JOINT BASE LANGLEY-EUSTIS, Va. –
“Still no baby?”
This is the text message that jumpstarted my birth story.
All day I’d been experiencing intermittent back pain but, as if on cue, once this text appeared on my home screen the pain became constant and much more intense.
No new mom knows what a contraction will feel like. I heard and read they’re similar to a cramp but stronger. In reality, contractions are very different from a cramp to me, but it is indescribable how agonizing the pain was or where exactly I felt it. It was all-consuming.
I stayed in pain for almost nine hours. I drifted in and out of a cat-nap-like sleep on my couch. This was the only place I could re-position enough to be moderately comfortable through the contractions. Finally around 4 a.m., I felt a flood of liquid and knew my water had broken.
Embarking on this journey as a single parent, I pulled myself off the couch and called my best friend and coworker, Monica. She would be my support through delivery, as we planned for weeks prior.
She answered, clearly rising from a deep sleep by the grogginess in her voice.
I simply said, “It’s time.”
Becoming a parent is a life-altering and terrifying moment for anyone. But I was entering this portion of my life in an unprecedented time: a global health pandemic.
One of the most drastic safety measures and protocols the hospital implemented to help prevent the further spread of COVID-19 is limiting the number of people allowed at appointments or procedures. This is extended even to mothers giving birth, so I could only have one trusted person present with me as I suffered through labor and delivery. Upon arrival, the hospital felt deserted but luckily, my best friend was by my side.
My in-processing started with a COVID-19 test. This came as a complete surprise because at the time, in May, I didn’t think the hospital had the capability to test every new mother. I secretly hoped they didn’t because I had seen photos of how the test is administered. To say the test was uncomfortable is an understatement. It felt as though the giant swab they shoved up my nose went all the way to my brain.
Results: Negative.
“Thank God,” I thought to myself.
Every patient in the hospital had to wear a mask, but luckily, I was told I could take mine off once in my room. I was monitored in triage for two hours to confirm my water had broken and run necessary tests for health evaluation of myself and my baby before they finally admitted me to my own delivery room. By this time the pain was so excruciating, I was certain I couldn’t take it anymore.
Active labor is no joke. It was, by far, the worst pain I’ve ever had in my life. I begged the doctor continuously to make it stop. I even considered asking for a C-section so it could all be over. For some inexplicable reason, my epidural didn’t take. I felt every contraction, every push and everything the doctor was doing to me. My labor lasted just over 14 hours, and at 7:10 p.m., May 8, 2020, my son Jericho was born.
Surreal is the only word I can use to describe the moment you finally see your first-born child. Realization crashed over me that I had actually became a mom, just then, in that moment. I was in shock even though I had endured almost 10 months of pregnancy.
He felt real at that moment and it’s a feeling I’ll never forget.
Having my best friend with me was a unique experience I will always cherish. I’m thankful I didn’t have to go through hours of labor alone, with just doctors and nurses checking in. She was by my side the entire time. If my countless breakdowns traumatized her, she never let it show.
Bringing a baby into the world with the fear and restrictions surrounding COVID-19 was interesting to say the least. Luckily, this was my first child so I wouldn’t know the difference. I’ll never forget the eerie feeling of the empty hospital and the gravity of how serious the situation was, and still is.
It was apocalyptic in a sense, from arriving at the hospital early in the morning to an abandoned parking lot devoid of other cars, to seeing the labor and delivery wing absent of its normal noise and life. I left without flowers, or balloons. There could not be a big entourage of friends and coworkers to welcome my boy into the world. It was so different from what you see in movies or what we’ve collectively come to expect giving birth to be.
After my son’s birth, Monica left to give me privacy and time to rest.
Jericho and I spent the next two days in the hospital, just us two. It was such a sweet experience, getting to know the little human who had been growing in me for the past 38 weeks.
The safety restrictions allowing only one visitor physically present made the experience somewhat lonely for a single mom, but there is a silver lining. Spending those two nights alone with my baby boy allowed me to truly bond with him without having to worry about sharing him with the world quite yet.
Having a child during the pandemic is something I will always remember. Although we are still living through these uncertain times, it is becoming more and more normal every day.
I plan on having more babies and I think even if the restrictions are lifted in the future, I might choose to do it all the same way again because birth through a pandemic is one for the history books.