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Born in Lockdown: A Pandemic Baby - Part 1

Needless to say, Steve and I didn’t expect to have a baby at the onset of a global pandemic. I imagined months of Max crawling around circles of my closest friends. Of nights where he slept through the noise while we partied in the basement below. Of day trips and adventures to places and other people’s houses. Playdates with other moms & babies. 

The pandemic took away a lot of things that make life really enjoyable. Being around friends, sharing meals, being in crowds of strangers, feeling a sense of community at a local park, farmers’ market, or art museum. 


For me, it was very challenging that the beginning of the pandemic - when we knew very little about covid - coincided with the beginning of becoming a Mom - when I knew very little about babies!


Note - I took inspiration for the title of this post from collaborative writing project, Born In Lockdown, a collection of experiences from over 200 women who became mothers in 2020.


Baby Moon


Before Max was born, I had read something that suggested taking the first week or two to just be with your partner and baby - no relatives visiting. The idea is that newborns are hard and tiring, and this gives you a lot of time and space to bond as a new family. I thought it was a great idea. 


At the time, my nieces had been around a lot, and boy were they loud and chaotic! Also one of them seemed to have a perpetual cold (and ear infection, bless her!) so I wasn’t sure having her around the newborn would be so great. 


When Steve and I checked in, I boldly announced that I didn’t want my sisters or nieces to visit for the first two weeks. 


“We should just have time to be alone with the baby, and be relaxed” I said, proud of myself for thinking ahead, imagining blissful days of smiling curled up on the sofa next to Steve while the baby slept in my arms.


“OK, but are you sure that’s what you really want?” Steve questioned, thinking I had gone mad, but knowing better than to argue with a heavily pregnant woman.


“I’m sure,” I insisted.


Fast forward to the World Health Organization officially declaring the Covid-19 pandemic (Mar 11) and the UK going into lockdown, 5 days after Max was born (Mar 23). 


Fast forward to sleepless nights, aches and pains from a major operation, breastfeeding struggles that left me feeling like a failure, a baby who lost too much weight and wasn’t gaining it back quickly enough. Curled up on the sofa crying into Steve’s arms while the baby slept in his bassinet nearby.


I just wanted my sisters around. But now, I couldn’t have that. Our families remained separated to protect my parents and Max from Covid-19. We didn’t know enough about it. If I knew then what I know now, I would have seen how low risk my family was and perhaps would have welcomed them in, or at least had more outside hangouts.


When Max was 3 days old, my sister Izy came to see him through the conservatory doors in the back. I held him at the glass for her and my nieces, Chloe and Emma, to look at. She shed a few proud aunty tears. They “ahhed” and “cooed” at him.


First Meeting


Suddenly, I felt very hot. Maybe it was the sun beating through the windows, maybe it was the post-birth hormones rushing around my body. The moment of joy I'd experienced as my nieces delighted in the tiny baby was replaced by breathlessness, heat rising in my face, throat closing up, holding back tears. I was devastated that Izy couldn’t come in and hold him. That she couldn’t hold me! That’s what I needed so badly, a hug from my sister. I passed the baby to Steve and walked away, bursting into tears. 


I hadn't expected it to be so hard. I'm used to living 6,000 miles away! I go through a lot without them close by. But this was different. We chose to come to England to be close to my family when we had Max. Covid had taken that away. I hadn't realized how much it would hurt to be separated by a window, and later by 6ft and masks.


Kisses through glass

When Izy and her girls left I cried as Steve hugged me. He laughed, playfully reminding me this is what I said I wanted. “Well, I was wrong!” I conceded.


I am sad that we'll never get that time back. When Max was 2 and a half months old we moved back to the USA. My sisters haven't seen him since. Only in photos, videos, and via WhatsApp video calls. I hope we can be reunited soon so they can spend time with him and enjoy it as much as I do!



Outside, masked visit with Aunty Sally


The pandemic took my choice away. It took away the option to open up and let my family in. It also introduced a new type of fear. While I was already having nightmares about the baby dying, and generally struggling with motherhood, the pandemic layered on fear of people. Fear of this airborne disease that could be caught by merely breathing around another human being! 


This was the time when we would wipe down all our groceries. Steve would do the grocery shopping as much as possible to limit the time my mom or dad was in public. I remember a few times when he went grocery shopping, I spent the whole time worried about him. Physically feeling unwell.


Steve wasn’t even allowed in the building for our postpartum health visits. I had to go in alone with Max and call Steve on speakerphone so he could hear what the midwife said. This seemed silly since we spent all our time together, if he’s a risk then so am I. But it does make sense if you think about more viral load = greater risk. 


