Being Pregnant during a Pandemic
By: Leslie Keyes
Tags: Hope, Fear, Pregnancy, Parenting, Coronavirus

Being Pregnant during a Pandemic

How COVID-19 is preparing us for parenthood

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

I found out we were pregnant at the beginning of 2020, rounding the end of the first trimester as stay at home orders were released. I had been quiet about my pregnancy except to a select few, praying for a healthy outcome.

My husband’s first day joining me working from home, the doctor called. He quickly reassured us that the latest tests showed all was fine with the pregnancy and then asked an exciting question. “Do you want to know the sex?”

My husband and I had previously debated the merits of gender reveal parties and decided they weren’t for us. We had weighed potential options to make this unveiling more of an event, but ultimately asked that the gender simply be emailed to us. I was so grateful my husband was home so we could find out together, right away. We opened the email at the dining room table mid-day. After quickly celebrating the joyful news, it was time to return to the at home work day.

This quiet, uneventful experience of gratitude between just the two of us at home pretty much describes my entire pregnancy thus far.

I haven’t shared the news on social media. I’ve been spared strangers hands on my belly and comments about how big I’m getting. Managed to get by without maternity clothes. Never browsed the aisles of a baby store. Haven’t sat in a circle with other women, our partners behind us, practicing breathing.

I’ve slept in a lot. Dealt with the throes of morning sickness in my own bathroom before curling up in bed again. Assumed a uniform of terry cloth shorts, loose tees, and no make-up except for the rare conference call. Cleaned out every corner of the house, regularly making masked trips to the Goodwill. Our dog has forgotten we ever used to leave the house without him.

We stayed at home, not seeing anyone but each other. I was deeply grateful to have married someone I could enjoy being with 24 hours a day. The world slowly began to reopen in May. We cautiously saw a few friends and family, dared go inside our favorite coffee shop. And then watched the case count soar. Asked, now what?

It’s the end of July now, almost a month since we’ve seen anyone but each other. Learned that I’ll likely have to labor and meet my baby wearing a mask.

I worry things will get worse. That somehow my husband will be kept from her birth. Or I’ll get sick? Either sooner and somehow harm her, or later and not be able to care for her. Will it be safe for her grandparents to see her? Will we have a newborn and be entirely alone?

When this is all behind us has stretched from surely May… later this summer… by the time the baby is here… sometime next year? What ifs and whens swirl. Each day fades in and out, more or less the same, save my growing belly.

This will be my first child. I don’t know who she will be or what challenges she’ll face. The pandemic informs some of this uncertainty, but not all of it.

I’m comforted knowing that the time spent expecting a baby creates space to come to terms with the unexpected. As much as I’ve worried about how the Coronavirus might impact this pregnancy, it’s not been my only fear. Will I carry the baby to term? Will she be healthy? Will I be a good mother? How will this change my life?

I can provide my child with love and encouragement. I can’t keep her from experiencing pain. I can work to provide every opportunity for her to learn and thrive. I can’t guarantee what her innate abilities will be. I can model perseverance and hope. I can’t prevent the obstacles she’ll face. I can wash my hands and wear a mask and keep the world at a distance. I can’t always keep her from getting sick. I can love and accept the unique individual that I took part in creating, but ultimately the life she creates will be her own.

Is being a parent not a daily practice in learning what you can and cannot control? I certainly have reckoned with forces beyond my control throughout my life. Somehow I seem to have come out unscathed. I know others haven’t been so lucky. I’ve been blessed with a buoyancy that, above all, finds hope. It seems clear now the only choice is to just keep moving forward into the unknown.