I’ve thought about writing this post a million times, but since we were IN it, it felt like maybe I should wait. Until it was over. Now I’m beginning to wonder if it ever will be over. And the before time, it’s so far away now, that it’s hard to remember.
So here is a very messy, probably very long, in between post about this pandemic we’re living through. Because some day our kids might ask. Because it’s probably not a bad idea to write down some memories. To reflect on the craziness. I’m going to break it up into sections - it probably won’t make it any shorter, but maybe easier for me to write.
The Before Days
There was a time when I used to commute into Boston 5 days a week. I’d wake up, shower, get ready, and be out the door in 25 minutes. I’d drive on two different interstates to get to the train station, where I’d get on one of the first trains of the day. I’d ride the orange line into the city and transfer to the red if it was cold or rainy, or walk across the city if it was nice. Sometimes I’d stop for coffee or cut through South Station on the way to my office building. I dressed up, put on make up and wore high heels. I went to meetings with anywhere from 5 to 100 people in the same room as me. I got my lunch somewhere in the city, and would occasionally do some shopping on my lunch break. All before heading home to pick up my children from daycare. There was never enough time to get laundry done, clean the house, or cook dinner. It felt like we were never in our house. Even on the weekends we’d go somewhere. In February 2020, the mall was our new favorite place to go. We’d go to the playspace there, or just go and grab lunch. We went and took pictures with bunnies there. Playgrounds, stores, McDonalds. We went places. And it all feels so foreign and weird now.
First Signs of Trouble
I’ve always paid attention to the news. I watched it almost daily on TV, and I read it non stop during the day at work. So of course I was reading about Covid19 before most people were paying attention to it. At first I was analytical and taking comfort in every bit of good data I could find, but it quickly turned to panic. It was spreading fast, and as an actuary that studies pandemics, I knew there was no avoiding it. It was coming, maybe already here.
The worst part of those days was not knowing how it was spread. I remember sitting at my desk at work; it was on a large open floor with people everywhere. I felt like the air was infected and everything I touched would make me sick. They put out hand sanitizer and Lysol wipes on every desk, and I used them incessantly.
We had a trip to Florida coming up, and I really didn’t want to get sick before the trip. I was watching others still go on their vacations, so I was pretty sure we would too, and I figured I’d wipe down everything we touched, everywhere we went. As the trip got closer, though, panic increased. There was a large outbreak at a convention not far from my office building. I was getting angry that they still expected us to come into the office every day, when I knew we could work from home.
On March 4th, daycare changed their fever policy to send home any child with a fever over 100.5 (previously 101). Anyone who had traveled outside the US was supposed to quarantine for 14 days. I remember getting mad at a VP in the office who’s daughter had just returned from a semester abroad in Italy, cut short. After enough complaints, it was decided he should also be at home. March 7th we had a playdate with our friends - I wasn’t worried about seeing people I knew, so much as I was worried about being at work with people I didn’t know or trust. Later I would be so glad we’d gotten in this one last playdate.
March 9th was my last day I worked in the office in Boston (although I didn’t know it at the time). Looking back at pictures from that day is painful - I’m all dressed up from being in the office, the weather was nice and we played outside after I picked E & G up at daycare. The next day G woke up with a fever (which E later caught), so both kids stayed home with me. I already worked from home Tuesdays and Wednesdays back then, so my boss told me to stay home for the rest of the week. Between the fever and the fact we were supposed to leave for Florida the following week, he told me to stay home and he’d see me when I got back from vacation…
On March 12th most Boston companies told employees to go home, including both of the ones Tom and I work for. Some said for two weeks, some said a few months. Mine made it clear it was going to be at least a month or two. Later that day, daycare announced it was closing for two weeks, starting the next Monday. I remember panicking a bit (mostly about having the kids at home for so long) but I was relieved that we’d be in Florida for half of it. We sent the kids to daycare on the 13th, but I think it closed early that day. Both Tom and I went to pick up the kids (since we were working from home anyway) and I remember the building being swarmed with parents. Some were taking all of their stuff home, but we told them not to worry - we had extra winter gear at home, so we could leave their snowpants. (We eventually had to go pick them up months later, since daycare was still closed and the snow had long melted. We signed up for a time slot and a staff member came out and put everything in your trunk. No contact!)
