Closing the Chapter

Today marks the one year anniversary that this pandemic began for me. March 17, 2020 was my last "normal" day. My last day working in person for months--my work closed and lockdowns were announced that night. My last day visiting family for months--I picked up my son after work and didn't know when it would be safe to see my parents again. It was St. Patrick's Day then too, and my baby wore a green shirt that said "Mom's Lucky Charm." Boy was that ever true, as he's the biggest reason we were able to make it through this pandemic safe and sane. It's been a full year of anxiety and trauma for us all.

And now...we begin the healing process.

In some ways I was dreading today. It felt like the coming anniversary of the death of a loved one. It was the day the trauma started. A day we don't want to remember and also cannot ever forget. It's taken over a year to get close to a hope of an ending when we previously thought it might end in a few weeks. By April. By summer. And it didn't. And we lived day to day not knowing if an end was in sight.

We lost people. Over 500,000 lives. Friends. Colleagues. Our family almost lost a loved one. Her life may never be quite the same. And so it is not strange that we might mourn.

But it's also a day that shows our perseverance. How far we've come. How resilient we are. We lasted a year, adapting to online work and a masked, distant world.

And things are getting better. Case numbers and hospitalizations continue to go down. The number of vaccines distributed continues to go up. Our governor still has the state on a road to recovery plan that will safely restart our economy. We've been moving through each tier of people allowed to get the vaccine in our state.

After I got both doses of my vaccine, so did my husband. Then his parents. Then his aunt and sister. This month, my younger brother and my parents were able to get the vaccine. And just today, my older brother got his first dose. Just about everyone in our family bubble is at least partially protected, and on the road to full protection. Which means more protection for our son who's too young for the vaccine just yet. Which means more peace of mind that our loved ones will be safe in this world and we're one small step closer to getting back to a safer world.

The CDC even released new guidelines for vaccinated individuals. We can gather with fully vaccinated people even unmasked. And while the idea of interacting with people outside my family without a mask will take some getting used to, I'm just so excited that we can "gather" again! I can feel even safer when I visit my family. I'm a homebody, but I miss seeing friends! My husband and I celebrated with a pizza night, inviting two friends over who had been fully vaccinated and we just chatted together in our living room.

Life is not the same as before yet. Will it ever be? We don't quite know. Humans have survived pandemics before, and our numbers are trending in the right direction, so there is hope. For now, I know I'm not yet comfortable seeing a movie in public, as much as I want to. I'm not ready to take my son to an indoor gym and watch him climb and play and interact with kids his own age. I really want to give him those experiences, and hopefully with vaccinated children or transparent cleaning protocols this will be possible in the near future. This was the year we were going to go to Disneyland, and I'm not yet ready for that either. But maybe next year. For this year, perhaps a summer vacation--our first family vacation--to meet my husband's new baby cousin in San Diego and bring our son to the beach.

For now, I'll take Friday pizza nights with vaccinated friends and Sunday babysitting with family and an occasional outdoor restaurant and picking up coffee indoors without fear. I'll take going back to work in person full-time this fall, even though I'll miss my remote days, if it means I can be located 15 minutes away from my son instead of 40 minutes away. There's a lot of good happening every day and more good on the horizon. So it looks like I didn't need to dread today after all. The whole day felt pretty normal. And normal in the middle of a pandemic is wonderful.

The whole day permeated with a feeling of hope.

So I'll continue to hope that I won't have to report on this blog again, designed to document life in a pandemic. I hope that cases don't suddenly spike. That the vaccines work long term. That the virus mutations get under control. That we reach herd immunity.

I hope for continued health and happiness and positive change.

We have had positive moments in this roller coaster year. Despite the illness of family and the constant fear and isolation, my family member left the hospital alive, which is most important of all. But we also had special milestones. Major birthdays and anniversaries that we did get to spend with family. My little brother got engaged! I got to be home with my son every day, which was pure joy and something I'd always wanted--and didn't have to give up a career I loved to do it. We were blessed to be able to keep our jobs and be near our loved ones. I will never take that for granted.

But I am ready to close this chapter and begin a new one.

