Six months ago, much of the United States began quarantining to try to stop the spread of COVID-19. When the governor of Illinois, where I live, announced a shelter-in-place mandate, nobody predicted that this unprecedented stay-at-home series would last beyond its original two-week duration. At that time, my daughter had just turned 10 months old, and the hardest part of these new rules was cutting out her socialization and the joy that she brings to others.
It was impossible to explain to a baby what was happening and why, especially as very few adults were even able to understand.
I am immunocompromised, so my household and my family have, since the beginning, taken COVID-19 recommendations and precautions very seriously. We are beyond lucky that our childcare situation was unaffected by the virus—we have had a live-in nanny since last fall, which has meant that our daughter has had more constants than many other children during this time. It also meant that both my husband and I could continue working from home—which we also both did before the pandemic.
However, we instantly removed our daughter from her weekly baby music classes and stopped regular visits with her nearby grandparents and playdates with other little friends as the risk of COVID-19 grew. It was impossible to explain to a baby what was happening and why, especially as very few adults were even able to understand. The biggest change for her was with screen time—she began seeing (and being seen by) her grandparents and our friends via video chat and FaceTime rather than in person, but honestly, she wasn’t mad about all the opportunities to try to grab our phones.
Back then, she was barely crawling, she had two teeth, and she was just starting to use sign language to communicate things like “more” and “all done.” She was just a curious baby.
When my daughter turned one, instead of the party we’d been planning, we sat outside with some balloons and did our very own cake-smash photo shoot.
As two weeks turned to four, and four weeks turned to eight, we realized that this new life wasn’t just temporary. We started giving my daughter more frequent video calls with family and friends, we attempted to see if she’d sit still long enough for virtual baby classes, and we began trying to get creative in how we could entertain her and foster her development without leaving our house.
When my daughter turned one, instead of the party we’d been planning, we sat outside with some balloons and did our very own cake-smash photo shoot. We sent the photos and videos to family and friends, since they weren’t able to share that day with us.
When the weather got warmer, we invested in a blow-up pool and a splash pad to set up (and tear down) regularly in our shared outdoor space. She loved the water, and we felt heartache that we couldn’t bring her to the pool or share those moments of her joy with her grandparents.
When my daughter started walking, we FaceTimed everyone we knew. We so desperately wanted them to be involved in her growth and milestones, even if it wasn’t safe for them to be inside our home with us.
With each new moment and chapter in my toddler’s life, we’re working hard to find creative ways to parent—from keeping her busy and encouraging exploration to preventing stranger danger and never really having a break—and I’d be lying if I said it was anything other than exhausting. We continually discuss in our house what this winter will look like, where we may feel comfortable taking her, masked, and how we will continue to keep her busy and happy at home.
Although Illinois moved to Phase 4 of its reopening and additional safety measures were lifted at the end of June, our quarantine life has not yet changed. Because we struggle with compromised immune systems, are trying to conceive a second child, have a vast amount of public health knowledge, and are frustrated by the people choosing not to wear masks and social distance, returning to our routines still feels unsafe. We are still limiting trips out of the house to a weekly visit to the grocery store and doctor’s visits. Everything else is done masked and outside, six feet apart from others, or virtually (including shopping online and FaceTime with friends).
We’ve watched many friends and family members resume things like outdoor restaurant dining, backyard hangs, and trips to Target, and we’ve continually talked about the feelings those activities stir up for us. On one hand, the restrictions that we’ve been living with are so unnatural, to everyone really. I can’t tell you how much I personally miss hugging without thinking twice! And the strain of those restrictions, mentally and emotionally, has been significant, not just for us but, I’d venture to say, universally. On the other hand, I know I’m not alone in saying that I constantly feel anxious about easing up on those restrictions, and what that could mean for my family’s risk of getting COVID-19.
My heart ached watching them interact with my daughter, their only grandchild to date, trying so hard not to touch her or kiss her or pick her up.
The first time I went back through the Starbucks drive-through, I accepted my drink wearing gloves and wiped it down with sanitizer before touching it directly. The first time I saw my parents during quarantine, we all wore masks, were outside, and sat far enough away from each other that we had to shout to share our thoughts. We were so afraid of doing anything to hurt each other. My heart ached watching them interact with my daughter, their only grandchild to date, trying so hard not to touch her or kiss her or pick her up.
Over time, we’ve had so many conversations with them and others about these restrictions. Today, we’re more than seven months into quarantine life, and we’ve allowed a bit of flexibility into our routine. Food and beverage pickup doesn’t feel so scary and happens regularly, without gloves or wipes. Packages don’t all get wiped down anymore. Visits with my parents are still outside, but they aren’t masked, and they’re hands-on with my daughter. My parents are maintaining the same quarantine rules in their homes that we are, including limiting external trips and outside contact. It’s difficult for us all, but it remains necessary for now.
This is still so far from the world we used to live in, but for my heart and my mental health, I’ve had to work through some of my opposing feelings about parenting during this time. Obviously, this is not what any of us imagined for this season of our lives, but we’re adapting the best we can with the information we have about this global pandemic.
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