This Is the Worst Time to Be Giving Birth
By: Shafiqah Othman
Tags: Life, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Women, Coronavirus

Last year in September, my husband and I celebrated my pregnancy by an infinity pool at a resort nestled in the base of Mount Santubong, Sarawak, Malaysia. I can never forget how tranquil it felt to be there. Enjoying the ocean breeze amongst the lush green, hand-in-hand with the love of my life.

“Next year will be our year,” my husband told me.

Then 2020 came and it brought a surprise for everyone. The new strain of coronavirus started hitting the news. One by one, people got infected. I received a text from my mum while I was at work saying two people from our neighbourhood have tested positive. A week later, someone working close to my office got it, too.

The numbers started rising, and finally, the government issued a Movement Control Order nationwide.

Photo by Martin Sanchez on Unsplash

The world hasn’t always been kind, especially not now. But every night my husband kisses my belly and whispers “I can’t wait to meet you”, and I think to myself, it’s okay, at least we have this happy moment amid all the chaos.

I imagined my husband and I being in love once again, looking at the little girl that will be cradled in my arms. Maybe even surrounded by a small group of loved ones. So many of us looked forward to the day.

Now, I’m 37 weeks pregnant at the peak of a global pandemic. The government just extended the Movement Control Order for another 2 weeks. My husband is no longer allowed to accompany me during my weekly checkups. I now listen to our baby’s heartbeat, alone, with the doctor, with no husband to stare lovingly at the ultrasound scan.

After my checkups, I watch as newborn babies and their mums are ushered to the lobby, waiting for their families to pick them up.

Photo by Luma Pimentel on Unsplash

At this time, husbands are not allowed in the delivery room. Neither are they allowed to accompany mothers in the maternity ward. Families aren’t allowed to come and visit. Visitors can give gifts, but these will be passed to you by hospital staff.

Like it’s not enough that the idea of being in a hospital makes me anxious, in a few weeks, I will be going through labour. Alone. No ceremonious welcome for my baby by my family and friends. Only a silent arrival into dystopia as her cries echo in the delivery room.

My husband won’t be there to tell me I did a good job, to kiss my forehead and hold my hand. It will only be my baby, the doctor, nurses, and me. Just the thought of it is filling me with anxiety and panic.

I have been given all sorts of advice throughout my pregnancy, but none of them prepared me for a pandemic.

Photo by Aditya Romansa on Unsplash

Some days, the anxiety can be tougher to handle. But then I feel the little kicks and punches and I smile. If I got through 9 months, I can get through this final lap, no matter how difficult it may be.

To all the mummies out there, we are in this together. I know you’re struggling with uncertainty just as much as I am, but I am confident that you and your baby will make it through this. We are strong, and we are brave, and we will get out of this situation being the best mothers that we can be.