So, here we are on the other side of the abyss. Covid-19 is hanging around like an irritating fly before a rainstorm.
We can’t seem to make it go away, and we don’t want to think about how many germs it might be leaving at this very moment with its sticky little feet.
I suddenly have a six-month-old and a three-year-old. None of my friends have held or cuddled my baby, and most have not met him.
My toddler has missed out on EIGHT MONTHS of playgroups, friends, parties, and great-grandparents.
We have snuck in grandparent time as lockdown levels have crept down, and we visited the beach to convince ourselves that summer is going to be epic—even though the huge family Christmas is probably still ‘cancelled.’
A baby and a pandemic
The hospital thing turned out to be a non-event at the beginning of May 2020.
My lockdown Level 4 baby was healthy and in a hurry. Aside from giving birth rather more quickly than I anticipated, and being subjected to a gag-inducing throat Covid swab immediately after pushing out a baby, it was easy.
Half a year later, we’re together, healthy, and wondering what surprises 2021 is harbouring.
My second son was born only an hour after arriving at the emergency entrance in the middle of the night. I will never forget standing for a million Covid questions while 4cm dilated and breathing through contractions. They let us both in, though.
Different but okay
My masked husband (superhero) was there to cut the cord and take precious newborn pictures, but chased home shortly after our sweet new son made his appearance.
As expected, he wasn’t allowed back into the hospital, and fetched us in the carpark the next morning to go home.
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Friends have had wildly different experiences since then, especially with C-sections.
Some did it alone or stayed three days in the hospital with their spouse, leaving older children in the care of relatives.
Other mothers were alone for days or weeks without Dad meeting the baby (except through glass).
All of us have come through it with a new baby and a story to tell.
Emotions, hormones, and autopilot
It’s been hard. The hormones alone should be enough drama for any new mother, but now it’s with restrictions, lifestyle changes, isolation, and continual survival mode. Is this what it feels like to give birth during a war or in a refugee camp?
Probably not even close to it, but some days are still excruciating.
There have been so many moments where I’ve wanted to push my adorable child into the arms of those I love and miss, and then remembered that a pandemic trumps kisses and cuddles.
A recent Zoom family funeral ended hope that we would see my 91-year-old gran again after this is all over. Children have been dying of Covid, too. Masks are still mandatory.
Get busy living
Every now and again a Shawshank Redemption moment lifts my head, “get busy living or get busy dying” (in a Morgan Freeman voice).
If you’re there, I hope you choose light, love, and happiness in the midst of a pandemic. Life moves on, and Covid-19 doesn’t dictate whether we appreciate what we have been given.
Keep your eyes on your maker, it’s going to be okay, even if coronavirus sticks around for a while.
Also, what a huge blessing it has been to have an innocent, happy baby bring SO MUCH JOY into the midst of a dark time.
Isn’t life beautiful?
