Story #106 - Anonymous, Virginia (USA) - COVID Pregnancy, Birth & Postpartum, Cesarean Section, Job Loss, Anxiety & Sleep Deprivation
Our planning set up my maternity leave to be perfect: my in-laws, who live in California, would come in September to help watch the baby through Christmas, and then we’d put both kids in daycare after the New Year. When COVID hit, we figure we would have to make new plans: we pulled my first son out of daycare and waited to see if my in-laws could still come. A couple of weeks later, the bad news arrived: not only would they not be able to come, but we also found out that my father had been diagnosed with lung cancer. Within three days, our world collapsed. It was really rough.
I was originally going to take just three months off for my maternity leave, and then return to both of my part-time jobs, but I began to have a feeling that this would no longer be entirely feasible.
One of my jobs was at a hospital, which I ended up leaving in March. I’m a speech therapist there, and I really loved the work, but I just did not feel comfortable—at that point in the pandemic, very little was known about COVID’s effects on pregnant women and their babies. I didn’t want to risk it.
I ended up not hearing from my boss until after my son was born. I didn’t check in. She didn’t check in. The planned baby shower fell through, and nobody called or texted. I just fell off the radar. It was ultimately a very lonely, isolating experience.
My other job, as a speech therapist at a private practice, closed for three weeks before reopening virtually. And that was a whole shit show: I had to keep working, because I needed the money, but there was no one to care for my toddler. I had to work every day, one to three pm during his nap, which was super stressful, and just plain exhausting. I was seven months pregnant, and I didn’t have any breaks, ever. Looking back, I like to tell people it went smoothly, but I actually think that I blacked it out completely.
All of this stress likely contributed to my high blood pressure, which is why my second son was born three weeks early.
On a Thursday, near the end of my pregnancy, I went into my doctor’s office for a checkup, as I was far enough along that my appointments were no longer virtual. The nurse checked my blood pressure, and then my doctor suddenly came in, and without wasting any time, she said, “You have to deliver immediately, go to the hospital right now.”
And I remember saying, “Jesus, it’s that bad?” It was such a shock to me—I really had no idea. I knew the high blood pressure was from dealing with my family, dealing with my husband’s family, and dealing with work, all of which were stressful. But I thought that I would at least have time to go home and finish packing! My doctor insisted I head to the hospital straight away—that’s how I knew it was serious.
Thankfully, the delivery went smoothly. If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m someone who loves planning—I love the assurance, the control. So, I really didn’t mind that the delivery was a planned C-section. It was fast, and my recovery was smooth and easy, with minimal pain to be honest.
The C-section was easy, but it was definitely a weird experience in that I couldn’t feel anything, but at the same time, I could feel everything. I was numb from the medicine, so numb that I couldn’t even use my hands, and yet I could still feel pulling and whatnot.
It was a very rapid experience. I just vividly remember having terrible shivers. I felt freezing cold, and I was told it was because of the anesthesia.
I wasn’t able to actually hold my own baby, apart from an initial four seconds of holding, because I was shaking so badly. My husband held him instead, which was fine, but I do occasionally miss that I wasn’t able to have that moment with my son.
When we came home from the hospital, my husband had two weeks of paternity leave, which was so nice. It was good for us to have that bonding time together, as our little family.
In the midst of this transition, I never checked in with work, because I really thought it was going to be fine. It was fine for my first son—I left for my maternity leave, then returned, and everything was normal. Why wouldn’t it be the same the second time?
Eventually, my hospital job did contact me, and they told me that they wanted me back. I was super excited! My best work friend had resigned, and so I had a crazy waitlist, as I had to take all of her patients.
But that very same week, I talked to the private practice, and they told me I could only come back if I came back as a full-time worker. This is where I’m the director of speech services. The only reason they have a speech department is because I started it for them five years ago. I’ve done a lot for them. Not to mention the fact that I worked all the way until my son’s birth while also watching my toddler at the same time.
The private practice is run by my cousin, and she’s also my second son’s godmother. We’re very good at keeping our personal lives and our business lives separate. But there was so much going on, to the point that we would be fighting about my job one day, and the next day the fight wouldn’t even be resolved. All the while, she’s texting me to tell me what her daughter’s doing, like singing to a Backstreet Boys song. We would just completely pause from the fight—it was hard to juggle those two relationships at the same time, her being my boss and my cousin.
Anyway, her business managers called me, and they wanted me to work more than 40 hours a week, which is more than full-time.
They also wanted me to commute to Bethesda two days a week, which I just did not think I could do, with a toddler and a newborn at home.
I had a feeling that I would be miserable if I agreed to that. But I didn’t stop negotiating, and I ended up getting what I wanted: 20 hours a week, with a raise. This felt like a small victory.
But right after, everything came crashing down around me. The very next week after finishing the negotiations, I got a call while out on a walk with both of my boys. It was from the hospital. They said, “We don’t know what’s going to happen with the waitlist, but we decided to hire two full-time people. No more part-time worker.” There couldn’t have been a worse time to receive this call—it was just very hard to be on the phone because I was talking, walking, the baby was crying, and my toddler, ever the inquisitor, was like, “Mommy, who are you talking to?”
