Pandemaversary: One Year Later
March 2020, we all walked out of our doors without a mask never knowing that day would be our last to breath so freely and carelessly. Pandemic hits quickly and viciously, and here we are a year later and it feels as though we’re none the wiser, no? You’d think it’d be common sense/courtesy/just plain morality to do what you can to protect yourself and the community you’ve built around you; however, what we got to see was the truly ugly side of humanity and the very meaning of “every man for himself” play out for a year. So instead of getting worked up and in my head about how people are stupid and won’t wear masks, which a year later has transfigured into people not getting the vaccine (makes my blood actually boil) - I decided to reflect on the good things we learned and the good out of my own personal experience throughout this pandemic.
2020 is one of the most memorable years for me not because it was the year of the pandemic, but because it was the year I gave birth to my beautiful daughter. It’s really weird to think back on it all. We found out I was pregnant in September of 2019, flew back home to VA to tell family and friends that December - in person, just open mouth breathing all over the place, hugs every which way you could find them - and little did we know this virus was making it’s way across seas and shit was about. to. go. down. In the event world, you become a little more hypersensitive to things like illnesses and viruses going around because, well, you’re in the business of gathering mass amounts of people together and serving them food and drinks. So once we started hearing more and more about everything going on, sanitation and talks with caterers took a front seat to every event well before March. Therefore, I had a small inkling of how everything would change going into 2020 and dealing with this virus, but I had no idea just how bad it would get.
I remember the call like it was yesterday. My husband and I were in the chain of chains of someone who had been in contact with someone who had COVID. And being pregnant and aware of what I could possibly be carrying around to others - I called my work to let them know that I thought I should stay home for a couple of days to see how it all plays out. That following Monday, the world shut down. Which was the strangest shift for me work wise because not only were we scrambling with any and all contracts to see what had to be changed (force majeure coming in clutch), but we were also needing to learn all things virtual and what that means to the event world. It was a hard and fast switch, but I got to learn some new skills and my swelling pregnant self got to sit on my couch and work my last few days as a career woman in my sweats and no bra. I’d say not a bad trade off overall.
With no end in sight, the fun and exciting aspects of pregnancy started getting canceled one by one. No classes to prep us, no baby showers to celebrate, and no family able to fly out for the birth. Mix that in with no birthday celebration and having to reschedule our wedding, it was just “cancel, cancel, cancel”. I understand that people were dying and that this virus was turning out to be bigger than we could have ever imagined, but my feelings on my life being canceled never once negated what was going on in the world. I knew I was able to feel my feelings, even if they felt comparatively small. And I was really bummed about it all. These big moments that tend to be celebrated chapters of one’s life, just weren’t the same. There was a new normal that had to be adopted and I had to learn to find the blessing in disguise.
May finally comes as does baby Abigail. If there are any readers here that gave birth smack dab in the middle of the pandemic as well, just know that you’re a goddamn superhero. That’s right, I’ll go ahead and toot my horn AND my husband’s for that matter, while reflecting back on those first 6 months. It was complete survival mode wrapped up in these absolutely amazing moments covered with a blanket of sheer terror. No family for nearly 3,000 miles and we couldn’t see anyone nor go anywhere for the foreseeable future. I had to force myself to find the small wins in simple things like taking my dog for a walk and showing my daughter that the world was so much bigger than our small apartment. I’ve already seen some of the effects of my daughter not meeting any people aside from her father and I for the beginning of her life, but those are things I couldn’t control. What I could control was giving her my complete undivided attention every time we played. Having her in my arms constantly and filling her up with my love every second of each day. Binge watching basically all of Netflix while she slept in my arms for hours on end. And protecting her at all costs during a very scary time in the world.
Which leads me to the good you all were hoping for. This past year was scary, and unknown, and soooo divisive physically and mentally with differing opinions. But I promise if you look hard, you will find small wins and good moments that you would have missed out on otherwise. My husband and I got to witness, front and center, the beautiful raw reality of both of us shifting into parenthood. We got to get into our own routine without other’s input and give each other faith and support in our decisions early on. I was able to leave my house (and body) as dirty as I wanted to without worrying about someone popping by and seeing the horror. We were able to soak up literally every minute, every “was that a smile!?” moment, every little first - just us. We were able to have these great moments of both of us in the room just talking through life while rocking Abigail to sleep, again - just us. Our little family became our safe haven to do the unimaginable and stop time, turn off the bad, and reflect on the good. To see promise and hope. Even before Abigail, it gave us time to take a deep breath, sit back and really prepare for what was to come. No appointments, no running late for work, no plans. Just us and our adventure being laid out before us.
So it’s been a year and probably shouldn’t really be “celebrated”, but maybe instead you challenge yourself to look inward and see just one thing, one good thing - no matter how small - that you got from being locked in your house for a year and thank the universe for that small moment.
This pandemic was horrific, divisive, and extremely sad for the whole world around us, but the good moments do exist. I live in those moments.
