Life during Corona: Week 2

Well, that's two weeks down. I read somewhere that a lady in Italy said that it takes until day 15 to get used to the lock down. Yea, we'll see.

As for this week, the kids kept asking about going back to gan and when corona was going to be over. Even my 2yo took her little Duplo suitcase, walked toward the door, and said, NOA! NOONA! (her two friends at gan). When I sadly told her that we couldn't go anywhere, her eyes got huge, her little mouth turned downwards cartoon-style and tears threatened. Poor girl.

Overall, the kids were a little better this week though my 4yo continued his bathroom regression. Believe it or not, the 6yo became a much better listener and seemed to mature some. Perhaps it was all our pillow talk from last week about the science of corona. The toddler helped wash dishes (granted, it was the same bamboo cup for an hour, but still) and even set the breakfast counter for her and her brothers when they didn't want to. Every other time, she needed to sit on my lap and snuggle.


We visited an online aquarium, the NY Museum of Natural History, and I subscribed to IXL for the boys. Now that was what we call 'WEP' (worth every penny). The first day I opened it on my laptop, they sat with me for an hour and half and had fun with math, letters, and the 6yo did some second grade science and social studies. Physically, they did some workouts with my husband as well as some cosmic yoga.

Though the kids seemed relatively 'okay,' we, the adults, were not.

It started to deteriorate during the week. I felt like I was cooking and/or baking every day. I've tried watching positive videos, but each one made me cry, missing "normal."

We started getting on each other's nerves, I was full-body exhausted daily and my husband was short on patience (okay, I was, too). I cleaned poop almost every morning. My next ultrasound was cancelled. I couldn't get away, I couldn't reduce my anxiety level, I couldn't get any alone time, and I couldn't calm down. I was cleaning daily, but it didn't seem to matter. Each day felt like a week and I didn't know what day it was.

Though it was really nice to talk to my dad this past week, on Friday, all the tension came to a head. I baked challah for the second consecutive week (though it felt like I had just done this) and after dinner, hubby put the kids to bed. I looked at the kitchen, the living room, and play area, and almost had an anxiety attack about cleanliness.

Then everything blew up.

I sat in bed, tears running down my face. When my husband asked me what was wrong, I tried to keep it civil, but - at best of times - my husband and I, are what you'd call a volcano and a tornado, respectively. At worst of times, well, it's nothing you want to be around. As a result of our fight, Ariel was pretty upset with me (as I was with him) and he voluntarily slept on the couch. I was so upset that, for the first time in my pregnancy, I took a sleeping pill.

Shabbat was quiet between us; the kids kept playing and, as far as I know, didn't notice too much. Honestly, they likely would have asked us what was going on and I already had an answer prepared. I've mentioned to them before that friends and family fight sometimes, but it doesn't mean they don't love, like, and/or respect each other. I was even anticipating the question. But this time, this day - they didn't ask. So we were okay.

Only after bedtime started did we talk. Slowly. While he was in with the kids, I started by messaging him to apologize.

I won't get into all the personal details, but you should know that sometimes it's good to chat on Whatsapp and not in person. It's calmer. Much calmer. There are tears, but if you use it wisely and suck up your pride, it works with two hotheads.

Thank goodness.

And on that note, when we finally lay in the same bed again, I thought about week 3 of history in the making.

It should be... interesting. How ironic - that lovely Chinese curse.

Life during Corona: Week 1

Friday, March 20, 2020

We have survived the first week.

My husband, my best friend, my three kids (6yo, 4yo, and 2yo) and I are stuck in our three bedroom apartment in Netanya. The kids are home from school until who-knows-when, hubby is working from home (mostly in the evenings), and I'm working on staying sane and taking care of my kids and the apartment.

The kids have a LOT of energy - did I mention their ages? As predicted, they have had outbursts, big feelings, some regressions, and tantrums, but, for the most part, they've been pretty good considering the circumstances.

We took them outside for a bit twice this week (more than just our balcony) with our new scooters and it was great for them. Their cheeks got pink and flushed and they had huge smiles on their faces.

The rest of the time, we watched science shows (we like Dr. Binocs, among others), worked on a new 500-piece puzzle, drew pictures, played with legos and magnetiles, and read books. I'm sure we did more, but I can't think of it.

Me? I've had some anxiety though not all the time. It usually kicks in after bedtime, when I'm not distracted by the munchkins anymore. When everything slows down again and I have my life and my time to myself.

One morning I was having an especially hard time (Wednesday or Thursday, I believe, who knows what day it is anymore) and my hubby let me shut myself in my room and took care of all three crazies. He brought me coffee and food and I eventually came out after lunchtime.

Yesterday or the day before, we received news from my gynecologist's office that my next ultrasound (at the end of March) is cancelled due the worldwide corona pandemic (I'm currently 26 weeks pregnant). Apparently, that's not essential. I'm not too worried though because all my other tests have come back clear.

And tomorrow is my birthday. My 42nd - where I am the answer to life, the universe, and everything. We were really looking forward to this one.

I've gotten a few birthday wishes already and it's a little weird. Generally, I don't like to answer the phone, but, these days, I'll answer just to hear a familiar voice say, "happy corona birthday!" It was wonderful, but, honestly, it's not feeling like my birthday. Ever since my mom passed, my birthday has been kinda meh, but this year it's reached an entirely new level. It's like it doesn't exist and, honestly, I don't want it to. Like it just won't happen this year. It feels invisible, nonexistent. Like nothing matters.