Since then, I’ve heard stories of women who had to endure most of labor alone in hospitals without their partners. Or partners who have been told to leave the hospital mere hours after the birth of their child. The day after we left hospital, Steve had heard that they reduced visiting hours from 9am-9pm down to 2pm-6pm. I would have been so miserable if Steve hadn’t been with me all that time in the hospital! Many families had a start that was more challenging than ours.


Steve and I were drained in those first few weeks. We developed colds. We both had coughs. Whenever Steve is run-down the first symptom he gets is a cough (it’s very annoying when I’m trying to sleep!!). We couldn’t help worry, do we have Covid? There was no testing available. We never had fevers. And ultimately, while my parents did get our cold germs, if it had been covid, I’m sure it would have been much worse for all of us. 


Black Lives Matter


When I reflect on the impact of the pandemic on my experience as a new mom, how it brought a lot of stress and challenge, I also think about the other things happening in 2020 that brought additional emotional stress. The murders of unarmed black people by police, and the coverage of the protests and demonstrations that followed, left me disheartened and wondering if we could ever live in an equitable and just society. 


George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. Say their names. In fact, I ask you to visit this webpage by Renee Ater who has listed all unarmed black people killed by police since 1968. Updated recently after the murder of 20-year-old Duante Wright by a Minnesota police officer on April 11, 2021.


A few days ago, former police-officer Derek Chauvin was found guilty of the murder of George Floyd. He knelt on Mr. Floyd's neck for nearly 10 minutes, ignoring pleas for help, ignoring the concerned bystanders. This is the first time a white officer has been found guilty of the murder of an unarmed black man. An historic step in the right direction of accountability and justice.


Even before I finish posting this, another person has lost their life due to excessive Police violence. Ma'Khia Bryant, a 16-year old black girl, was shot by a police officer in Ohio who was responding to a call she made asking for protection from some older girls.


True justice is when police stop killing black people.


As a white person living in America, I do not know this fear. I have not experienced the type of interpersonal and systemic racism people of color face every day. That type of injustice, of state sanctioned violence, does not directly threaten me, nor my child. That is my white privilege. 


However, it threatens people I love and care about, and it threatens the type of world I want to live in. I can only imagine the stress and pressure the events of 2020, and all years prior, and let’s be honest every month since, has put on black people, and especially black mothers. So, while I say it was distressing, I say it with full acknowledgement that it was so much harder for others. 


I’m a white mom blogger, our voices are heard a plenty. I thought I’d share a couple of blogs from black and brown moms: 

  • Mater Mea is a blog and community for and by black moms. Amber Perry Rainey’s blog post following the murder of George Floyd is a very touching account of her fear, and a powerful call to action for other moms: “Make being an anti-racist mama and raising anti-racist children your priority.”

  • Two Chocolate Faces a blog about all things parenthood by Kayla Eubanks, raising her adorable little twin boys. She writes candidly about her fears as a mother of black boys: "The twins like to sleep in my bed and I let them. Before, it was just because it was easier to let them stay than fight through the wailing and whining that comes with making them sleep in their own beds. Now, I keep them in the bed with me at night because it feels like all I can do. Maybe if I hold them close all night and keep them within arm’s reach all day, they’ll be okay."

  • My Brown Baby was launched by Denene Milner as a space “for African American moms looking to lend their critical but all-too-often ignored voices to the national parenting debate.”

  • Adding my friend Lynly's blog growing-bb.com. She does not identify as black, but she's a rad mom, a daughter of immigrants, she has a super cute baby Lulu, and she has a great blog worth reading!


I felt helpless. That question of what can I do about this while I’m sat breastfeeding every 3 hours?  The answer - acknowledge, learn, donate, support, invest. I did what I could while caring for Max. I donated to grassroots campaigns, I reached out to people I care about to show solidarity, empathy, support. I read as much as I could and I spoke up when people complained about the “violence” and “property damage” resulting from protests. I spoke up when people questioned the character of George Floyd or Breonna Taylor. I share all this to say to my white readers, there’s always something we can do, no matter how big or small. Black Lives Matter.


Art by TaylorAlexaArt

In some ways, having a newborn helped during the spring/summer of 2020, because I just could not spend time in existential dread. I had to keep the tiny child alive and happy. Once Max was born, I reduced my news consumption completely. I had to limit how much I engaged in the news of the Black Lives Matter protests, in the coverage of Covid-19, because all it did was break my heart and make me more depressed. For the sake of Max, I had to focus on the here and now. Every moment with him.


I don’t have all the answers, but here are some resources if you want to learn more about racism in America: 
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