For most of us the circle of life entails growing up, moving out and starting our lives separate from our parents. Many of us start families and we become the parents. Some of us at one point or another find ourselves caught in that place where you are needed as both the caregiver to your children and also to your parents. It is stressful. It is emotionally draining. It is a fact of life for so many of us. However, when that call comes, you know what you can do and what you need to do and you just do it.

"Jennifer, the doctor found a blockage. Dad is going to the hospital. You need to come home."

Just like that everything changes. In mid-December in the middle of the teenagers' finals and the second grader's parties, I got the call and I knew I needed to go to my Dad. Yes, my kids wanted me to be there to help them study, get them to their social events and just be there as Mom. However, my Dad needed me. I am lucky enough to be a position that I can drop everything and hit the road and be back in my childhood home within hours. I have a husband who will step in and pick up the slack and friends who can lend a hand. Most of the time without my ever having to ask for help.

Three years ago today my mom died. The six months prior to that was a nonstop road trip for me as I went from my own home with my children and taking care of them to my mom's bedside being there for her and helping my dad. It was exhausting, emotionally draining and mentally taxing to go from the daughter taking care of the parents to the parent taking care of the kids and back. Somewhere in there, I lost myself. I lost the person in the middle of this sandwich generation. It was two slices of bread with very little substance in between.  The woman who knew who she was and what she wanted had become almost unrecognizable. Three years later and I am still looking for her.

When you are thrown into the role of the "sandwich generation" you face challenges that people who are not in that position may not understand. It is not a question of whether or not you will go when the call comes but rather how long will you be gone. It is not the help you may need. It is more about the help you need to give. I am not the only woman who has lost herself sandwiched between parents and children. Many of us have. Most don't say anything about it. Is it because we feel we have to be strong? Do we feel that it would burden others to know how we struggle sometimes? Or is it as simple (and complex) as the fact that we are so used to taking care of others, we forget to take care of ourselves along the way?

I am thankful that the phone call about my dad a couple of weeks ago turned out as well as it did and that he is home and is healthy and as strong as ever. I was blessed. You see, after my mom died, there will never be a "normal" visit to the hospital for my dad. Every pain will send off alarms for me. Every potentially fearful outcome to a test will pop into my head during routine testing. Each time something even slightly abnormal shows up, I will again race to be there.

I know I am not alone.

Elizabeth of Busy Mom went through something similar just a few days ago.

My dad had to go the the ER and I was at home with a bunch of little boys who don't understand anxiety.

Busy Dad took him, so he was away and Busy Girl wasn't home, but I wasn't about to dump that on her, anyway.

Since my mother died a couple of years ago, I get a little skittish when some things happen, and I turned to the Internet to try to distract me and you guys really came through...

She went on to introduce herself as many of us have done:

So, if you're new here, I'm an only child and my 76 year old dad has lived alone since my mom died. He's in good health, teaches high school full time, but when something goes wrong, there's only me.

I work full time and have three young kids, so I remain: The Sandwich Generation Poster Child.  But, I'm not alone.

New Midlife Mommy shared so beautifully what her last moments with her mom were like...

On that awful night, as I lay next to my mother, a wonderful thing
happened.  Sleep escaped me, but I was bathed in the warmth of one
wonderful memory after another.  Memories of just my mom and me, of our
whole lives together.  Memories of childhood.  Memories of my wedding. 
Memories of the last day we spent together, when she held me as I cried
because I was worried about her slipping health.  She'd asked me then,
"Do you believe in God?"  I told her of course I did.  "Well, then
there's nothing to worry about then."  I think that on some level, she
was trying to give me one final gift on her last night here on earth. 
A gift of love.  To let me see that all was forgiven, that in the end,
our true heart is all that matters.

...and then the frustration many of us in the Sandwich Generation share:

Since then, we have just been performing our obligations. Or, actually, I've been performing most of our obligations. My father is feeling lost, because my mother always did everything for him. My brother has expressed no preferences one way or another -- somehow, I find this incredibly annoying. I have often felt overwhelmed since my mother left us. I dread the thought of what kind of funeral she would have had if it were up to the two of them, instant indecision makers that they are. I'm thankful that my mother drilled her history, my history, into my head. It allowed me to answer the funeral home's questions easily.

You may not recognize us when you see us in the grocery store, but you will in a hospital. We may not tell you about the fear of failing our parents or our children but we do fear failing one generation while we are caring for the other. But once you enter our "club" and join the legions of poster children living the sandwich generation, you will begin to recognize the fear, learn the code we speak in and know that we are doing the best we can. For everyone involved.

More bloggers writing about the Sandwich Generation are GenBetween written by Amy Jeanroy (formerly written by Elizabeth) and Sometimes I Feel Like a Piece of Bologna written by Pat.

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Contributing Editor (Mommy & Family) Jennifer Satterwhite also writes at Mommy Needs Coffee and Parenting and is the founder of Mommybloggers.