Pandemic Pregnancy (Another COVID Mini Essay)

I know I usually save my blog here for things more relevant to writing, but I thought I’d go a little bit off topic today.

I’m pregnant.

And it isn’t new. I’ve been pregnant for 8 months and I’m about to pop. This isn’t my first rodeo. It’s my fourth pregnancy and will be my second living child. But I think it goes without saying that things have been… well… different this time.

I didn’t really want to be pregnant during a pandemic. I just wanted to have a viable pregnancy. In fact, if my body was more cooperative, I would have had this baby before the pandemic started, but that’s a story for another time. So, yes this child was planned. This pregnancy started as more of an if (if we’re lucky, if it happens for real, if the baby decides to implant in my uterus), and thankfully is ending with a when.

I’m due in May. The exact surgery date is scheduled into my calendar. I literally have a countdown widget on my phone telling me how many days are left until I get to hold this kid in my arms. It’s been a wild ride. I have no regrets, but I definitely would not recommend a pandemic pregnancy to a friend. And even though sometimes I feel so alone in this journey, I know I’m not. There are lots of other pandemic preggos out there.

This is a shout out to all the other moms (and dads) having babies during this frustrating and confusing time. It is so hard. So much hard-er, I should say, because it was never easy. This is for every mom who has had to go to a doctor appointment alone. For every mom who has had to have her partner on video call during an ultrasound. For every mom who has had to skip a critical OB appointment because their COVID test results hadn’t come back yet. For every mom who wanted her doctor appointment to be in person, but had to settle for a video call. For every mom who had to be pregnant with COVID. For every mom who was denied treatment. For every mom who had to skip a real baby shower. For every mom who had to buy maternity clothes without being able to try them on. For every mom with a baby in their lungs struggling to wear their mask. For every mom risking getting the vaccine for the greater good, AND every mom holding off due to lack of prenatal research. For every mom who cried all night because they’ve never felt more alone in their life during a time supposed to be filled with joy.

I feel you all, because I am you.

May we all be able to hold our pandemic babies in the near future.

In the meantime, I’m really hoping the pandemic ends up being like pregnancy – something that feels like forever, but ends up just being a tiny part of our lives.