Well here we are, four days away from my due date. Going for my longest pregnancy here with my third? Wouldn’t have guessed it but, alas, babies always make their own schedule. 

As per usual, it’s been chaos. With the arrival of my mom from another province, and BB1 starting school, we’re experiencing our 1656th illness of the year. And again, as usual, the pregnant lady gets hit the hardest. No one warns you about how hard it is to care for sick babies when you’re so sick yourself.

It all started with COVID in October of last year. Just in time for Halloween, my oldest’s favourite holiday. He has been anticipating it for months, running around while the sun was still high and hot in his Sonic costume. Then BOOM, COVID. No trick or treating for us. it was going to be BB2’s first time out. We decorated and left candy in bowls for other kids; went to bed early.

The Year We Were Sick

Since then, it’s been a rotating series of colds and flus. Viral pink eye was the worst by far. Three solid weeks on the couch. As someone who almost never saw the doctor before, we are quite familiar with them now. Dragging my kids in to last minute appointments. Surely something’s wrong? Do we need antibiotics? How can we still be this sick? “It will pass,” he says. “It’s a virus; let it run its course.” Not that it matters. The pharmacists have warned us of the medicine shortage anyway. Passing us bottles of homeopathic medicine instead of what they would ‘normally recommend’. “Try this,” they say. “It may help.” We thank them and carry on.

It’s been almost a full year since COVID and I can probably count on my hands the number of weeks we’ve been well. I am nervous about bringing a new babe into this environment. The non stop coughing and runny noses. I’m nervous about RSV, new COVID variants… even the run of the mill cold and flus are anxiety inducing these days. How much hand sanitizing/washing, changing clothes, wiping noses, Lysol-ing door handles can one do? It doesn’t really feel like it makes a difference. Would those handful of well-weeks be less if I haven’t been doing these things? It doesn’t feel like it.

My cough now keeps BB2 up at night. But he’s still not feeling well himself, so he won’t sleep alone either. How can I leave him to birth when he’s not sleeping without me? Will my husband and mom be able to comfort him when he’s having his toughest moments at 2 am? He’s a spicy one, this soon-to-be middle child. 

I guess the worries of a mom never truly end. I’m texting a friend now about the transition from a crib to a real bed. Sleep worries. Wellness checks. Another friend messages me a photo of her and her newborn on the way home from the hospital – after a long stay they’re finally going home! I’m so happy for them. But I see another message about a friend and her one year old waiting in the emergency room – breathing problems; inhalers. Stories of a sister whose pregnancy isn’t going as planned.  We’re in it now aren’t we? So much to celebrate, and so much to struggle with. I can’t ever think of a time where I’ve felt like I’m taking on so much and yet doing so little? How is that possible? Home all day. “Just a stay at home mom.” Making lunches, doing laundry, making appointments. Don’t forget BB2 needs another trip to the dentist. They said to wait to make a follow up appointment until things are settled with the new baby. I chuckled. We don’t have time to wait for such things. We take the moments of calm when they come. We bask in the sun while it shines, which has been rare this year, but it feels so good when it’s here. The well-weeks. Who knows how long it will last? Don’t speak of it, lest it disappear on acknowledgment. Let me close my eyes and soak it in for a moment longer, before I turn back into the chaos.