Aging Decades in Two Years

In March 2019 I thought writing a blog would help me process my emotional journey to have a second baby. I ended up writing drafts of raw posts that I couldn’t bring myself to publish. I struggled to capture the heartbreak of my miscarriage in October 2018. And I couldn’t articulate the rollercoaster of anxiety, hope, and heartbreak of failed IUIs or fading pink pregnancy lines on a home test. And right when I gave up on the idea of a sibling for my then 3-year old, the hopeful two pink lines. I gave birth to my little Rainbow the evening of March 11, 2020, wearing a mask during labor as a precaution at the request of Cedar-Sinai. Little did I know during my day and night of labor pains, the monumental shift that was happening in the world outside us.

I woke up on March 12 holding my tiny infant in a changed world. A global pandemic was declared. NBA games stopped. Concerts stopped. Grocery stores were emptied. My Facebook feed felt a bit post-apocalyptic. My colleagues were sent to work from home – and they’re still working from home a year later, except they are no longer my colleagues. I’ve lost a lot this past year, most recently my job after restructuring at the company due to the pandemic. At times feeling like I have aged decades.

I’ve not been able to see my family who lives abroad, and my parents had to cancel their month-long visit to meet their new grandson. I’ve lost my grandmother, two weeks before she turned 94, to Covid-19. Six months later I lost my beloved aunt, also to Covid-19. I’ve laid awake at 3AM countless nights over the last year. Anxiously praying for the newborn’s little runny nose and thinking of all the hands handling him in the hospital. Waking up more than once with body aches and a fever, only to discover mastitis. Laying awake praying for family members with blood clots in their lungs, fearing a call on my cell phone in the middle of the night bringing more bad news.

Yet I gained everything this year. I gained time to spend my lunch break outside with my son kicking a ball. Time to feed my baby during a work conference call. I gained appreciation of hugs of the past, and joys of calls and whatsapp. Gained gratitude for relationships that sustain us, for people who inspire me. Gained respect for the technology that keeps me connected to my parents and family. And deep gratitude for our blessing, this miracle baby, my little quaranteeny.

In many ways God’s timing was perfect with his arrival as this pandemic paralyzed the world. This little guy has been my lifeline during the anxiety and loneliness and fear. His little toothless smile and wonky steps have kept me laughing and smiling through the tears and heart palpitations. And seeing him and his older brother grow a bond, has given me so much joy.

I guess it is harder to write about experiences while you’re in them, and hindsight brings so much clarity, insight, and mostly gratitude. Despite the big losses, I have so much to be thankful for.

So if you happen to land on my brand new blog page, join me in finding silver livings and joys in the small things. I’m newly unemployed and have a renewed commitment to share and write about (having been) a working mom, fertility, motherhood, and reinventing oneself as a “mature mom” after losing your job in a pandemic…