Hidden Blessings of Delivering in a Pandemic

Delivering during coronavirus has been something plenty of moms have lamented about already, but delivering a baby you will have to say goodbye to during coronavirus had its own complications and griefs as well. 

Because of covid, I was only allowed one person with me in labor and delivery (L&D) and so that meant that our doulas could not be there. While I am incredibly grateful that at least Vinayak was allowed to be there with me, it was an unpleasant adjustment we had to make as the whole point of us hiring doulas in the beginning was so that Vinayak and I could process the emotions of meeting and saying goodbye to our son while our doulas helped me in the process of managing all the potential complexities, uncertainties, and the pain of labor, giving Vinayak the ability to rest and focus on supporting me emotionally. Given our labor and delivery, I am still incredibly grateful for hiring our doulas who Vinayak was able to text and call throughout labor, but it would have been much less stressful on Vinayak if they had been there in person. Even though I was allowed one support person in L&D, we were still stressed the months leading up to Mirari’s birth because if Vinayak developed any covid-like symptoms, they would not allow him to be there and it’d have been incredibly devastating if Vinayak didn’t get the chance to meet and hold Mirari as soon as he was delivered.

Because of covid, no visitors are allowed after your baby is born either, and while this holds for pretty much all hospitals across the US, this was really difficult for me as we knew the most likely scenario was that Mirari would pass away in the hospital. While hospitals do have end-of-life exceptions for visitors, they did not for our case because we would be in the L&D ward. So what that meant was no family member other than Vinayak and me would get to meet Mirari in person or hold him, and the photographer we had been planning to have there for Mirari’s birth would also not be allowed.  Both of those were a loss – there was much sadness in the days following the new protocols over the fact that our baby’s grandparents, uncles, and aunts would not get to meet him and hold him, ever, and that all the hopes I had for having beautiful and professional photos to capture and remember the precious, limited time we had with Mirari were gone. It sucked, to say the least.  

But we worked with what we had to, and looking back, I’ve realized that despite the difficulties and new “losses” due to covid, there were also hidden blessings that revealed the incredible love people had for us that we may have not seen or simply taken for granted if it were not for covid. 

Because our doulas couldn’t be there, I saw an incredible new side to Vinayak. While Vinayak has always been stellar at taking care of and advocating for me and Mirari, I saw it even more during our labor and delivery. In the 3 days we were in the hospital, he barely slept because he was always hyper-aware of how I was doing. Every time I woke up, he’d also be up to see if I needed help with anything. Even sometimes when I had made zero noise, he’d ask, “did you say something?”, so I knew that even while he was resting, his mind was constantly on me. He was intent on making sure Mirari and I were getting the best care and recommendation each step of the way. He’d check in with our doulas constantly to update them as well as ask for their opinions on what the doctors suggested for us each step of the way. Every time the nurses came in to check on me and adjust the pitocin, Vinayak would watch them and make sure they were adjusting the pitocin only by safe amounts for Mirari and me. He took initiative and asked for a change of nurse when we weren’t connecting well with one of ours. On entering the hospital, the protocol is usually to put an IV immediately, but Vinayak was able to advocate for not putting an IV in me until absolutely necessarily. This was a huge blessing as we later found out that we’d have to do a second Cook balloon (which takes 12 hours and does not need an IV) and could not be on pitocin yet.  So instead of having to adjust to the discomforts of both the Cook balloon and the IV, I was able to just adjust to one and get a good night’s rest the first night, which was incredibly helpful as we had no idea we’d be there for so long. I only found out later that because Vinayak was constantly worried that I’d be left by myself and have no one to care for me if he were to get sick, he’d been taking Tylenol throughout those three days so as to minimize the physical symptoms he was having due to the stress and lack of rest he was getting in the hospital. It was really hard for Vinayak to watch me be in so much pain (he would later tell me that at the hardest point for me, he was tempted to simply ask the doctors to perform a cesarean, get the baby out, and end the pain), but he never let on how stressed or helpless he felt, but stayed calm and strong through the most stressful part of our labor where he not only encouraged and supported me through each painful contraction and the feelings of disappointment I had over not progressing despite the hours of painful contractions, but also figured out with our doulas and our nurse what the right next step was for me. When we finally got to the pushing stage, Vinayak would constantly rotate among encouraging me through each push, hydrating me through each break, managing the different nurses and doctors that were coming in to introduce themselves (we had NICU nurses and doctors who were ready outside waiting for our baby), and applying counter-pressure to my hips that felt like they were literally coming apart after each push. It was amazing to watch him, so much that even our midwife and labor nurse commented how incredible he was and voluntarily took pictures of us while he was pretty much holding my hips together between pushes.

