The Upending Consequence of Change
By: Mindy Morgan Avitia
Tags: Family, Parenting, Prompt, Motherhood, Covid 19

The Upending Consequence of Change

Becoming New Parents in 2020

Photo by Seth Reese on Unsplash

Like much of the world, I didn’t know that March 2020 was going to be the month my life changed forever. I was roughly 12 weeks pregnant and I was convinced that the pivotal moment of my life would be in September when our daughter was due to make her entrance into the world.

Like much of the world. I was wrong.

The beginning of March was normal, like any other March in Austin, Texas. At work, we were preparing for our most successful SXSW to date, we were steadily increasing our revenue from years of negative books, and we were growing and becoming more united as a team. It felt good.

At home, my husband would work long hours at his office as an IT service provider for clients all around Texas. He’d be out to different offices throughout the day, and when he came home we would hurriedly decide what we wanted to do for dinner. More often than not it included getting out of the house for a happy hour somewhere.

Life felt normal, it felt as if it was going as planned. Surely the news was blowing this COVID-19 situation out of proportion. We had a Costco supply of toilet paper, we were fine.

And as it goes, things started to change.

SXSW was canceled?! We’ll be working from home for the next two weeks? Everything nonessential will close?! Wait…what’s considered essential?

Life was confusing and the last two weeks of March felt like a year. And like the amazing humans we are, our society started to adapt, albeit begrudgingly. For my husband and I, our adaptation consisted of exponential phases of acceptance.

Phase 1: The Quarantine Honeymoon

The Quarantine Honeymoon was fun. My husband and I now realized we had so much time to do things around the house we’d always wanted. Canceled plans and trips? No problem, we can reschedule those, but making our backyard an oasis? Now we had time for that before our daughter was born.

And much to our surprise, Home Depot was considered essential, and they adapted fast with Curbside Pickup, so no long lines in the Texas sun while pregnant was considered a win for me. The world looked different, and we were making lemonade out of all these lemons.

And with Curbside Groceries came weekly meal planning. Something my husband and I only dreamed of doing in the past, we even almost started a cooking show since we both love to cook: “Quarantine Cooking,” we thought ourselves clever.

And as time pressed on, my job laid off its first employee, then cut our salaries, my husband was losing clients, and the world was getting darker by the day. My belly was slowly getting bigger as our daughter was growing inside me; and sadness washed over me as I realized much of our family and friends wouldn’t experience my pregnancy in-person.

The Quarantine Honeymoon was over.

Phase 2: Redefining Hope

I sat in sadness for a while, canceled trips to see family were no longer postponed until the Summer, they were postponed indefinitely. My pregnancy was not indefinite, it was not something that could be postponed. I was overwhelmed, lonely, and angry.

I took much of that anger out at work, being in marketing I was frequently asked for innovative ways to increase our lead generation for our event space. I was pregnant in a pandemic with uncertainty everywhere and the question infuriated me, people were simply not booking events.

“I don’t know!” I wanted to scream.

But I had to be hopeful and innovative. I had to contribute to keeping the company in business because it was my livelihood too. Maternity leave started to look like the light at the end of the tunnel instead of bonding time with my daughter.

In Spring hope meant postponing life until the Summer. But Summer came and life didn’t resume as we’d hoped. Baby showers turned virtual. Zoom fatigue set across the world. Excitement for virtual gatherings was no longer felt.

And our hope started to look different, we were no longer hoping for a return to normal life. We were hoping for connection, in-person, with hugs, without masks, and laughter to fill our homes and hearts. We were hoping for safety.

Phase 3: Gratitude in Crisis

Nearly 9 months into the pandemic, my life has changed not only temporarily, but likely forever. No, I don’t think I’ll continue to Clorox Wipe my groceries forever, but I may have thoughtful weekly meal plans for the foreseeable future.

My daughter was born in September 2020, and it was life-changing as any first-born child is to new parents. Her gum-filled smiles and soft skin melt my heart every day and remind me that there is still so much joy to be had in this world. She reminds me that 2020 was not a monolith of sadness and sickness.

Through the crisis, I’m learning how to redefine value and worth. Before March 2020, I didn’t question whether or not I’d return to a full-time job. I didn’t blink at the thought of putting my 3-month old daughter in childcare. Now, the thought seems terrifying.

I don’t know how much the birth of our daughter would have changed me had the pandemic not happened. And I’ll never know that. The coronavirus shattered our plans in every way plans can be shattered. We’re learning to navigate through the joy and the sorrow.

Now, a short walk in the park with my daughter and husband feels so vividly important and special. As the cool Fall air dances across our faces, we’re reminded that these small, ordinary moments are the building blocks to our extraordinary life together. And for that, I’m grateful.