Story #76 - Postpartum Pandemic Stories - Meagan, Falls Church VA (USA) - On Having a Baby During COVID, Global and Individual Trauma, Grief & Anxiety
I was induced at 41+weeks past my due date because of elevated blood pressure, but I'm sure it was anxiety-related due to COVID19. I was reading the news every day, and I could feel my heart race. I'm a marriage and family psychotherapist and I know how anxiety works… They started implementing new policies at INOVA Alexandria because of the pandemic around the end of my pregnancy, making everything seem more uncertain, which was an additional stressor.
I wanted to try everything I could before they induced me because I know the body responds differently when you artificially start labor with medicine. My doula and I did hypnobirthing class, but nothing worked, and, eventually, we had to go in. Once in the labor and delivery ward, we felt very safe. Aside from coming in from a different entrance and being screened, it almost felt like business as usual. The nurses tried their best to make us feel comfortable.
I labored for 24 hours—16 of them were very painful. They tried Cytotec and Cervidil, then inserted a foley bulb, which made my contractions very intense. I had continuous monitoring and couldn't ease my back labor by moving around, so I ended up having an epidural. I wanted to avoid Pitocin at all costs, but eventually, I had no choice. I was doing okay under the care of my midwife, but at some point, a doctor came in and drastically increased my Pitocin intake. I went from 6cm to 9cm in 30 minutes. It caused the epidural to stop working, and I panicked.
It was terrifying.
It's a bummer because after having gone through all this and being 9cm, the baby's heart rate spiked, and I had an emergency c-section.
I stayed for three nights at the hospital afterward. The care at INOVA Alexandria was the best part. The nurses were wonderful. As my labor had become more intense, there was a shift change, and I ended up with a male nurse. I remember not wanting to have a guy in there and wasn't very receptive to him. But he stayed through the whole birth, and by the end, I didn't want him to leave. He came in for the C-section, although his shift had ended.
The anesthesiologist who was by my side during the surgery was also fantastic. I had a full-blown trauma response. I knew this was what was happening, but I couldn't control what I was saying. I'd catch myself and would apologize to her, and she'd be so reassuring and help me calm down.
This experience was—and still very much is—traumatic. Not just because nothing on my "wish list" was respected, but also because I'm trying to process my own trauma as this global trauma is happening.
From his birth to now, in the thick of the postpartum period, not much has changed. I don't think I can quite verbalize my feelings yet.
There's a definite sense of unfairness. When I pause and think of the things that I'm grieving, the first thing that comes in mind is social interactions. No one can meet our son; no one can drop off meals in person and come in for a moment to allow me to have a grown-up conversation with another adult. It's a totally different experience than what I anticipated.
I'm not upset at anyone because it would be unfair to ask them to think about my "big life change" when they're themselves dealing with their own "big life change." But I still struggle.
There's deep grief in thinking that having a baby isn't special anymore.
My husband and I are going through the newborn phase together, as every other parent did in the past. Still, the difference right now is that everyone else is also processing the same kinds of narratives. New parents are isolated, and so is the rest of the world. Everyone has their version of "what our lives used to be." Everyone else is also anxious about the uncertainty and constant changes.
I've had some friends joke over zoom, saying, "You're not missing out on anything." But to be keenly honest, I'd rather miss out.
My anxiety currently comes and goes in waves, and I'm more worried than usual. Some of it is hormonal and related to the novelty of our lives, but I have to be extra careful about my health because our son now needs me so much. I'm trying not to go down the rabbit hole about predicting the future. It's tough. If I weren't a new mom right now, I'd probably manage it better. I'd know that 2 am isn't a good time to check the news while breastfeeding. But I do it anyway. I will look at my feed obsessively, and it's so hard to fight off the anxiety at that time of the day (or night!).
I had created a postpartum plan. Being in the mental health field and struggling with anxiety and depression all my life, I was proactive about the postpartum period. I have my own therapists, and I thought I'd have sessions with them even if I did feel okay. I had also planned to talk to friends, but all of this is harder to enact now. Of course, I could do telehealth or zoom, but it's not the same as an in-person connexion.
Overall, I'm doing well—better than I thought I would. I'm sensitive to hormonal changes, so I expected to crash more than I did. We are cautious about social distancing, and so are my parents. My mom has been coming up Monday through Thursday, and it's been incredibly helpful. I've noticed a massive difference since she started coming over. She will do the night feeding, and I get a couple of extra hours of sleep. I seriously don't know how people do it without any help.
I also have a very good friend who had her baby on the day I had mine. Her mom lives in Utah and hasn't been able to come and help. My heart breaks for her.
The correlation between postpartum and pandemic is odd sometimes. When I came home, I cried every single day for two weeks. I have friends who told me they also cried every day during the same period. At least we don’t need to justify "not being productive" anymore. You also don't have to justify feeling all the feels. I am not always sure if I'm sobbing because of baby blues, my anxiety, or the pandemic. Everyone is wearing pajamas and watches Netflix.
I'd facetime with friends, and I'd say, "I haven't showered since Sunday," and they'd be like, "Us too!"
Because of video chat, I think we're also talking to friends sooner than we might have done otherwise. Within a few days of being home, we connected with them, while "in real life," we would have waited to be ready and go out for lunch.
I've talked to more people now that I would have seen without the pandemic. I remember before he was born, a lot of thoughts went into the "visitor" situation. I knew my parents would come right away, but I wasn't sure who I would allow in otherwise. With social distancing, I didn't have to choose and tell people they aren’t allowed to come, which is a huge relief.
Of course, we're worried about having help later on. We're not sure when it's going to end so, we'll have to ponder the risks vs. benefits of having people over to help us.
I find myself continually googling, "When does this colicky phase pass?", "When will this pandemic be over?" or "When do babies start sleeping?" I know the internet also has no clue, but for a split second, it feels good to research it.
The weight of this current situation when you're exhausted is so hard. In darker moments, you think, "What kind of world am I bringing my baby into?" My husband is better at compartmentalizing, so he gets through the day more gracefully. I struggle not to project, and I struggle not to go down the rabbit hole.
In the end, I have to remind myself that no one is dealing with this perfectly. We have to talk about it and connect with others (especially with our partner) to make it a little less heavy.
The juxtaposition of the new mom phase and the world that is falling apart is strange. Everyone is feeling what I'm feeling, but for different reasons.
It's sad and hard. And in a way, it's comforting, too.