Nobody knows what it’s like to give birth and be in the fourth trimester during a global pandemic than those of us that are currently doing so. And for us: there is no roadmap.

I did not expect being a mom to be easy: I knew all too well about the tantrums, late nights, and excessive worrying. I’ve always heard how having a newborn is like throwing a damp cloth over a candle in a marriage: I’ve been told time and time again that passion, affection, and patience disappear in the beginning of parenthood.

And that’s when you have a child NOT during a global pandemic.

I found, thankfully, for Anthony and I all of those things (passion, affection, and patience) increased when we first came home. I think him witnessing me in labor, watching and helping our son come into the world, and then the exhaustion and sadness we suffered through together with Luca in the NICU brought us to a new level in our relationship. It was amazing, and so imperative for my mental health to have such a hands on, loving, and affectionate partner during these times.

I asked for what I needed when I needed it, he took complete control of all diaper changes while Luca’s circumcision healed (Anthony unfortunately was there to watch it performed), and knew to bring me food and water often.

He became my caretaker in a way I didn’t know was possible.

The one time our marriage, even really our entire relationship, has experienced any true turmoil has been about visitors during this pandemic.

It’s hard for all of us during this time: There’s this disease that’s supposedly highly contagious but we don’t totally know how, that supposedly only affects certain age groups yet my friends that are doctors are regularly incubating patients and coworkers my age, there are stats that it’s not that bad, and just as many stats that it’s horrible. We are all confused, scared and frustrated!

I don’t pretend to know or understand anything about this virus. But what I do know is that I am a new mom, and I don’t feel safe with anyone (aside from a medical professional) coming near my child. So far my son has only seen us without masks on, and only been touched by us without gloves.

Even my mom: who has been in strict quarantine for over 2 months doesn’t come close to him. The 3 times she’s visited, she wears gloves and a mask, comes nowhere NEAR us, and stays no more than 10 minutes. It breaks my heart in a way I cannot explain.

When I talk to other women whom are also in their fourth trimester, we all echo the same deep sadness over not having our mom’s around for the foreseeable future. It seems unnatural to give birth and become a mom, and not have your mom there to hug you, to hold your child, to help teach you things about being a mom. I wish everyday my mom could come over and rub Luca’s eyebrows and show me how she soothed me when I was fussy. I wish she could be here with him, because I wonder how much he and I have in common as babies. I’m literally crying as I type this just thinking about how hard and sad it is to be isolated from her during this time in my life. And I have heard that over and over from other new mom’s too: they, like me, hold back tears as they express the sadness of missing their own mom’s as they step into the role of “mom” themselves. What I needed after giving birth and having my son taken from me and sent to the NICU, was a hug from my mom while I broke down. I still need that hug. I’d love for my friends to come over, have a beer with us, and do things to make him laugh. My son deserves to be ridiculously spoiled and smothered with affection by his two grandmothers.

But this isn’t the world we are living in right now. We are living in time that none of us have experienced. So for me, as a new mom of a NICU baby that had respiratory issues, whether a person could give us COVID or a cold: my instincts are to shelter in place. To stay inside with my baby and my son and not bring anyone else near him. At this point, the various conversations I have had over the last two months with nurses and doctors they all say the same thing: it is NOT worth the risk. He is too young. COVID is too unknown right now. It is so incredibly sad for us, but my desire to keep my baby safe is far more important to me than my feelings and desire to see people. And the disconnection this has caused in my marriage has truly caused me to feel just as depressed as I’ve felt with my breastfeeding struggles: I’ve held my son in the living room alone and just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed about this.

I was asked if I feel a lack of support because of COVID and how I am coping with it, I’ve thought about that a lot, and spoken with other new mom’s about this issue. For many of us, we truly have been managing just fine with the tasks of parenthood. It’s all the other stuff this virus has thrown on top that is causing the immense grief.

When my friend’s had babies I went over: sometimes even spent the night so they could sleep while I took care of their newborn. I’d clean their house, and leave snacks and water out for them. Do what I could to make it so they and their partner didn’t have to think about anything but their baby. And I know they would have done that for us: but they aren’t allowed. Even my postpartum doula has had to mourn the fact that she hasn’t been able to come over and offer me the physical support we both were so looking forward to.

As I’ve discussed this with other women who are navigating these waters, we have found that the pressure we get from other moms has also been really troubling, especially because these women qualify their judgement and pressure by saying “I remember…” but the truth is:

You do NOT remember.

I want to be clear that I am saying this with so much respect and love in my heart for all parents, but you DO NOT know what this is like for us, because you didn’t have a baby in the last 2 months. . You know what PART of this is like for us. But you can’t possibly comprehend what it’s like for those of us who gave/are giving birth, and becoming new parents during COVID-19.

YOU had friends and family come over. We can’t and don’t have that. In fact: I didn’t even get my 6 week postpartum visit. If you needed something, you could go to the store and get it. I haven’t been in a grocery store since before giving birth. Or any store for that matter. I have to rely on ordering EVERYTHING, or being worried about my spouse when he does go out for essentials. You understand one part, one very big part, of what is hard about being a new parent, but you had the privilege of having a child when the world was “normal.”

On top of being a newborn parent and those universal experiences, we have this thick layer on top of feeling:

Unsafe.

We feel unsafe, and often unseen & unheard because what we are experiencing is a different type of fourth trimester isolation. What we are going through is universal only to us going through it right now. We haven’t been embraced by our family members, we haven’t had the type of care we were supposed to have from our care providers, our friends didn’t see us grow in our final stages of pregnancy. We’ve been shut inside from the world during what is supposed to be the most joyful time of our lives, and a time we are supposed to share with others and be showered by our community.

Overall, I do feel supported: I am incredibly self-reliant and don’t ever depend on others. I feel supported because my husband is an amazing hands on dad. But other than that: COVID has 100% robbed all of us new parents of the universally intense postpartum experience, by throwing in a global pandemic we just can’t pretend to truly know anything about.

So sometimes I stomp my feet and whine “this isn’t fair” inside of my head (like my son is sure to do in a few years.) But now that we are 8 weeks in, I have resigned to the fact that this is our life for the foreseeable future. I will continue to keep my son safe in my arms, fervently protecting him from whatever it is that’s going on out there as best as I possibly can. Because that’s all I can do: my best.

And while ALL of that is swimming around in my head, I also have found so much to be grateful for during this time. I was already planning on being my son’s primary care provider, but I knew at some point I’d have to let somebody watch him while I taught a class. Even before having him I worried about who I could possibly trust to care for my son. Well, now I don’t have to worry about that!

I get to hold, kiss, and care for my son around the clock: which really has created such a deep bond and connection between the two of us. We all know how important it is for infants to feel safe, secure, and loved. He is in my arms 90% of the day, and sure…when I have to pump or pee it provides a problem for me. But there truly is nothing I’d rather do than hold my son. If it weren’t for COVID, my husband would have gone back to work by now: but now, he works from home. So throughout the day, he too holds and bonds with our son. And that’s been so beautiful to watch.

So yes, being a new parent during COVID is loaded with hardships: emotionally traumatizing ones. But I try to focus on the positive: on how everyone has chosen to rise above by connecting virtually, on the blessing of having my husband around 24/7, that both of us still get to work during this time all while caring for our gorgeous son.