These are the days of uncertain times. Like a work of fiction, something out of a horror novel, we face a global pandemic with the number of cases doubling every 4-5 days. The virus is said to be respiratory, reminiscent of a really bad flu case. But it spreads so fast that this has become a crisis across the world as we pray our medical facilities have enough space and supplies for the influx of people, pray that our older relatives and immunocompromised friends stay safe. Countries like Italy are on lockdown. Cities like San Francisco require a shelter in place. And my own state has ordered all non-essential businesses close for the next 30 days, starting after St. Patrick's Day (so, as of yesterday).
As if that wasn't nerve-wracking enough, 9 months ago my husband and I threw a curveball into our own regularly scheduled lives and decided to expand this family with a brand new, precious little life. My baby is now at an age where he's becoming more child-like than infant-like by the day: more sturdy, more daring (uh oh), and even more interactive. He eats purees and veggie puffs in between his milk. He explores on all fours (sometimes rising up to two legs!) and makes messes. He plays and claps and climbs, and it's the most fun thing to get to spend time with him. But raising a baby during a global pandemic is the last thing I ever expected to do. I was only prepared to have sleepless nights. Prepared to watch him grow up way too fast as everyone says. Prepared to never stop worrying and never stop loving. I never imagined I'd have to be prepared for something like this.
So we move forward (metaphorically, not physically) with that love instead, and hold onto hope and community (from a distance) during these surreal experiences and strange new times.
The good news for my family is that I'm in a position to handle a lot of the unexpected changes this pandemic has brought--and I recognize my privilege and blessings I have that many others do not (some are losing jobs, some are losing loved ones, so I will continue to support others where I can).
First, as an introvert, I'm comfortable staying home for long periods and socializing almost entirely online. I already survived 3 months of maternity leave where I barely left the house--just a couple doctor appointments and a drive here or there to get coffee. I know extroverts who would have found a way to pack up Baby and head out every week for their own sanity. They get cabin fever quickly if unable to interact with other people or attend events, and I feel for them. But if I have a good story to follow (book, TV show, video game, Facebook post, or even ideas in my own head), I can be occupied for hours. I already communicate with friends 90% through texting and Facebook, and it feels like some of them living far away never really left. But don't think introverts don't love people or even want to be completely alone. We just tend to prefer our quiet places of comfort to louder gatherings. We thrive in smaller groups (so we've got this social distancing thing down). And, to be honest, introverts don't have a lot of advantages in a largely extroverted society. Bosses tend to pick the confident "people person" shaking everyone's hands with vigor over the quiet intellectual who has trouble putting thoughts into words even if they wrote a stellar resume. We introverts have been greeting each other with shy waves and geeky Vulcan hand salutes all along. This is our time to shine.
Second, on a more serious note, I'm lucky to have lots of family nearby. We were already blessed to have parents who could babysit while my husband and I went back to work after maternity leave was over. Our families continue to help us now with supplies we couldn't get, ideas and advice we hadn't thought of, and all the love and support we could ever need. I know when I look back on these times I will think of how strong they all are and how we helped each other get through scary moments with the bonds between mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, and more.
Third, my job as an online librarian means not much had to change when our college moved classes completely online. It's easy to work from home when you were already working 90% at a distance.
Which is where the idea for this new blog came about. I've considered myself a writer since I was crafting my own silly stories at four years old, and I now try to work on children's novels (you know, before life became this whirlwind with an actual child) and I'm hoping to publish perhaps when this is all over. I'm sure we all have goals we plan to accomplish when the world returns to normal, recognizing the things we might have once taken for granted. Of course, it's hard to mentally make time for novels when there's a crisis surrounding you, and it's hard to physically sit down to write a long work of fiction when you still have a baby to take care of. But on the first day of my "new" job working from home I thought, "This is an experience unlike any other. I should be writing this down."
While friends with older kids document the ideas and activities that come out of having everyone home from school and work together, I decided I wanted to document too. In my own way, as a writer. In the brief(er) nature of a blog instead of a book since that's the medium I can access right now, stealing a few moments while my son naps to jot down and remember what life was like now. Life at a distance. Life with Baby, working from home. Life where so much of the world is shut down. Balancing it all. Living it all. Loving through it all.
So my next post will be my experiences and thoughts of the first week. Until then, I'm remotely yours....
--Stephanie
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