Have You Seen a Pandemic Mum?
Have you seen a pandemic mum? This is her first baby and she's not quite sure what's happening. She is on the examination table by herself due to restrictions with her phone on video so her spouse can hear what the health care professionals say.
She clenches her fists as she has no hand to hold when the midwife tells her she's lost her baby's heartbeat. Silent tears run down her face when the alarm goes off and doctors and nurses rush into her room flipping her tired body back and forth trying to find the heartbeat while also prepping her for emergency surgery. Her hand instinctively rests on her belly as she desperately grips her phone because it's her only connection with the people she loves.
Have you seen a pandemic mum? She's a first-time mum and she is not too sure what she is doing. She walks in the park pushing the stroller or with her baby strapped to her. Her eyes are tired from sleepless nights, her hair and clothes dishevelled and beneath her coat she is wearing joggers and old running shoes. She is lonely and makes fleeting eye contact with you, not sure if to smile or not. She doesn't really know how to navigate this mum world having been stripped of mum groups and playdates.
Being stuck at home for a year now with only her baby, spouse and calls for company she has become socially awkward and thinks that perhaps she has nothing interesting to say anyway since her world and life now revolve around this baby. Her non mum friends have slowly stopped messaging her as they can't relate, and she takes hours to respond to their messages. She really would rather be home in bed but since fresh air is good for her and the baby she plods on quietly.
Have you seen a pandemic mum? She feels like she has lost herself in the mess at home. She spent the last 10 years growing professionally. She created her own identity separate from being a mum and a wife and contributes to her home financially. Suddenly she is no longer sure who that person is anymore, she has to work shorter hours or give it up all together to home school her children.
She now has to swallow her pride when her work colleagues accustomed to her professional personality see her frazzled on zoom calls, sometimes bouncing a toddler on her lap or they hear children screaming and fighting in the background. She is slowly drowning with her job, her children's schoolwork, housework, and she has to put herself last in the queue because she just doesn't have the time. She looks in the mirror and tries to find that person she used to be but then she tells herself "chin up" and plunders on to face another day.
Have you seen a pandemic mum? She met her grandchild via facetime. She didn't sleep while her daughter was in labour because she was worried she wasn't there to hold her baby girl's hand or be in the waiting room should anything happen. She saw her daughter cry through the exhaustion and pain of those first few weeks of motherhood and remembered what it was like and wanted to be there to help but couldn't.
She wishes she could hold her grand baby, she closes her eyes and imagines the milky baby scent and the weight of their sleepy head on her breast. She looks at pictures of her grandchild all the time and shares them with her friends. On daily WhatsApp calls she sees her go from newborn to turning; from rocking on all fours to crawling; from crying to gurgles; from babbles to her first words. She looks at her daughter and grandchild and feels an ache in her womb and counts the hours till the next call.
Have you seen a pandemic mum? Her home was once filled with noise and laughter. She has lived to see her own children grow up and have children of their own and those children are also now grown-up having children too. She looks around her empty room and remembers that rocking chair that she rocked all her grandchildren in, she looks at the pictures on her wall and marvels at how much time has passed.
She misses her children, she misses her grandchildren, she misses voices and laughter. This silence which robs her of any human warmth is like death just waiting to consume her. Suddenly after years of visits and hugs she has to learn how to use a cell phone and tablet, how to swipe to answer calls, and log in to zoom funerals for her deceased friends.
Have you seen a pandemic mum? She walks around everyday zoning in and out of reality just waiting for it to all be over so someone else can hold her and soothe her and tell her it's OK.
