Month: November 2020

I had H in December 2019. It was cold and rainy day the day we brought her home. I remember the first place we went as a family of three was Target. Dazed, we just walked around, no real goal. We kept a seat cover over her at all times in public, trying to protect her from germs and sickness. We put off seeing friends and family for the first month. The fewer people she saw, the less chance of getting sick she had. “There’s always later”, we said. I wanted to get therapy as my depression lingered too long. “Later”, I told myself. As she got her first shots, we relaxed a little. We went to stores, took her to our favorite restaurant. She slept the entire time. I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. The newborn phase was almost over.

News reports started circulating of an unknown virus. Weeks went by, and suddenly, it was here. All around us. I was helpless as I watched all of the plans we had for H’s first year fall apart around us. My long distance parents and sibling had plans of visiting this year. Gone. We had plans of going to Disneyland. Gone. Plans of visiting home in 2021. Gone. Trips to the library. Gone. Stores. Gone. Play dates. Gone. Everything gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. After half a year of not being able to do anything, I watched my social life slip away. I realized that I was perpetually stuck in the newborn phase. Alone, with no support.

Here it is, less than a month from H’s first birthday, and I’ve been to a store twice since March. I’ve long since faced the fact that my family won’t see H until she’s closer to 2. I’m worried about what not being around other people for the first couple years of her life will do to H. Will it affect her negatively later on? I mourn the opportunities we’ve missed. The act of taking her to a park is now marred with fear, what if someone passes too close? What if we’re not doing enough? Most of the time, we just don’t go.

This was just not how I imagined the first year of being a parent to go. It’s so lonely, full of doubt and uncertainty. I mourn the support I never got, the ways this already difficult situation was made harder. Even still, I am thankful that I had H when I did, and not a few months later. Because we’ve been stuck at home since March, we’ve really been on vibe with H’s schedule. Our world revolves around her entirely, so our schedule has been optimized entirely for her. We have four adults in the house that adore her, so she always has someone to care for her. And that, I am thankful for. The last 8 months have been a delicate balancing act between being thankful that we got so lucky in our situation, and being emotionally destroyed from shutting down our life for at least a year. It’s been a tough year, but I take comfort in knowing that it isn’t affecting H negatively, at least for now.