In the new normal, maybe we'll be similar to the old normal. Or maybe we'll still wear masks a lot during flu season. Maybe our generation will never completely feel comfortable at a large convention. Or maybe we'll use what we learned about telecommuting to offers more flexible work and childcare options. I know we'll continue to use digital technology to keep connected.

I don't plan to have a huge party for my son's second birthday in June. But I plan to celebrate with family, which is bigger than we had last year. I don't plan to go to a concert, but I do want to take that trip to San Diego. There will be baby steps on the way to new normal, but if I can just not live in fear every single day, that's good enough for me for now. I can't do everything I used to do in the old normal anyway--I gave up a lot of that when I decided to have a child.

And speaking of children...maybe we can finally start to plan another addition to our family.

Maybe we can think about the future again instead of staying stuck in the monotonous void that was 2020.

Maybe we can be bold, and strong, and share and hug again.

That's all I hope for.

We made it through one year. Thank you for making it through one year with me. I plan to be more in person now as time goes by, but I still remain faithfully, remotely yours,

--Stephanie

Light

Turns out the second dose of the vaccine was...actually not that bad.

Despite reports that side effects could be flu-like, and uncomfortable for a couple days, I got off pretty lucky after receiving my second Covid-19 vaccine (Pfizer) through my work on February 9. Did I get a fever? Well, the next morning I checked and was 100.8 degrees--but I didn't even feel the usual eye pain that typically comes with fevers for me. Did I get chills? I was certainly freezing that night (more so than usual), but layers of clothes and cuddling up to my husband helped me get through it. The most uncomfortable thing for me was really some slight muscle aches the next day that felt a little like restless leg syndrome, but it was gone by the end of the day. Oh, and I was a little tired. But that could also have been because my son was going through a sleep regression and kept waking up all night long. 

My colleagues' reactions were hit and miss. Some felt perfectly fine the next day. Others had aches and chills so badly they couldn't sleep and had to call out sick. Some got a fever but were still able to work. Every experience really is unique. But everyone I've heard from who got the vaccine don't regret it. Even with severe symptoms, they go away quickly. Instead of the darkness of Covid fears, there is light.

So mostly I've been feeling relief, and then getting nervous that if I let my guard down too much something will go wrong. The CDC does recommend continued mask wearing, social distancing, and other safety precautions even after you're vaccinated since we still don't know if vaccinated individuals can spread the disease. We just know we're unlikely to get severely ill from it.

Thus, so far, my life has only changed in small ways--though I can feel bigger, better changes on the horizon. Right before my husband's birthday, I dared to enter his favorite donut shop and pick out a dozen donuts since my usual delivery and curbside pickup locations don't have such delicious treats. I actually visited a friend who arrived in town from another state (though I still asked for an outdoor visit with masks). I might just make those eye doctor and dermatologist appointments I've been putting off for months.

After a year that's been traumatic for the entire world, it's nice to have just a little peace of mind. And there's added relief that my frontline worker husband was able to get both doses of the vaccine as well, thus doubly protecting our son. Hubby didn't even get a single side effect after the second shot--other than a sore arm--though that made him worry about whether or not he got the right dose! (It turns out both doses are the same).

The relief is important as I venture back to in person work again. Though still only two days a week, it's certainly been different going back to another building and seeing colleagues face-to-face again. In some ways it's a nice change, especially knowing I'm going back vaccinated now (though I still bring my own soap for the bathroom). In some ways it feels like I never left the last time. Our school still has few people on campus. Our building is pretty quiet. Occasionally we get questions about where vaccines are located since our campus offers vaccinations in another building. But I know the crowds will start to pick up soon with our governor's "road to recovery" plan to slowly reopen the state more and more. Businesses can now operate at 35% capacity instead of 25%, and will eventually get back to 50% and then 100% (with masks and social distancing still in place). By then we will hopefully have even less to worry about. Cases are already going down. You can feel the easing of tension in the air.

And as cool winter breezes turn to sunny spring days, I think this is what we all are needing.

Last weekend my husband's family--now vaccinated as well--offered to watch our son while we went on a date. There's still not a lot of places we can go or feel comfortable going, but we ordered takeout BBQ and had a little romantic picnic in our living room. Then I got my haircut for the first time in over a year. I felt lighter in more ways than one.

