HOW IT FEELS to be pregnant in a pandemic

Exactly one year ago, I was on a Toronto-bound flight from Beijing after a reporting assignment in Shenzhen, China. When I got home after 13 hours in a middle seat where my top worry was my neighbour hogging the armrest, I resumed planning my June wedding, a celebration with 140 guests, almost half travelling to the event by plane.

Neither event would be possible now in the time of coronavirus, travel restrictions and social distancing. It startles me every time I realize how much has changed in a year, especially since I’m now in my third trimester and preparing to have a baby during a pandemic.

It feels weird to announce a pregnancy in a news article, but hey, this whole pandemic thing is throwing everything off. Besides, it saves me from having to stage a photo shoot for an Instagram reveal.

A rapidly spreading virus adds another layer to the standard-issue anxieties that go along with a first pregnancy. So far, it seems pregnant women aren’t more likely to get the virus than other populations, according to global health authorities, but it’s too soon to say how it could affect infants. Preliminary reports show risks of pre-term birth for women who contract COVID-19 during their pregnancies, so, forgive me for feeling a little paranoid.

COVID-19 has already reshaped how Canadian women will give birth at hospitals and how we’ll navigate our first weeks with our new roommates.

Before I react to the new labour ward restrictions (spoiler alert: yikes), I want to recognize the women around the world who give birth in far more precarious circumstances, whose safety is at risk pandemic or not. I also want to emphasize my respect and gratitude for all health-care workers putting themselves at risk by going to work every day. I want to do my part to help keep them and hospitals safe for people who need care, including vulnerable infants. But I’d be lying if I said the following restrictions didn’t leave me with a pit of anxiety deep in my chest.

At present, many hospitals in the

Greater Toronto Area where I live allow only one support person during labour and delivery for women who do not have COVID-19. That means either your doula or your partner. Your husband or your mom. If your support person shows any COVID-19 symptoms, they’re not allowed in the door. If you test positive, no one is allowed to accompany you.

In some COVID-19 hot spots, like New York, some hospitals have banned partners, period. So women were giving birth alone, until the governor issued an executive order on March 28 demanding hospitals allow a partner in the labour and delivery room.

Here in Canada, things haven’t gotten that bad — yet. Support people aren’t allowed out of the room once they enter. Some hospitals are restricting how long support people are allowed to stay after birth, giving them a window of several hours. No visitors are allowed to visit the baby in the hospital.

As for visitors, once you go home, well, sorry, grandma and grandpa. Doctors are recommending no visitors for at least two weeks. Instead, parents are introducing their babies on video chats or, once they get home, holding them up to windows for family members to see through the glass.

Of course, all of these recommendations are fluid and subject to change any minute.

My pre-pandemic concerns now seem cute. They included navigating the vast array of you-absolutely-must-do-this advice, from what to eat to how to tell your boss, to what stroller to buy (seriously, how are they more complicated than cars?).

As my June due date approaches, my questions became more focused on labour and life thereafter. Should we hire a doula? How soon should my parents and in-laws come visit after the birth? Can I keep my mom as a prisoner in our guest room for several months to help us with the baby?

The pandemic could drastically change the answers to those questions and raise many more.

People keep telling me parenting is a constant process of letting go of control. Maybe I was naïve, but I was feeling pretty zen about birth, knowing that plans are often thrown out the window if an emergency C-section is needed or the baby comes too fast for an epidural.

But I never imagined giving birth without my husband by my side. And I can’t fathom having to tell our families to stay away from our first baby, my in-laws’ first grandchild, for weeks or longer. Bit of a plot twist.

I’m trying not to focus too much on these possibilities, and not just for fear the internet will admonish me that being stressed is bad for the baby. I’m trying instead, with varying degrees of success, to remain hopeful that social distancing measures will work and things will be closer to normal when the baby arrives.

Mostly, I’m focusing on what I’m grateful for: A loving partner who has volunteered to YouTube “How To Deliver a Baby” in case we need to have a home birth. A safe home. Family and friends who support us, even from afar. A healthy pregnancy (so far, knock on wood). A job that enables me to work from home. Living in a country where I have access to worldclass medical care and maternity leave. It’s a long list, and I recognize how lucky and privileged I am.

Still, being pregnant in a pandemic makes me feel even more exposed during an already vulnerable time. So please, for all us pregnant women out there grappling with the added uncertainty this virus poses during one of life’s most precarious, yet meaningful moments, help do your part to flatten the curve. And not just because I don’t trust my husband’s do-it-yourself delivery skills.

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