May 20: Childbirth During a Pandemic (Guest Writer)

My Guest Writer post this year comes to us courtesy of my colleague, Shae. I’ve worked with her a number of years now. She started at my school as a special ed. teacher. We had at least one year when students in my class were on her case load, which brought her into my classroom frequently. After that she joined me on the 5th grade team, where she remains today. 

Last year, 2019, really was her year. After working at it with more self-discipline than I’ve ever seen anyone else display, she earned pro status in competitive body building (which was great on the days when the caps of my Diet Mountain Dew bottles were too tight for me). The same day that happened, her long-time boyfriend proposed. Months later they were married. Not long after that she was pregnant with her first child. Any one of those life events would have been defining for a whole year on their own, but she lined them up and knocked them down inside of the same twelve months. 

Then, of course, 2020 hit and the world began to burn. The due date for her little guy was in the back half of April, which gave her a good number of weeks to wonder about and plan for and stress over what was going to be involved in giving birth during a pandemic. 

When I posted a general invitation for anyone who wanted to take on a guest writer slot during this year’s marathon of daily posting in May, she offered to write something up. Here’s what she has to say about making it through what was, and continues to be, a very singular experience.

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When I pictured my birth story throughout my pregnancy, I never imagined that it would end up being what it was. How could I have ever prepared myself for welcoming my first baby into this world during a pandemic? When the news of COVID-19 first started to surface, it seemed like a distant issue. The thought that the virus could make it's way to America and impact us on the scale that it has never crossed my mind. Boy was I naive. 

Around the beginning of March students at school started to talk about the Coronavirus... and suddenly needed hand sanitizer on them at all times. We had a few discussions about it, and I told them they didn't need to worry. I was convinced myself that there was no cause for concern. I could have never predicted that the last day of school before spring break would be the last day I would see my students for the school year. Again, I was naive. But really, who wasn't? 

So, with a stay-at-home order in place, I got to spend the last month of my pregnancy within the comfort of my own home. I had the privilege of being able to wear comfortable clothes all day, put my feet up when I needed, go for walks with my pups to keep myself and baby moving, and most importantly I could freely use the bathroom (no running across the hall to find someone to cover my class!). It was kind of an ideal situation for me. I remember thinking throughout that entire last month how badly I wanted my son to be here. That I would worry less about COVID once he was here. At this point, I should have just been wearing a giant glowing sign on my head that said "NAIVE." 

As soon as the threat of the virus hit home for me, I quarantined myself. I didn't leave the house unless it was for a doctor's appointment. I started to worry about so many things that were out of my control. I didn't want to worry about these things, but it felt impossible not to:

1) What happens to my baby if I get the virus?

2) What if I have COVID when it comes time for delivery?

3) What if my husband gets it, and he can't be in the labor & delivery room with me?

4) What if I have to do this alone?

5) Will I be separated from my baby if I have the virus at the time of delivery?

6) When will my family be able to meet my son? 

My son's due date was April 19th. I was convinced he would be early. However, he had other plans. In the early afternoon of April 23rd I noticed that I was feeling different. I couldn't exactly explain it, but my body just felt different. A few hours later I started to experience contractions in my lower back (damn back labor). My husband and brother were working on putting in our new kitchen island (awesome timing).. and I started to time my contractions. Today was going to be the day! 

Sidebar: Throughout my entire pregnancy I limited the amount of excitement that I felt about the arrival of my son, because I was afraid that as soon as I truly accepted that I was going to be a mom, that it would be taken away from me. This was my way of "preparing" for a worst-case scenario. SO, when it finally came time for my little man to be here, I allowed myself to feel some of the excitement that I had been pushing away for so long. Unfortunately, I had imagined that when I finally allowed myself to feel this excitement, and soak in the joy of my son, that I would be doing so with my family and friends. COVID took that from me. 

We had to wear masks in the hospital, but other than that things felt pretty normal. It didn't seem out of place to see doctors and nurses in masks. My husband and I were both healthy, so some of my earlier fears faded. I ended up being in labor for about 16 hours, and I pushed for a little over three of those. On top of that I had to be poked twice for the epidural, my babe was sunny-side up and wouldn't rotate, and then he had his cord wrapped around his neck. He also decided he didn't want to breathe on his own right away, so we suddenly had 11 nurses in the room working on him while I'm laying helpless on the hospital bed watching. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only 10 minutes or so, our little guy was doing significantly better. He just need a little help getting started. Overall, my labor and delivery experience wasn't impacted by COVID, and for that I'm thankful. 

I was saddened at first when hospitals no longer allowed visitors. I had always pictured my family coming to visit at the hospital to share in the joy of my son. However, I was actually a little bit appreciative that people weren't allowed to visit in the hospital as I can't imagine having visitors on top of how frequently the nurses were coming in. Not to mention how exhausted I was. I wouldn't mind if that rule stayed in place forever.

My son is now almost 4 weeks old. The first couple nights home were rough, but things have gotten a bit better. Every day is so different. Being a new parent is hard. I think any parent could tell you that. However, most new parents are lucky enough to have some help from family or friends. Whether it be holding the baby so mom and dad can get some stuff done around the house or take a nap, or actually having people do some cleaning or laundry while mom feeds baby and dad naps.. however it looks, it sounds wonderful to just have an extra hand. I felt okay about being on my own, with my husband of course, at first. But yesterday, I'd had enough. I broke down while on the phone with my dad. What I wouldn't give to be able to have my mom or my sister come over (even to just hang out with)... and not on the deck six feet apart. I don't mind some alone time now and again, but it's been two months. I'm over it. I've never done so much sitting in my life. I'm going stir crazy, and my body actually hurts from not doing anything. Obviously, if I wasn't recovering myself and had some time in the day to do so, I would be getting some sort of workout in. Right now though, that's not feasible most days. 

I'm exhausted. I miss my family and friends. I have this beautiful baby boy that I only get to share with loved ones through glass. My son is my grandma and grandpa's first great-grandchild. I know this isn't just hard on me. The worst part? I have NO idea when things are going to get better. My husband and I are now discussing safe ways we can have our family hold our son without jeopardizing anyone's health or safety. It is extremely stressful. But we can't live in isolation forever. I know this. Unfortunately, it doesn't make it any easier. We have a long road ahead. 

So, if you have any friends/loved ones that are pregnant or newly a parent, reach out to them. Offer to come sit outside with them while social distancing (I know it's not the same but it's something), check in to see how they're doing, bring over some coffee or food, or simply tell them they're doing a great job. The stress of being a new parent is hard enough as it is. Having to do it alone during a freaking pandemic? Simply unfair. 

You know what though? Every time I look down at my baby boy I am reminded that it's worth it. One day I'll look back on this unexpected birth story, and remember how strong I was. Maybe not every day, but damnit, I was (AM) a warrior.