My pandemic pregnancy…bump on lockdown (part 1).
1
Well, where do I start where every other blogger hasn’t already begun?
Just over two weeks ago, it was on the horizon that chaos was coming. I’d grabbed a couple of Carex anti-bac handwashes and a four pack of loo rolls, feeling like a bit of a tit for buying into the hysteria. But then I had brushed it off and met a friend for lunch in a bustling café – remember when we were allowed to do that? We talked about how it was all just sensationalized and that things would be fine. (ha!) I brushed my teeth that night looking at my little stock of
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handwash and loo roll thinking ‘you’re an idiot Louise.’
The next day, my mum, stepdad and brother came to visit. That night, we sat down after tea to watch Boris drop his bomb on us. that Covid-19 was very much here, and not to be trifled with. The vulnerable listed as the elderly, those with long term underlying health conditions, and those who are pregnant. Jackpot. As I sat there clutching my bump in fear, I tried not to cry as my mum and stepdad (who own a small restaurant) also had it dawn on them that shit was really about to hit the fan.
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My husband works in international recruitment and had a very stern look on his face, as he realised he was now working from home with job insecurity. Eva was about to increase nursery sessions so I could take more time to rest and prepare for the baby. My brother had interviews lined up to start a new career in hospitality which was now on hold. Everyone in that room was scared and shaken. I will never forget that feeling – it will be one of those ‘where were you when….’ situations for me where you remember every detail. Feeling like the world is
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instantly unfamiliar and scary. My anxiety across that first week was unbelievable and I’m sure I’m in very good company when I say that.
Mum stayed on for a couple of days after that. She spent a lot of time panic calling accountants and banks and deciding what the fuck to actually do now that the nation had been told to stay away from restaurants. I spent it feeling like I was getting repeatedly slapped round the face, with childcare and other safety nets slipping away at a time where I needed them to actually increase as I become more pregnant
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and less able to juggle life. The tears came full on when I got a text from the Rainbow clinic saying that antenatal scans were ideally to be attended alone. If anyone knows my story, they will know that I hate scans because of what they represent for me – loss. To even be going through pregnancy again after loss is fucking hard. To sit outside that room again with your heart in the hands of the universe (which has a history of shitting on you from a great height when it comes to these things) is tricky to say the least. But to be told you have to go
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it alone. Fuck me.
My next scan, with Eva now out of nursery, had to be in the form of me going in solo, with Adam and Eva sat in the car outside . The appointment thankfully went ok, and our consultant called Adam from her desk phone to give him the low down. When I got back to the car, there were snack wrappers everywhere, Eva’s face was bright red and her hair feral. Adam looked traumatised. I don’t actually know who had the more difficult hour. As I write this, I have no idea what the hospital rules will be for birth, but right now it is one
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birth partner and no visitors on the post natal ward. Aces….
It was quickly established between me and Adam that co-existing in the house whilst he tried to work and we tried to live was not going to be easy. So I did what I do best to calm my anxiety in any situation. I wrote a list.
(continued in next blog)
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Louise ODonnell - 1 Apr 20
Well, where do I start where every other blogger hasn’t already begun?
Just over two weeks ago, it was on the horizon that chaos was coming. I’d grabbed a couple of Carex anti-bac handwashes and a four pack of loo rolls, feeling like a bit of a tit for buying into the hysteria. But then I had brushed it off and met a friend for lunch in a bustling café – remember when we were allowed to do that? We talked about how it was all just sensationalized and that things would be fine. (ha!) I brushed my teeth that night looking at my little stock of handwash and loo roll thinking ‘you’re an idiot Louise.’
The next day, my mum, stepdad and brother came to visit. That night, we sat down after tea to watch Boris drop his bomb on us. that Covid-19 was very much here, and not to be trifled with. The vulnerable listed as the elderly, those with long term underlying health conditions, and those who are pregnant. Jackpot. As I sat there clutching my bump in fear, I tried not to cry as my mum and stepdad (who own a small restaurant) also had it dawn on them that shit was really about to hit the fan. My husband works in international recruitment and had a very stern look on his face, as he realised he was now working from home with job insecurity. Eva was about to increase nursery sessions so I could take more time to rest and prepare for the baby. My brother had interviews lined up to start a new career in hospitality which was now on hold. Everyone in that room was scared and shaken. I will never forget that feeling – it will be one of those ‘where were you when….’ situations for me where you remember every detail. Feeling like the world is instantly unfamiliar and scary. My anxiety across that first week was unbelievable and I’m sure I’m in very good company when I say that.
Mum stayed on for a couple of days after that. She spent a lot of time panic calling accountants and banks and deciding what the fuck to actually do now that the nation had been told to stay away from restaurants. I spent it feeling like I was getting repeatedly slapped round the face, with childcare and other safety nets slipping away at a time where I needed them to actually increase as I become more pregnant and less able to juggle life. The tears came full on when I got a text from the Rainbow clinic saying that antenatal scans were ideally to be attended alone. If anyone knows my story, they will know that I hate scans because of what they represent for me – loss. To even be going through pregnancy again after loss is fucking hard. To sit outside that room again with your heart in the hands of the universe (which has a history of shitting on you from a great height when it comes to these things) is tricky to say the least. But to be told you have to go it alone. Fuck me.
My next scan, with Eva now out of nursery, had to be in the form of me going in solo, with Adam and Eva sat in the car outside . The appointment thankfully went ok, and our consultant called Adam from her desk phone to give him the low down. When I got back to the car, there were snack wrappers everywhere, Eva’s face was bright red and her hair feral. Adam looked traumatised. I don’t actually know who had the more difficult hour. As I write this, I have no idea what the hospital rules will be for birth, but right now it is one birth partner and no visitors on the post natal ward. Aces….
It was quickly established between me and Adam that co-existing in the house whilst he tried to work and we tried to live was not going to be easy. So I did what I do best to calm my anxiety in any situation. I wrote a list.
(continued in next blog)
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Hi I'm Louise! Check out my blog posts and my Insta @loss_motherhood_etc for more musings on life after baby loss, maternal mental health and prematurity. I love to post about honest motherhood having gone through the toughest intro to it imaginable in the hope I can help others realise it wasnt just them when the fairytale went tits up! Thank you for joining me and for reading!
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