Some moments stick with you...I still remember 9/11 happening - me walking home from school and seeing the twin towers crash on the screen, over and over again. Another time - Sitting in a classroom at Bridgewater and listening to a student sharing her story of running away after the marathon bombing - seeing tears fall on all of our faces in the circle. So vivid, the scene she placed in my mind. So often, it is the dark moments that stick with us.
March 13, 2020. I had planned to take that day off months before...first marked as a day of joy, then turned to sorrow when our prior pregnancy ended in loss. Yet - I never expected loss to be felt by all that morning. The day before - our anatomy ultrasound of our current pregnancy - the last one that my husband could accompany me too - glad he was with me as we went into that appointment with a level of anxiety I didn't want to acknowledge. Luckily, our baby to be's heart was beating strong.
That Friday, we had plans to go to a local brewery and play trivia...we sent our regrets and had our first of many video calls...albeit they were out at the brewery, unaware of how quickly that would change. Our friends thought this may last a couple weeks - our family figured months, but perhaps not as many as have since passed. We has our last supper party earlier that week - interrupted only by the shopping delivery of water, lysol, and toiled paper (don't hate me - I only got a 20 pack) where my friends laughed at my preparations.
We have now been in isolation for an entire year. I am aware of the privilege of that statement. When my husband went to work the following Monday and called me at noon expressing how it wasn't possible for him to stay distanced and take the precautions we had discussed....I told him to come home and that is where he has stayed. I, gratefully, have been able to work remotely throughout. While this has been difficult - we have the wisdom to understand that we couldn't risk it, I have Cystic Fibrosis and diabetes, and I may not survive the virus - so it was an easy decision to make.
We spent the spring nesting: my husband created a bright nursery with a playhouse in the eave and a bar in the basement with a handcrafted poker table. I worried about the world, my pregnancy, and my life. There was no late night runs to the store. My pregnancy craving of oreos was only abated after a three week wait for our Peapod order. While others were making sourdough, cravings led me to get an ice cream attachment and I spent the spring learning how to make ice cream. To distract us, we traveled through the screen to learn about coffee in Columbia and followed a plague doctor through Prague in the Middle Ages. We explored Lisbon, Portugal, made Crepes in France, and learned to make a delicious pineapple fried rice in Hawaii.
The summer brought our long awaited little one. A girl named Rose. With a calm and gentle nature like her father, and bright eyes and a drive to match her mama. After getting home, we fully immersed ourselves in life with a newborn..the transition to the slower pace of family life eased into by the protective quarantine that had become our norm. We had our first date nights learning how to make a Moroccan dinner and explored Argentinean wine country with a sommelier, all through zoom.
We spent the fall walking in the woods, making homemade gifts for Christmas, and celebrating the harvest by exchanging our homemade goods with friends. My husband created a 16 foot table for the yard to accommodate a safe Thanksgiving celebration, we used it for Christmas as well - rather chilly but gratefully together.
The winter slow & quiet, but warm...the glow of the fire logs in the hearth, a bit of peanut butter whiskey sipped by the fire-pit with snow falling around us. We wore our ski gear - not on the slopes but to keep us warm in the yard. Two vaccines get emergency approval and we start to think we may get to have a Spring and Summer with others. We kept ourselves occupied with experiences through Airbnb - the virus may have kept us off of airplanes but we are able to connect with the world through zoom. We learned how to make Indian cuisine, French macaroons, Mexican Tacos, and now that I could drink again - took classes in Sake, Mezcal, Georgian Wine, and Gin cocktails.
The Spring brought us to a full year of living with the virus. Vaccines now available in limited amounts and there we see a light at the end of the tunnel, I caught up on my thank you notes - behind from Christmas and also writing to businesses in our community who by their practices - helped to keep us safe.
This year has brought up feelings of resentment and anger. The story I tell myself from the messaging I hear is that those with illness are expected to rot away, die, and let others continue their lives. That perhaps if they need a ventilator - they shouldn't even have access. The deaths of those chronically ill desired to not even count. That we live in a country that prioritizes the individual above all else - that independence allows you the right to not do basic things like wearing a mask that help to protect others. That we are incapable of sacrifice. That we have a lack of ethics and morality in our political system and government. That we shape the narrative to serve our own interests and that we learn very little from history. That we will continue to prioritize work and not the worker. I know we can do better. Resentment builds that we couldn't also make decisions based on desire rather than the necessity of safety. In these moments I breathe deeply and know that I matter, that we will do everything we can to get safely through this, and that we have a wonderful life. I have peace knowing that I brought no sickness to anyone during this time.
Yet, more importantly and within my locus of control - this year has also brought peace and a slower pace of life - one I am going to have a hard time giving up. A year with my little one...a year of cuddling, of presence, connection, and growth. A year of development as a couple and as new parents. A year of new recipes that we will carry with us. A year of change, of adapting, creativity, patience, struggle, and resilience. So a choice is before us - to remember the fear, the anxiety... or something else.
I was cooking up dinner in the kitchen, the weather was warm and the door was left open - soaking up the sun. The sound of the sizzle in the skillet interrupted by sound wafting up the stairs, drawing me in. I head downstairs and see that my husband has the sound system placed and the sounds of the 1960's are pulsating through the space. He takes me in his arms and we float around the room, encompassing my pregnant belly with our embrace. We laugh with joy at this spontaneous moment of connection before I run back upstairs to check on the food on the stove, before I set off the fire alarm...again. This is what I will choose to focus on.