Before and after photos on February 21, 2021.
My last haircut before then was January 11, 2020!

The Return

"I don't know where we're headed,
but I'm ready!"

Life has not yet returned to "life as we knew it," but a lot has happened in the two and a half months since my last post. While the case and hospitalization numbers in our state have not been good, the governor did not issue another lockdown. He instead asked for a "statewide pause." The pause increased some restrictions, such as limiting many in-person businesses to 25% capacity instead of 50%, but ultimately not a lot has changed. My job has continued to be 100% remote since November. We visit our close family when we can. We order delivery and curbside pickup. We take our son for walks outside.

And yet, a lot has changed. In the world at large, a new mutation of the virus has emerged and is being described as even more contagious than the original, causing many to recommend "double masking" in public. Vaccine distribution has finally begun for healthcare and frontline workers, though the process is slow and often muddled. Vaccine shortages are common in many states, yet little by little new appointments appear on our local health district website.

Which brings me to the changes in my own little world. We faced a new Covid scare at the end of January when a family member came in contact with someone exposed to the virus. Another close family all got sick, though thankfully with only mild symptoms. And my family member was lucky in that he didn't catch or spread the virus to anyone else.

After that blessing and relief, I was suddenly given the opportunity to get the vaccine myself through my work! I never expected the opportunity so soon, but I understand why. My job is returning staff to work in order to reopen February 1. I'll be back in person with the same fall schedule I had of two days in person each week.

Which makes this my last official week of being a fully remote, work-from-home, stay-at-home mom. Again.

While I don't look forward to leaving my son again, the change doesn't feel quite as momentous this time. Probably because we've been through all this before, or because we've just been in the pandemic so long that all kinds of fatigue have set in. But I also think it's because I'm not quite as scared as last time. The vaccine gives some peace of mind with its 95% efficacy protection, and I'll have both doses by mid February.

My first shot was January 22 and my second will be February 9. I experienced no side effects from the first other than a slightly sore arm that day and an uncomfortably sore arm that evening as I tried to get comfy in bed. But after just one day of only slight discomfort, I was back to normal. We'll see how the next dose goes.

I plan to report my experiences with the transition back to work here, as well as any side effects of the second vaccine, and then the hopeful success of my husband's vaccine too--as a frontline worker, he was able to get his first dose yesterday!

I may continue to write small updates after that, but as the world starts on the path to reopening, to normality, I will no longer be "remotely" yours. My last major post will likely be in March, a full year after this pandemic began and I started documenting it. I'm glad I'll have this blog to look back on to remember the details of such a momentous time in our history, even if much of this experience is one we'd all probably like to forget.

Still, I can't deny the bond its brought me with my son. A true "mama's boy," he loves it when I hold him, read to him, dance with him, and make him laugh. Our adventures are only just beginning as I think about the possibilities that could finally happen this year. Once all my family is vaccinated, we could actually do something as normal as a trip to a store, or a playground, or a coffee shop.

And when I return to work next week, at least I'll have Starbucks lunch breaks to look forward to again, and "welcome back" hugs from my son at the end of the day.

Life as we know it is not the same, but we are returning to good things, little by little.

Quarantine 2.0?

"Just try and lock me down, I'll climb right up!"

I started writing a post I never finished about how pandemic life was making me tired. Like physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted from all the fear and restrictions and no end in sight. Even as an introverted homebody, I still miss going places. There's so much I want to be able to do from attend family gatherings to chat with friends to take my son to a playground or enroll him in a gymnastics class so he can have fun things to do and socialize with other babies. And I want to do it all without the intense anxiety that I can't help feeling--a very real worry that I could be putting my child or my family in danger.

So, I never finished that post, simply titled "Tired," because it sounded a little depressing and didn't accurately reflect how okay I was actually feeling lately. My Covid-effected family member, home from the hospital after months, was doing really well, and we were visiting regularly. My own family remained healthy so far thanks to their intense caution. And I was even getting out of the house a little to safely go to work two days a week and treat myself to drive-thru Starbucks on my lunch break. We spent a fun Halloween at home dressing Baby up in multiple costumes without the trick-or-treating part, and even ventured to a new restaurant porch for breakfast out of the house one weekend (the first restaurant I'd been to in weeks). I felt like, mentally, I could handle all this for now.