Part-time workers are more expensive than full-time workers, and I suppose they were using the opportunity of me being out to not bring me back. But it was so frustrating, like complete whiplash. All of a sudden, they just went, “Never mind.”
And then, as I began to get back to my old job, I realized they had implemented many changes during my time away. By that Friday, I called my cousin, and I said, “I have to resign.” I know it was the right move, but it’s hard. I haven’t heard from my cousin since my resignation. She’s liked my photos on Facebook, and she’s texted me a picture of her kids, but professionally we have not spoken.
Even though I lost both my jobs, I was very lucky. When COVID hit, I had applied to about eight virtual speech therapy jobs and one of them worked out. So far, I really like it. It’s easy and convenient, which is what I need right now. I do think that it is much more suited to my current lifestyle than my previous jobs. I’m planning on starting my own speech therapy business—I’m going to be able to do what I love, while also being afforded the independence I need to take care of my kids.
Throughout all of this, my husband has been tremendously helpful. He’s taking it as his business too, which is exciting. He’s built my entire website from scratch. It’s truly our business, not just mine.
We aren’t able to have our families around as much as we did with my first son, which has been interesting to navigate, but it’s been a good experience to have an au pair. It’s afforded us the flexibility to focus on our new business whenever we want.
My husband is one of those guys who will do whatever he’s told, but he’s not the kind of guy who knows what needs to be done.
I hate to be the nagging wife, but that’s kind of the role that I have to be. I think it’s because I’m the one who knows what needs to be done. As women, we’re just socialized to know these things and to do these things as well, like carrying the laundry upstairs. It’s really ingrained in us.
I don’t think I’m the only wife to think this. Every woman I’ve talked to talks about their husband that way; there’s no husband out there who does that stuff on his own unless it’s something like mowing the lawn.
But overall, I am really lucky: my husband is incredibly supportive, and he’s so great with the kids, and he works so hard with his job—he’s truly an incredible guy.
I am just very, very tired.
Part of my exhaustion is that my baby’s not sleeping. He wants to eat all the time.
For months two and three, he was sleeping well, and he was waking up only once, which was great. And I thought, ‘this kid’s going to be so much easier than my first son!’ But then he turned four months old, and the four-month sleep regression hit—it just has not gone away.
He’s up almost all night, two hours on the doc. But next month, he’s going to start sleeping in his crib.
He’ll be fine in there. We have a monitor, and my hearing is naturally through the roof. My husband can hear nothing, and that’s not a unique story. Maybe supernaturally good hearing is part and parcel of being a mother.
Despite the sleeping problems with the baby, we’re also starting to potty train my first son at night, which has been challenging. He’s started running into the room and waking me up at night when he was sleeping through the night before. To put it simply, I don’t think I’m going to be getting a healthy amount of sleep for quite a while.
But he is learning to come in quietly, which is helping.
I’ve also started teaching him. I do theme weeks, and I plan out corresponding activities. It’s something I’m pretty proud of, because I think he’s learning a lot, and I also think that he genuinely enjoys it.
Of all the things I do, my teaching is probably the one thing I could drop, but it’s the one I don’t want to drop because I get the most enjoyment from it. It makes me happy, so happy that I won’t give it up, even though I would gain more time to rest. I just love watching my son grow and learn. If it weren’t for COVID, he would be in daycare right now—I am really getting a unique opportunity to foster his growth myself, which is pretty cool.
Another thing that makes me happy, is the fact that my baby is just growing tremendously. I did not have this growth curve with my first son. It was always a battle to get him to grow and to eat. But with my baby, I just have not had any feeding issues.
In a month, I’ll start feeding him solids. I’m also a feeding therapist, so hopefully, I don’t mess this up. I mean, what if he’s picky? Kids can just be picky.
So I don’t know how he’s going to take to eating solids. I also think it’s very different for me to feed my own kid than to feed a kid who’s not mine. For example, when my first son takes an hour to eat, I get super stressed out about it. But then I coach parents through that at work.
I’ll tell them, “Your kid’s taking a long time. It’s not a big deal. Here’s how you fix it.” But it’s very different when it’s my own kid.
And my husband looks to me as the expert in feeding. Oh, well I’m always the parenting expert. I’m big on researching, making sure that I’m doing what’s recommended.
I like it, but there are days I wonder why I’m doing all this.
What helps the most right now is that I have a great mom network now. It’s been tremendously helpful through the entire postpartum period. I didn’t have that the first time. Other than my sister, I didn’t know anybody with kids. It’s very different now, which is good.
And I’m really happy about my new business venture. It’s scary to take a chance and start something new, but I think I have the opportunity to do a lot of good for this neighborhood.
I don’t mean to suggest that this neighborhood is struggling by any means, but I know a lot of the moms, and I want to be that person they can go to for help without sitting on a six-month wait-list for therapy. I just want to be that person who can help out.