Single Parenting with a Chronic Illness

gentle ways to cope, support yourself, and keep showing up with love

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I’ve been parenting solo for a long time now, almost a decade. It’s never been easy, but when I was diagnosed with a chronic illness, everything shifted again. There are days I feel strong and capable, and days I feel like I’m moving through fog – trying to show up for my children while my body whispers (or shouts) that it needs to rest. Some days I manage the to-do list; other days, the biggest win is keeping everyone fed and safe. If you’re in this space too – trying to raise little ones while navigating your own pain or exhaustion—I want you to know I truly understand. This post is for us.

Being a single parent is already a full-time job of the heart—and when you add a chronic illness into the mix, it can feel like you’re carrying the weight of two worlds. The unseen exhaustion, the flares that arrive without warning, the quiet grief of not being able to do everything you want to for your children… It’s a lot. And I want you to know that you’re not alone in this.

If you’re mothering through chronic illness, especially as a solo parent, I see you. I hope these words offer comfort and a few ideas that might lighten the load, even just a little.

1. Reframe what “enough” looks like

There will be days when the house is messy, screen time stretches a bit longer, and you serve toast for tea—and that is still enough. Let go of the pressure to do it all. Your love, your presence (even when you’re resting on the sofa), your soft care—that’s what your children need most. Not perfection.

2. Create simple rhythms, not rigid routines

Rigid schedules can feel overwhelming when your energy levels are unpredictable. Instead, try creating soft rhythms to your days—things that anchor you and your child without becoming a burden. A cosy morning moment with tea and a cuddle, a quiet hour after lunch, stories before bed. Small rituals that feel supportive, not exhausting.

3. Prepare for low-energy days

Have a “bad day basket” or shelf for both you and your child. For them, include independent play things like puzzles, books, audio stories, drawing supplies, or sensory toys. For you, keep snacks, medication, water, a soft blanket, and maybe a journal or calming playlist nearby. Preparing ahead helps reduce guilt and stress when a flare hits.

4. Ask for help (and accept it)

This one can feel hard, especially when you’re used to being the one holding everything. But allowing someone to bring you a meal, take your child to the park, or sit with them for an hour while you rest isn’t weakness—it’s wisdom. Build your village slowly, one safe person at a time.

5. Use technology as a tool, not a crutch

Audiobooks, nature documentaries, educational apps—these can be incredibly helpful when you need to rest. Don’t guilt yourself for leaning on them. You’re creating a balance between rest and stimulation, and that’s okay.

6. Simplify meals and chores

It’s okay to keep things really simple. Batch cook on a good day. Keep nourishing freezer meals ready. Choose foods that are easy to digest and energy-friendly. And give yourself permission to let things go. A sink of dishes won’t harm anyone. Your health matters more than a spotless house.

7. Prioritise your nervous system

A calm nervous system helps everything feel more manageable. Ground yourself with tiny rituals: breathwork, lying flat on the floor, humming, stretching gently in bed. Even 30 seconds of stillness matters. Your children benefit from your regulation as much as they do from your actions.

8. Speak gently to yourself

The way you speak to yourself—especially on the hard days—matters. You are not failing. You are showing up in a million quiet ways that no one sees. You are doing beautifully, even when it feels like you’re falling apart.

You’re not broken. You’re living bravely.

Being a chronically ill, single mother requires the kind of strength that isn’t always loud or visible. It’s the strength of getting out of bed when you’re in pain. The strength of making your child feel loved when your own heart is weary. The strength of continuing on, day after day, when no one is cheering you on.

So from me to you: I’m cheering for you. I’m honouring your softness, your struggle, your fierce love.

And I hope you remember—rest is not failure. Slowness is not laziness. You are enough. Exactly as you are.

With love xox