And then suddenly we had more relatives end up in the hospital with the virus. An entire family sick. Our state was getting worse. In fact, with cases and hospitalizations rising so drastically, our governor issued a voluntary "stay at home 2.0" order this week, urging citizens to remain at home whenever possible. And he stressed that if things didn't change in two weeks from voluntary measures, he might be forced to do something more drastic.

In response to the governor, my work has gone 100% remote again as of Friday, November 13. No two days in person anymore. No Starbucks on my lunch break but also no having to leave my son. Despite my growing cabin fever, I'm actually grateful for this stay-at-home order because it will keep us all safer. In theory. First people have to volunteer to stay home. And based on what I've seen online, not everyone is volunteering. We could be heading toward those drastic measures regardless--most likely another lockdown like we experienced in March.

Online news articles and Facebook moms groups warn me that people are already panic-buying again. Toilet paper and bottled water have become harder to find. While I'm usually a hopeful, optimistic person, I'm almost expecting the lockdown that everyone seems to be preparing for. And while I know that will keep us safer and curb the virus spread (as we saw happen last time), I still worry about the long-term impact on our economy. I worry how long my husband will keep being paid.

In the meantime, all I can do is find ways to pass the time outside the work-from-home workday. This week alone I've done video calls to family and book clubs. We've taken my son for walks around the neighborhood in his stroller to watch the cars drive by (but even that might change if a lockdown keeps more people off the road). I've tried to do more writing. I've definitely done more online shopping for myself and Christmas presents for others as I worry about what the holidays will bring. Families will want to gather even though this is the one year we really shouldn't.

The one bit of good news on the horizon, however, is that there is at last an end in sight. It will be months from now, but it's the first glimmer of hope we've had to look forward to in a long time. There's a vaccine that's proving 90% effective in preventing the virus. It's approval is going to be rushed because of the emergency situation we find ourselves in, which means months instead of years before it reaches the public. That's both good and bad as I worry about long-term side effects that haven't even been found yet too. But if it can end this terrifying, frustrating, heartbreaking chapter in our history, hopefully the vaccine's good ultimately outweighs the bad.

It will take time to make, deliver, and distribute the vaccine to our entire population. It will require a second dose a month later, and then herd immunity will have to grow. So we might not be able to obtain anything until closer to April. If we're lucky, maybe life will be a little more normal by the end of 2021. That's assuming everything stays on track and works out. My optimism dares to peek through again, telling me it has to work out. Reminding me that we've lasted this long.

I don't look forward to another lockdown as quarantine fatigue hits us all, but at least I know what to expect. I know the lives it will save and how it can set us on the right path so that everyone can survive a few more months too. My favorite quote of 2020 (aside from some amusing Nevada election memes) is a poignant one: "we isolate now so that when we gather again, no one is missing." That holds true just as much now as it did at the start of this situation. There's no quick and easy fix for a global pandemic, but we can do our part--overcome the tired feelings and push forward and carry on.

Back to Work (For Real)

Friday, August 21 marked my first official day back at work--at least, my first in-person day as I've certainly been getting a lot done working from home for five months. It was only for four hours and my son slept almost the entire time, so I don't know if even had time to miss me! We did, however, celebrate, by giving him his first haircut (at home, by me, after several YouTube videos). And it didn't turn out half bad.

The next week I returned to work for two days--eight hours on Thursday and four hours again on Friday. This was where I really felt the change. Eight hours was a full day without my son. And it was an evening shift, so I wouldn't even get to see him until after dinnertime. I worried about using a public restroom and about snacking without a mask as I grew more and more hungry with a late lunch. My lunch break in my car was in triple-digit heat, and my "treating myself" trip through Starbucks drive-thru didn't even help since I forgot to order my coffee iced.

Baby, however, had a great time with his grandparents and uncles entertaining him. While I packed frozen breast milk and a pillowcase that smelled like me into his activity bag in case he had trouble napping, it turns out he didn't need either of them and was able to fall asleep on his own. In fact, he fell asleep during my lunch break so I couldn't even video chat to check in. But the text updates from my mom assured me that all went well.