It was mournful in the building. Two weeks felt like an eternity as all the children said goodbye to their friends and teachers. We carried a gallon of milk home with us, as the staff was emptying out the kitchens as we left.
Home Quarantine
I refer to March 16th as day one. We had no daycare, a one and a two year old (and the one year old wasn’t even walking yet!) and Tom and I were both expected to work full time from home. We made a schedule that split our time hour by hour. Who was working and who was entertaining the children. Neither of us had a minute of free time, yet we continued like this for MONTHS.
We did everything possible to distract ourselves. We made playdough and had indoor gym time. We made Jell-O jigglers and did waterplay in Tupperware. We built forts and did arts and crafts. Neither of our children watched any TV at this time, so that wasn’t an option. It was just go go go. Our daycare tried to stay in touch with daily emails with videos and activity ideas, and we even had weekly video calls where the kids could socialize with their classmates. Which went about as well as you’d expect with a bunch of toddlers.
Things also got weird around this time with empty shelves at the store. We were already scared that going to the store would get you sick, and suddenly you couldn’t find toilet paper (or any paper products really). I turned my anxiety online, and spent hours a day searching for things we needed. Toilet paper, hand sanitizer, Lysol wipes, etc. I’d brought some hand sanitizer home from work when I left, but it became such a commodity. We were Lysol-ing down everything that came into our house - groceries, package.. anything that wasn’t wiped down was put in quarantine for 3 days. At the time we thought that the virus would die off after 3 days, so it was safe to open our mail then. We had rotating piles so Tom would know when it was safe to touch which pile.
It wasn’t just those things though. Suddenly the entire peanut butter aisle would be empty, or there would be no cereal. You never knew what it was going to be. All it would take was one outbreak at a manufacturing plant or with some truck drivers and suddenly an entire product would disappear for weeks.
It was confusing for the toddlers too. I remember them asking why we were home, and why they weren’t going to daycare. You’d often hear E talk about “Boston is closed!” At first we tried to shield them from it, but that easier to do with a 2 year old who stays home from school. Eventually when you have an almost 5 year old who has to wear masks everywhere, you have to tell them something. We talk about germs and not getting sick, and it becomes normal life.
Mostly I got through the early days, because I had prepared myself for it being longer than two weeks. Still, I couldn’t imagine it going past Easter (April 12th). And yet we did. I attended meetings with my kids sitting on my lap, and met my co-workers pets and family. G turned 15 months, and then took his first steps on March 25th. We went for walks in fields far away from people, because everyone outside our house seemed dangerous. Our friend Olivia turned one and we did a virtual birthday party for her on Zoom. I took ‘no days of school’ pictures because I didn’t know what else to do. We never knew how long it would last. Daycare would extend its closing for weeks or a month at a time. Our employers told us we were home until further notice.
Online shopping was already a thing, but suddenly it became the only thing. It was the only way to get anything you needed and I went all in. When it became clear that we’d be home for Easter, I spend a few days ordering things to stock Easter baskets. Then to be safe I ordered decorations and all the presents for E’s birthday party.
We continued this way through the first half of the summer. We had finally seen my parents for Elliot’s birthday in May. Two weeks was the accepted isolation time, so we figured if no one had gone anywhere or seen anyone in the previous two weeks, we were both safe and could see each other. Everyone started talking about things like bubble and pods. You were only supposed to see people in your own circle. Anyone else was dangerous. We’d only go grocery shopping once every two weeks, and we were still wiping everything down. Tom would drive to get my coffee and would use a Lysol wipe on the coffee cup before giving it to me.
The masks were confusing too. At first we didn’t need them. And then almost immediately you needed one to leave your house. I got my sewing machine out and tried to copy patterns I’d found online. I cut up old shirts, onesies, anything to make a mask. I couldn’t go to a store, so it was whatever I had in my (fortunately well stocked) craft room. Eventually we were home long enough that I ordered masks online and then we wore those. And then we ordered more for the kids. It was over a year later before people started talking about quality of masks, and so we’d upgrade to KN95s
Sometimes it felt like the world was rallying together. We’d draw supportive messages in chalk or hang Easter eggs in windows or along our fence so that we could do egg hunts from the safety of our cars. And sometimes it felt so isolating. Looking back, this part of the pandemic was the least scary part (since we were mostly safe at home), but it was the hardest. No support, no babysitters, no daycare, no friends. Just us and two toddlers all the time.
