It’s safe to say the past few weeks have been extremely tough.
Nothing you haven’t heard from basically everyone, right?! Doug and I keep reflecting on what a weird – scary – time we’re living in right now. The Coronavirus outbreak and its effects on both individuals and society at large has been nothing short of life changing, no matter who you are.
I’ve been largely quiet since Beau’s birth, as we’ve spent much-needed time adjusting to life quarantined with a newborn and two toddlers, rolling with some unexpected punches, and trying to keep everything together for our family. (Not to mention, given the scenario, it’s been pretty much impossible to sit down and write!) Today, I’m breaking that brief silence to share some of what we’ve been going through as a family. If sharing our experience thus far can help even one of you feel not so alone during this hard time of (literal) isolation, then that’s a win in my eyes.
I hope that we can bind together to share understanding, hope, and love; all things I believe can be found, no matter the circumstance. We’ve certainly experienced that to be true, especially during this uncertain time.
Current Status: Stronger Together
Our “Corona” story starts about a week before Beau’s birth.
There’s a lot here, so I’m going to skim over the key points for the sake of brevity. Coronavirus was all over the news, but it wasn’t yet in Michigan. (Well, at least we didn’t think it was. We know now that the limited testing means it likely was already spreading here.) It was something to watch, but it wasn’t in our immediate purview. (I’m a bit ashamed to admit that.) At 39 weeks pregnant, we were hyper-focused on our family and having a healthy and safe delivery.
I’d been trying to naturally induce labor the entire week before Beau’s due date. I tried everything — seemingly all the old wives tales — and do you know what finally pushed me into it? It was the night of Wednesday, March 11. Two days before my due date. President Trump had just given a speech declaring a national emergency surrounding Coronavirus. My contractions started almost immediately after his broadcast. Go figure.
I have a separate post sharing Beau’s delivery story – I want to keep his story separate from all this; he deserves his own spotlight! – but the highlight is that our sweet little guy was born on the morning of March 12 to two parents with happy tears in their eyes.
Rolling With The Punches
As we were recovering in our hospital room, admiring our perfect little baby who helped all of the problems we were facing momentarily melt away, we received an automated phone call from Grace and Joey’s school district. All schools were to be closed until mid-April. Doug and I looked at each other and just laughed. Of course this would happen as we were about to bring home an infant. So began the journey of having two toddlers and a newborn at home full time. “It’s alright, we’ve got this,” we said.
There was apparently an influx of babies born on Beau’s birthday, and we were basically thrown out of the hospital the morning after I delivered.
I say that with the utmost understanding; we were all healthy enough to go home and were happy to give up our room to anyone who needed it. Before going home, we consulted with the doctors about how to treat Beau and visitors. “Nothing out of the ordinary with a newborn — just make sure people are vigilant about washing their hands if they hold him.” Alright, cool, done. We went home — stressed, yes — but so gosh darn happy with our little bundle of joy.
We arrived home, and our parents came to visit. A few of our siblings stopped by. Grace and Joey had sleepovers at their grandparents to give Doug and I some time to catch up on sleep and care for Beau the first two nights. It wasn’t until Beau’s follow-up doctor’s visit a few days later that the tide changed.
Beau’s doing great – thank goodness – but we were given strict direction to now completely quarantine ourselves. No grandparents, no visitors. Just me, Doug, Grace, Joey and Beau. If anyone brings food or items, they needed to leave them on the porch and we had to wipe it all down. Absolutely zero contact with anyone, until at least mid-April, but probably longer.
The new direction left me in a state of absolute panic.
We had close family over to our house — did one of them unknowingly have Coronavirus? Did Grace and Joey? Did Doug or I?! What if we were exposed in the hospital? I was sent into a flurry of gut-wrenching worry. I felt like a terrible mom. I’m still constantly worried about it — every day that passes without one of us getting sick is a win. But, we’re not in the clear. Will we ever be? Even 10 days into isolation, I’m constantly worried and anxious. There’s virtually no information on the effects of the virus on newborns.
Looking back, it’s crazy to see how much things changed even from the medical community’s perspective over the course of just days. Our situation went from “Make sure everyone’s washing their hands well” when Beau was born, to needing to be in complete isolation. It just goes to show how fast and furiously this virus has taken society by storm. We’re doing our best to manage and mitigate risk; and we’re learning as we go. As medical professionals, as parents. We’re all doing our best.
Then, another tough blow came. The company Doug worked for unexpectedly filed for bankruptcy. He was to lose his job. Which meant no more primary income, and no health insurance, starting immediately. We felt like the rug was pulled out from under us — this is not the time to be left stranded without health insurance in particular, and yet here we are.
So there you have it. You’re up to speed with the many ways we’re personally cursing Coronavirus and working together to figure out a way forward.