Work itself was different, but not that different. The campus I was on had always been more quiet than the rest, so we didn't see a lot of student traffic and I was able to get a lot of work done on my computer without a little one tracking me down (though I definitely missed that). Everyone wore masks and conversations with coworkers were behind plexiglass, but that at least made me feel safe enough to spend time chatting with someone besides my family. When the day was over, I had enough time to shower before uniting with my son, and that itself felt pretty good.

The next week went even better. I ordered iced coffee on my break this time and parked in the shade so my car wouldn't heat up as much. My Starbucks barista gave me a free cake pop as apology for not having chicken protein boxes for lunch. And I got to sit in the shade and listen to my favorite pop music as my husband texted me (Baby was asleep again). It almost reminded me of the "good old days" before the pandemic, when I could pick up coffee before work and drive in to a place outside the house to do work that I loved. I mean, that's basically what I was doing, except with a little more anxiety and a little less practice.

I still prefer the days I can work from home and be with my baby. A part of my heart hurts when I have to pack up his lunch, applesauce dessert, favorite books, and a familiar toy to help keep him occupied for a day without Mom or Dad. But I have to admit, after 5 months of going practically nowhere, having a day or two in person (safely) each week is also a nice change of pace. My coworkers are also super sweet and awesome, remembering my birthday and making sure I have everything I need while I'm there.

Speaking of my birthday, I did in fact celebrate a "quarantined" milestone of turning 34 during a pandemic. The morning was spent at my parents' house for breakfast, cake, and a couple of presents. For dinner, my husband picked up takeout from a Brazilian steakhouse. I got to take pictures of my family, and drink coffee, which was all I really wanted. But I also bought myself an early birthday gift--a Nespresso pod coffee maker so I can make my own lattes at home on days when I can't treat myself and need access to my coffee while working remote.

I don't know when I'll be back to work in person full-time, or if I'll ever even be able to go back to that kind of setup now in this new world and with my definite ability to work at a distant. But I'll continue to post when I can if things change. Either way, hopefully those changes will eventually be for the better. Until then I remain, remotely yours.

The Last Week

Tomorrow is my first day of in-person work since March 17. It's not a full week of work--in fact, it's just four hours on Friday. But boy it sure feels like a milestone.

On Facebook I'm getting memory reminder photos from one year ago when I posted my then 3-month-old, capturing and soaking up every moment with him before the dreaded end of my maternity leave. It sure feels a little like deja vu as this week marks the last week I'll have being with him 100% at home.

It's really not a bad schedule, all things considered. I don't for one moment take for granted how lucky I am for this. After tomorrow's trial run at work I'll be away 8 hours each Thursday and 4 hours each Friday and then work from home with my son the rest of the week to help spread out our staff for optimal social distancing and safety. But those 12 hours away will feel especially different now that my baby is a little bit older. We've bonded even more with all that time together, used to each other being around. My son has reached a stage where separation anxiety can kick in if he's being taken away from me when he's not ready. My parents watching him will have to find new ways to get him to nap now that he's no longer drinking milk from a bottle. I won't get to see his smiling face after an hour-long Friday meeting and squeeze in a quick cuddle before the next meeting I have to log into online. I won't get to help feed him his meatloaf and mashed potatoes on my lunch break. I'll be sitting in an environment where I could encounter strangers and have to hope I'm protected enough from getting the virus and bringing it home to him. It's strange, lonely, a little scary, and not at all like the usual back-to-school vibes that mid-August usually brings.

On the positive side, I'll get to meet my new coworker in person for the first time. I'll get to actually go out somewhere besides my parents' house. I'll have a tiny bit of alone time on my lunch break. It will feel a little more like "back to school" once I'm actually going back to my job at a school. Maybe I'll even get to notice the weather as it turns cooler (eventually) for the fall season since I barely notice the weather now (I'm 90% indoors).

And I guess it's a positive that I don't have a lot of set up to worry about. At work our administrators and supervisors have been preparing the in-person spaces and writing up new procedures with health and safety in mind. So there's really not much I need to do on my end to prepare, other than try to remember where I left my nametag in the office drawer, make sure my key still works, and mentally psych myself up for a major life change: 157 days since my last day of in-person work. That's 157 days where my baby and I haven't been apart.