Still, life continued. We took “front porch pictures” where a photographer would come and photograph you from 10 feet away. You’d step outside in your quarantine clothes and capture a moment in time. G started to talk more, E turned 3 and our kitty died on the same day. We occasionally video chatted with friends or family, but it was exhausting and a lot of Vermont doesn’t have internet or cell service good enough to video chat. We sent mail to people we missed, baked a lot, and I did puzzles because my brain was too anxious to watch TV or read anymore.
Living in a Pandemic
Eventually, we decided to send E and G back to daycare. It had been open for about a month, but we still weren’t sure if it was safe. No one was sure what the right decision was. I had one friend who had sent her children as soon as daycares opened back up, out of necessity. I had another who refused to send hers back, and lasted another 9 months before making the decision to send him again. We waited until after a trip to Vermont so we would minimize risk in seeing my parents (we also stayed at an airbnb that trip, and spent most of our time outside or with doors open).
It seemed like life was going to be a constant steam of choices and weighing what was safer. We probably shouldn’t go to the mall to see Santa but maybe we can do out door Christmas lights at the zoo. Seeing family was at the top of our list, so that was pretty much the only thing we did.
Life became “normal” as we continued as much as we could. Some days we were more worried than others. Some days we’d have an outdoor playdate with friends, or I’d attempt a masked visit to Target. The kids both wore masks to daycare and everyone carried hand sanitizer everywhere they went. We learned that it was less about what you touch and more about the air you breathe, so we stopped wiping down groceries and bought air filters instead.
Other times we’d hunker down at home again. The scariest part (so far) was early 2021 when I was newly pregnant and vaccines were not yet available for us. Every day we’d watch the news, hoping for a sign that they were coming soon. I knew that I was at high risk, and we were never sure if getting pregnant in a pandemic was the right decision or would end up being a huge mistake. I attended prenatal appointments masked and alone. Getting the vaccine was a huge relief, but was soon replaced with the fear of having a newborn in a pandemic. Three unvaccinated children in a pandemic. We’re still waiting for when they can get vaccinated and we can let out another breath that we’ve been holding for as long as we can remember.
Will there ever be a point when we’re not worried? We have family and friends who have died from this virus, and we have others that have recovered. My friend who kept her son home when everyone else had gone back to daycare continued to be my most risk adverse friend. So it seemed completely unfair when her family caught it at a point when they were all high risk. They recovered, thankfully, but then the anger sets in. Were our sacrifices worth it? Did we miss out on so much life just to get the virus anyway? Can we ever really be safe?
The people refusing the vaccine cause a lot of anger too. People who have vaccinated themselves and their kids against polo and the measles are suddenly refusing one over politics. If I was willing to get vaccinated while pregnant (I was even in a medical study which tracked the outcome of my pregnancy and proved the vaccine did not cause any adverse reactions to babies), but they refused a vaccine that could help end a pandemic. I don’t know how to be civil to people like that anymore.
That’s where we are today. Are we safe? What level or risk should we accept? What should we skip and miss out on? Will we be okay if we get it? From day one, my biggest fear has been trying to parent little children when both Tom and I were too sick to get out of bed. What happens then, I wonder? There’s no one to come help - not with a virus this scary. And then there’s the “long Covid” as we’re calling it for now. I know multiple people living with symptoms more than a year after catching the virus. Even at work we talk often about how this will affect the mortality for the products we sell. There’s so much unknown living through a pandemic. So much information to sift through, unsure who to trust and what to do. And so much anger.
We’ve been lucky up to this point, and I’m beginning to think it’s that - luck. If a family that stayed safer than us caught it, why haven’t we? I’m afraid to push publish on this post mostly because I’m sure we’ll come down with it immediately after. How much should we be living vs staying home? Is it selfish to go out when others can’t, or is it silly to stay home when no one else is. I suppose we’ll only know looking back…
