A few years ago, I was a midwife at a busy NHS hospital. I had completed an exhilarating three years of training while juggling a young family and a part-time job. I felt an enormous amount of pride for what I’d achieved. I loved my new career, and I’d begun to see it as part of my identity.

My husband has complex mental health conditions and a neurological disorder, and his health problems began to spiral. He found it increasingly difficult to cope at home on his own, so I made the decision to leave midwifery to be his full-time carer. 

I wanted to be there for my family, but in many ways, this decision broke me. I felt as if I lost a huge part of who I was. All those years of focusing on my training and starting a new career felt wasted – my identity fragmented.

One of the first things carers usually have to deal with are the financial implications of caring full time. Surviving on a carer’s allowance (£67.60 per week) when you have a young family is not easy. Carers often have to accompany their loved ones to degrading disability assessments and watch as they ‘prove’ their illnesses in order to qualify for the money they need to survive.

Sometimes, we are our loved ones’ only advocates and we spend lots of our time and energy helping their voices to be heard. Then there’s the stigma involved with being at home and being on benefits, despite the fact that carers save the economy £132 billion per year.

One of the best things I did was join a carers support group in my local community. I met others who understand what it’s like to spend hours on the phone listening to the same hold music waiting to be put through to the community mental health team, benefits offices, and GP surgeries. I also met others who know how many hours are spent in hospital waiting rooms, or how many months are spent on waiting lists only for appointments to be rearranged. The sessions gave me a sense of community and some brief respite from my caring responsibilities.

Being a carer can be an isolating experience, so the opportunity to spend extra time socially with other family and friends at Christmas can be a godsend.

But as a carer, it isn’t always easy to drop everything and go out. Health conditions fluctuate, so picking up the phone at the last minute to cancel a night out is very common. Lots of carers turn down invitations on the spot to avoid doing this, and very often after a while, the invites stop coming. Agonising over ways to attend Christmas events can therefore be another tricky part of the season. 

But, the bond that forms between a carer and their loved one can be very special and extremely powerful. I spend almost all day, every day with my husband, and the support isn’t just a one-way street. We both pick up each other’s cues about how we’re feeling at lightning speed and although it makes caring feel all the more difficult when I’m under the weather, it’s wonderful to be looking after someone who ‘gets it.’

Helping another person get through the day, assisting with personal care and medication as well as juggling household tasks and taking care of children can put a strain on the caring relationship. The person being cared for can feel guilty or frustrated at having some of their independence taken away which often leads to tension.

For our family, Christmas is a wonderful time to just be ‘us’ together. Obviously, my husband is still unwell, and I’m still caring for him, but we don’t have any appointments to juggle, and we can be with the wider family who all pitch in and help make it special for the children.

There are lots of things people can do to help the carers in their lives at Christmas. Offering support with gift browsing, being flexible and understanding about festive invitations and most of all, checking in on them over Christmas. Carers rarely as for help because they’re used to being the ones helping. So don’t wait for them to call, reach out and let them know you are there.

The Imperfect Art Of Caring by Jessica Ryn, published by HQ in hardback, ebook and audio, is out now. 

Images: Getty, Jessica Ryn, HQ publisher