I did prepare by making a photo keychain with his picture for my work badge and lanyard. My husband and I ordered pizza in honor of my last day working 100% online. And, like I did before going back to work last time, I put on my favorite Captain America dress and danced with my son to the classic 1940s song from Avengers: Endgame: "It's Been a Long, Long Time." It was the perfect dance to end my maternity leave as I celebrated the child I wanted and waited so long for. And it's the perfect anthem for this part of our lives as we wait and wait, and get through these long times together.

After tomorrow I'll get to spend all weekend with my son. Then Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I'll get to continue my remote work-from-home, stay-at-home mom status. Things won't be too different. Hopefully it won't be too hard.

But just because there's so much to look forward to and be thankful for doesn't mean I'm not going to lament leaving my son for the first time in 157 days--longer than my 12-week maternity leave. In fact, it's been almost twice as long as the 82 days I had between his birth and going back to work last year. I'm so very grateful for this time that many mothers don't get. I'm so very blessed to have been able to witness his first year milestones and to have been able to bond with my baby during a vulnerable time. And I get to be there for him while also getting to have him in my life. The child I've always wanted. The opportunity to try to balance work and family in a brand new way. I want this pandemic to be over but I hope this time together will ultimately leave a positive lasting effect on my son. Rather than marked by fear, I want his formative first years to be marked by the love of his mom and dad who adore him more than anything and got to really follow every moment as he grew from baby to real kid during this time.

So as I get ready to return to work, maybe I'm also just celebrating how far we've come.

Wish me luck.

Changes

I started yesterday's blog post a few days ago and never got the time to finish it until the evening of July 31. But by this week, things have actually already started changing. Don't worry--it's all good!

The first big change is that our loved one was transferred to a rehabilitation facility! That means she's actually recovered from illness but just has to work on re-learning how to walk, speak, feed herself, and similar daily tasks most people take for granted. It will be a long process to get back to who she was before the virus, but she is on a very positive path. Even better, she got to see many of her loved ones in person as they transferred her from her care facility to her rehab facility--they waited outside with masks and cheers as she was wheeled out hospital doors and started her new journey. We are all so thrilled!

The second big change is that I got a new boss at work--after finding out weeks ago that my current boss was moving up in position, our whole staff waited to see who would take her place as supervisor. Now we know, and we're thrilled for this too! It's not easy supervising a large staff remotely during a pandemic, so I absolutely admire her for taking on this role. I know she'll do well and I look forward to seeing what comes out of her leadership.

The third big change as we reach the end of July is that I received an updated return-to-work letter. Instead of going back to my job this month, I'm scheduled to return mid-August (as I was kind of suspecting, though it was never confirmed). We have been told these dates could change at a moment's notice, depending on what happens in our state with the virus. But among all the fear is that small hope that comes with something new, or rather, returning to something familiar. I'm not looking forward to going back to in-person places and risking my family's health. However, it's nice to have some sort of schedule and date in place to prepare for the future. I likely will still get to telecommute most of the week, with only two days of in-person working. Supposedly. We'll see what happens in the coming month, but I'm hopeful that everything will come together. My son is old enough where he can be without me for a few hours if needed--it will be hard since he's growing wonderfully attached to me, but it is doable as I've seen how social he can be with others once he's distracted away from Mommy. I'm definitely going to miss him during the day though. We haven't been apart since March! And I miss him even when I'm working from home and he's in the next room--until he climbs into my lap to take me away from my computer and I can snuggle him once more. He's already figured out how to reach and grab and do so much. Boy he's grown during this quarantine, work-from-home time!

Next month brings the change of another year older for me as well. My first birthday during the pandemic. Not that I was expecting this birthday to be a big celebration before the virus (34 isn't exactly a milestone, I'm not much of a party person, and I do have a baby to take care of). Still, I'm planning a small family day at home to keep my mind off reality and enjoy my special day with the special people I am able to be with. I even bought myself an early birthday present online: a mini espresso maker so I can make my own lattes at home every day before work! A new and easy way to get that coffee fix you know I need.

We'll see what the future brings, but I do know what I'm wishing for when I blow out any birthday candles--an end to coronavirus, and a bright future for my son!