Saturday, March 21, 2020

Last night, I shared my feelings with my husband, reminding myself that he's not psychic. I tried to downplay it, but the anxiety kicked in hardcore. He wanted to know why I was crying, but it's hard to explain when it's nothing specific. I guess that's why they call it 'generalized' anxiety. I don't really worry about my immediate family here in Israel; I believe our country is handling it pretty well. I do worry about my brother in New York, my sister and her family in Toronto, and my two brothers and their families in Detroit. I worry about my dad, who is 82, and my friends who work in the medical field. I worry about my friends in the automotive sector, those who have been laid off, those who are single parents, those who are still working. There's lot to worry about. I told him how my birthday is just... nonexistent this year. He felt bad, said he ordered gifts for me, but due to corona (F-U corona), they likely won't arrive until the end of next month.

After crying, we held hands and fell asleep.

This morning, I slept in (always a big deal to a sleep deprived, sleep disordered, six-month pregnant mother of three). Hubby took care of the kids and around 11am; I woke up slowly. My husband came in and asked if I was going back to sleep or waking up. "Waking up," I said.

About ten minutes later, after I overheard some brief instruction to my 4yo to not bother me, everyone knocked and came in with a (high chair) tray of food (and a screwdriver, care of the 4yo), a mug of coffee, a lego crown (care of the 6yo), singing happy birthday, and to top it off, my BFF gave me a wonderful, pampering gift.

In my life, to my recollection, I have never had breakfast brought to me in bed. It was amazing.

Suddenly, I was lighter. A million times lighter. And a thousand times happier. Here were the most important people in my life, showing me love, happiness, and comfort. I smiled a huge smile.

I enjoyed my breakfast, drank my hot coffee, and read a book. Luxurious.

I felt renewed. After that, we all spent the day together, and that night, my amazing husband cooked us a chuck steak slathered in garlic (there is no such thing as too much), roasted potatoes, and garlic bread. The picture below really doesn't do it justice, but it was amazing.

With this day, my husband really resurrected my birthday... and my mood. Onto week 2.

Flutters of a Rainbow

January 30, 2020

Yesterday, we went in for our amniocentesis. I've been nervous about this for a while since there is a chance, though very small, of a miscarriage or injury to myself and the baby as a result of the procedure. I also run small in my pregnancies and, again, I have an anterior placenta (in the front) so that also adds challenge to the procedure.

Why was going through with this at all? I think mainly due to my age (I'm 41.9) and the heavy shadow of the last pregnancy. During the course of this pregnancy, we've had some scares. One of my blood tests, in this pregnancy, came back showing parvovirus - but then we learned that there are two results for that virus, one that shows its former presence (i.e. you had it in the past) and another that shows its present status of being in your blood (i.e. you have it right now). After some intense research, we discovered that I had had it in the past, though not currently. But in the time it took to comprehend my test results, my anxiety was through the roof and I was practically in tears on the train (always the train).

For those who don't know, parvovirus is a nasty virus for pregnancy and for all living things. Humans get the human strain (B19) of the tiny disease; it causes 5th disease (erythema infectiosum) in kids and, in 10% (or more) of the cases when pregnant women catch it, it causes hydrops fetalis, mainly due to severe fetal anemia, sometimes leading to miscarriage or stillbirth. Currently, there is no treatment or vaccine, though not for lack of trying.

I have no way of knowing when I actually contracted the virus or if it was one of the contributing factors to my loss. Also, my baby's umbilical cord was attached in the wrong place as well, so parvovirus might not have played any role at all in the loss. In the end, it doesn't really matter, does it?

But I digress. Another reason I was okay with doing the amnio is because my doctor would be the one doing it and after being in Israel for four and a half years, I finally found one I really trusted. He'd do it himself with the team in Assuta in Haifa.

I got especially nervous the week before the procedure but late last week (or early this week), I started feeling tiny little flutters inside my uterus. They are a little hard to describe and the only reason I even recognized them is because this is my fifth pregnancy (so weird to say).

See, some of the hardest times during the whole journey to a baby are: (1) the two week wait to see if you got lucky enough to get pregnant; and (2) the first half of the pregnancy until you actually feel what's growing inside you (medievally named "the quickening").

On our hour-long drive up north, I was kinda quiet. Telling myself that my mom had gone through amnios back in the '70s and '80s and everything turned out fine... that it's statistically more likely that something was wrong with the baby than the baby being hurt by the procedure... that Dr. Feldman knew what he was doing... and suddenly, my husband interrupted and told me to look out his window. And there, shining far out over the Mediterranean Sea, emerging from deep greenish gray clouds, was a beautiful Rainbow, saturated in color (though the picture below really doesn't do it justice).

The whole appointment, including the procedure, took about twenty minutes. That's it. A lot of hospital paper to localize the area and three wipe-downs with a LOT of sanitizing alcohol (so cold!). It probably would have taken even shorter had Rainbow not mooned the doctor.

Seriously.

Baby was facing tushy up when the doctor started using the ultrasound wand to figure out where to stick the needle and showed him a cute, tiny tush. It was quite the comic relief when my good-natured doctor said, with a smile, we don't behave like that!

He continued, pushed the baby around a bit to make room, pushed it around a bit more since it didn't like to cooperate (this kid is going to fit smoothly into my family), and finally found a space to insert the needle and withdraw the yellowish fluid (so much!). After he finished, I felt woozy, like when I donate blood, but worse. I sat there and drank water until the worst of it passed and then I became sickly ravenous.

Afterwards, we immediately went for food. Because I felt so sick, I ate verrrry slowly and we finally left the mall and headed for the car. We got back to Netanya just in time to get the boys, come home, and for me to pass out. Essentially, I slept on and off for the entire next two to two and a half days; I was wiped out.

I finally felt like myself again after the weekend but had a lovely bruise in the area of the procedure - especially wonderful since I have to give myself blood thinning shots every night in the same area. Then I waited, again, for the results which were to take 2-4 weeks.

Seriously.