I was so excited about maternity leave. It was going to consist of non-stop baby cuddles. Followed by countless visits from friends and family, and as much basketball as humanly possible. Maize was going to visit the mall and become an honorary mall walker. When the mall got boring, then we’d be off to the gym to help mommy start getting her body back. Of course, there would be hard sleepless nights, but the days I got to show my new beautiful baby girl, the world would be worth it.
But as y’all know, that’s not how it is going. March madness-canceled, baseball-postponed, the Olympics-cancelled. Malls-closed, gyms-closed, visitors-forbidden. Everything I pictured changed. Now I recognize I sound like a whiny bitch, trust me I get it. I’ve written and deleted this post so many times I’ve lost count. I just have so many feelings I can’t even process them.
- Thankful – for health, for uninterrupted time with Maize, for a home to shelter us and food to nourish us. For Shaine, his support, and his ability to still provide an income for us. Thankful for the advances in technology, which is making this social distancing slightly more tolerable.
- Guilt – because I’m sad and lonely even though I am holding my beautiful baby girl I longed for. Guilt because I am not at the hospital on the frontlines with all my co-workers. Guilt for even thinking about going back to work when I was given twelve precious weeks to stay home and love on Maize.
- Anger – because so many things are out of my control. Anger that I keep having to fill out postpartum surveys to screen for postpartum depression, only to be told in the same sentence that it’s essential to ask for help, to accept help, but I can’t do either. Anger that I’ve preached how it takes a village to raise a child, but we are being forced to do this alone, out of respect for health. Anger that my circle, the community, are missing out on meeting my beautiful little girl. Anger that my job search has been put on hold due to all hiring coming to a halt because of COVID. Anger that there is no finish line, no end in sight.
- Sadness – that I feel any of these emotions. Sadness that my friends, family, and coworkers are getting dressed each day and making sacrifices to help in interest of the greater good, yet here I am feeling sorry for myself
- Loneliness- needs little explanation. I thrive off social interactions, adult conversations, staying busy, and all of those things are non-existential. The dread of Shaine going to work early in the morning just to return late at night. Maize is many things, but a good conversationalist is not one.
- Grateful- for what I do have even when all the negatives cloud it. For the job, I have waiting for me that provides a good income, good friends, and mediocre benefits ;).
Take all that and then add in hormones, fear, sleep deprivation is a recipe for disaster. Today I went for my postpartum appointment, and I, for the first time, had to admit that I have some postpartum depression. Saying those words out loud made me cry. I always thought postpartum depression was when you wanted to hurt yourself or shake your baby, I am neither of those, actually the farthest thing from them. I honestly have everything I’ve ever wanted, yet here I am, sad and lonely. I attribute most of it is related to COVID and the lack of human interaction and social isolation, but it doesn’t change how I feel. The crazy part is I doubt I’m alone in this. Most of you reading this can probably relate to me in so many ways, even if you didn’t just have a baby.
The hardest part for me is knowing there is no end in sight. I have no idea when Maize gets to see her grandparents again. If we have to cancel our Memorial Day trip, we’ve been looking forward to it for almost six months. Will trips to the lake be possible this year? Or is this our new normal? Will I ever be able to turn on my TV, or scroll social media when every other post isn’t about COVID-19? There are so many frustrations, questions, and fear.
No one has answers. Does this suck, abso-fucking-lutely! Are we allowed to have bad days? Is it ok to cry, to get angry, to moron the loss of friends, family, trips, other important celebrations? Dear God, I hope so. Every day, almost every hour, my emotions change. I’m continually battling myself on whether I stay put and sacrificing my mental health or do I risk my physical health in hopes of boosting my mood, like my emotions that answer changes every single day.
What I do know is I hope I (we) can look back in three months, a year or five years, and be proud of what we accomplished. That we were able to suffer through one of the hardest times, in doing so we were able to keep ourselves, children, parents, neighbors, friends, co-workers, and community safe. I hope we can appreciate the little things we took for granted, and we can remember the extra effort we put in to connect as people.
And lastly, I hope this shit ends soon because I miss the world and all its beauty.