Over the past few weeks, it feels like we’ve been thrown into a tornado that just keeps spinning faster and faster. We had a baby. Our two toddlers had their school cancelled. We’re facing sudden job loss and an impossible economic situation. We’re scrambling to get health insurance for our family. We have a vulnerable newborn we’re trying to protect. We’re all adjusting to life with a newborn and a new normal of being home 24/7. I’m in the thick of postpartum healing, and getting limited sleep. We’re isolated. We’re trying to be as solution-oriented as possible, which unfortunately during this crazy time, doesn’t mean much. Or rather, it means staying home. (Which I hope you’re doing, too.) We’re taking things one day at a time.
I fluctuate between feeling simply grateful for our health, to sobbing ugly tears on Doug’s shoulder or when my parents call to check in. Every other minute I’m checking our family for fevers. I’m constantly worried. For our immediate family. For my parents. My entire family. My step-mom and brother are both nurses, working on the front lines of all this at our local hospital. There’s not enough medical supplies to help protect them. The worry truly has no bounds — I’m worried for us, for you, for the world. As a parent it feels particularly heavy, especially given the fact that we just brought a life into it all.
The house don’t fall when the bones are good.
A song that’s been on repeat for me lately: “The Bones” by Marin Morris. It speaks to me because it’s all about the importance of a strong foundation while you’re weathering a storm, and how your house doesn’t fall when the bones of it are good. That’s absolutely how I feel right now.
Now more than ever, I’m feeling so grateful for my husband, our marriage, and our kids. For our parents, family, and friends. We have this force field of support around us that would never let us fall, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I knew that before, but seeing it play out over the past few weeks has been nothing short of humbling, comforting, and encouraging. It’s really shown me the importance of your tribe — people who you can lean on no matter what.
In our humble little home, we’re doing our best to keep things positive.
For us personally, and for our kids. We blare the music and have dance parties. We’ve created a “Home Camp” schedule (which we’ve followed, like, one day – ha) and have been doing fun toddler activities. We say, “I love you” more than any other words. We’ve been taking days slow. We pray before dinner and bed, which is something that we sadly forgot about frequently before. We’ve been enjoying every second of Beau cuddles. We Facetime our friends and family every day. Our bones…they’re good. They’re stressed and anxious and don’t know what tomorrow will hold — like all of you — but the foundation is solid, and that ‘s enough for now.
We’re all weathering this storm together.
It’s easy for us to feel “woe-is-me” and turn inward – and honestly every feeling is valid during this unprecedented time – but the truth is that we’re all facing adversity. It may look different for each of us, but no one has this easy. We’re all weathering this storm together. We’re all in the ship, being tossed by the unexpected waves none of us anticipated or welcomed, trying our best to stay afloat.
And honestly, if staying home is the best way to help fight this thing…we’ve got it easy. I think of all the medical professionals on the front line, giving themselves every day to help fight this fight. They’re absolute heroes. The workers in essential job functions like grocery stores, sanitation workers, and government officials who are doing vital jobs to keep us safe and fed. This is not a situation any of us anticipated, but I’m so thankful and encouraged by humanity and the fact that there are always helpers. Everywhere we look, you can find them. How amazing is that?
Jobs aside, there are people dying. Beyond any fears or frustrations I may have on the circumstances surrounding us personally, I’m just so grateful for our health. We’re alive. We’re doing well. (Knock on wood.) It’s not lost onto me that health is not guaranteed. What more can we ask for? Times like these are hard, yes, but they are also great reminders of what really matters at the end of the day.
A Change In Perspective
Hard times have a way of bringing moments of extreme clarity, don’t they? I feel like the past few weeks have brought that to us all. What really matters, and what doesn’t. It has certainly refocused me in ways I didn’t even realize I needed.
This may seem weird to say, but I almost feel like the earth is trying to tell us all something. We’ve been taking everything for granted — clean air, our infrastructure, how our society functions, the people in our lives. We’re so privileged and this situation is a great reminder that we should never, ever take even simple things for granted. I can tell you that after this is all over, I’ll never look at things like dinner with friends, watching my kids on the playground, school, or access to high-quality health care the same way again.
I hope, when this is all over, we’re all changed when it comes to perspective. And I don’t think you can go through a situation like this and not be forever affected. I hope we’re kinder to each other, and to our world.
This Is Our Fight Song
None of us know what tomorrow will bring. The optimist in me wants to give a motivational pep talk proclaiming that, “YES! We’ll all be okay! This will pass quickly!” I wish I could do that confidently. But I don’t know that, and right now we’re like so many of you and taking this scenario one day at a time. We’re trying to be positive where we can, and are allowing ourselves understanding in moments of weakness. I hope you are doing the same.
So, overall, I’m left with this: May we all act/live with gratitude, do what we can to help and support one another, and do our best given the hand we’ve been dealt. I really do believe we’ll come out of this scenario changed – and importantly – better than before. We’ll have to continue weathering this storm. But, we’ll do it together. And if there’s anything I’ve learned from all this, it’s that together is what matters most.
