually to say she was “too busy” to pick Lily up or make plans.
One night, after I had tucked Lily into bed, I sat down to confront Sarah.
“Sarah, we need to talk,” I texted.
She called immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I’ve been taking care of Lily for weeks now,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I understand you need a break, but you can’t keep leaving me with her like this.”
There was silence on the other end. Then, she sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. But you know how it is—sometimes, I just need to get away. I need to remember who I am, not just be a mom.”
I could hear the faint sound of music in the background of her call, and my heart sank. She was at another party.
“I get that, Sarah,” I said, my voice breaking. “But it’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to Lily. She needs her mom, not just someone to watch over her.”
Sarah paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “I’m sorry, really. I just feel like I’m losing myself. I haven’t had a life outside of being a mom for so long.”
I knew that feeling. The isolation, the exhaustion. But I also knew that being a mother meant sacrifices.
“Sarah, you can have your life and be a mom too,” I said softly. “But you need to be there for Lily, and she can’t be raised by me.”
She promised to start making more of an effort, but her actions didn’t follow. And as the days wore on, I realized something—I had taken on a role I wasn’t prepared for. I wasn’t Lily’s mother, and I couldn’t keep raising her while Sarah enjoyed her freedom.
I had to make a choice. For both of us.
