Our Lockdown Baby
Feb 04, 2021
When I first fell pregnant in 2019 ‘Covid’ was unheard of. Virus was rarely mentioned, and masks were worn for surgery, DIY and spray painting.
The Coronavirus didn’t concern me. Not until March 2020 when I was instructed to isolate as pregnant women were considered high risk.
All of a sudden my pregnancy seemed tainted, a little scary and keeping my small family safe was more important to me than ever. Scans were instructed to be made alone. I felt sad that we wouldn't experience this together, as we had the first time. But more than for myself, I felt overwhelmingly sad for all the first-time mums doing this alone. The mums taking news on their own. No support. No cuddles. All whilst wearing a mask making everything so separated, impersonal.
Rules changed daily. Scans got cancelled. Scans got rescheduled. Appointments were conducted over the phone. Labour rules were put in place. I seemed to be treading this massive path for us, alone. It wasn't about 'our' choices, it felt like the baby’s father’s role had diminished – like he had been forgotten. The thought of him not being at the birth was something that plagued me at night. The pressure hung over me that my labour needed to be a certain way to ensure he could be there. Suddenly it wasn't just about giving birth anymore. It was so much more.
My first labour was 4 days. Yes, 4 days! It was expected this one wouldn't be quick, and that was reassuring. Contractions started during the night and for approximately 12 hours I stayed at home grunting cow noises and holding on to whatever I could. When we arrived at the hospital, I was instructed to go in. Contracting every 2 minutes, I walked into the maternity ward alone.
I was repeatedly sent away to dilate further, but after 14 hours of contractions they finally offered me a bed on the ward. By myself, I panted and contracted hunched over a ball. The midwives were amazing! And actually, I felt a growing sense of empowerment and closeness to other women who had experienced the same, doing this alone, finding the strength to protect their little one. I could do this, for my husband, for my little boy. I totally had this! Five hours past and I was told I could move up to the Midwife Led Unit and get into the pool. More importantly my husband was now allowed to be by my side. He had been sitting in the car park for five hours, unable to help me. I can't imagine how that must have felt.
Submerged in the water, our little girl arrived. My husband was asked to leave after three hours. He wouldn't be able to be with us again until I was discharged.
8 hours later and we were all reunited. When I look back on it. I feel so many emotions. I can be angry that this beautiful experience we should have shared together was taken away from us, and particularly from him. Something he deserved to be an intimate part of. But, as a parent I can’t dwell on it, because we know we are amazingly lucky to have our little girl and our complete family. We did it, and I did it. I think we’re all made of tougher stuff than we think sometimes.
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