My dad was so intent on meeting and holding Mirari that he used the loophole he found in the system to get himself into L&D and was happily able to have some time with his grandson. Unknown to us, my dad, who is a pastor, had called our nurse and told her that he was our pastor and was coming to support us. Fortunately, for end of life scenarios, spiritual rites and beliefs are very much respected and so our nurse of course happily agreed and he rushed over.  Our nurse then came to our room and said “your pastor just called and is on his way”, and Vinayak and I looked at each other absolutely confused because we had already decided in our birth plan we wouldn’t be inviting our pastors but would be reading the Bible and praying with Mirari on our own.  After a few minutes and after Vinayak checked his phone and saw my dad had texted him asking if it’s okay that he was on his way to the hospital, we finally realized it was my dad.  It was incredibly touching to me to see that my dad was so intent on meeting and holding Mirari that he made a way for himself to be there.  In fact, we had known that we could have asked to have him there as our pastor in our birth plan, but Vinayak and I had decided not to because we did not want to risk him getting covid from coming to the hospital, but once Mirari was born, my dad was so excited and intent on seeing his grandson in person and holding him that he came anyway.  The extra efforts and risks that my dad chose to make and take to simply see his grandson was something we would not have been able to appreciate without covid. 

When we knew we wouldn’t be able to have the photographer, we packed Vinayak’s DSLR and charged our phones, and prayed that we’d have some kind nurses who would help us capture family photos and help us with making some keepsakes to take home.  A few days after we had come home, I wistfully mentioned to Vinayak that though I’m glad we had taken all these photos of Mirari on our own, I wish we had had videos and photos of our time with Mirari as soon as he was born and placed on me. There was so much going on in the first 10 minutes after Mirari was born, with us just trying to hold and talk to him and doctors trying to evaluate how he was doing, that we simply had no time to remember to ask someone to take photos and videos for us. However, surprisingly, Vinayak said that our nurse had taken videos and photos for us! I was shocked. We hadn’t even thought to ask her to in all the busyness, and Vinayak doesn’t even remember giving her his phone, but she had, somewhere in all the chaos, taken Vinayak’s phone and helped us capture such precious videos and photos of those initial first few minutes when we held Mirari.  She even, at the end of her shift, gave me and Vinayak a hug – something so simple that we took for granted before covid, but that meant volumes during covid. The nurse that took care of us after that nurse’s shift ended helped us with making all the keepsakes.  She was incredibly kind and happily helped with making all the keepsakes we had hoped to have, including a somewhat complicated 3D mold of Mirari’s foot. When you don’t get to bring your baby home, every little thing you can have of him is of incalculable value, from the photos and videos to the handprints and 3D molds, and to experience the considerateness, thoughtfulness, and kindness of our nurses in helping us not only make the most of our time with Mirari, but help us have lasting ways to remember him by, was something Vinayak and I would not have had the blessing of experiencing without the restrictions implemented due to covid. 

This pandemic has made us realize how much we had taken for granted. Life may not go back to normal for a long time, and new adjustments to our lifestyles may have to be continually made.  Everyday I see people lamenting the effects of the pandemic – unemployment, inability to see friends and family, isolation, etc. It’s really hard; everyone’s experiencing grief of some sort, but what I’ve realized is that even in this frustrating and difficult time, beauty and blessings can still be found, there still is so much good even in the midst of the bad, and, maybe because of the bad, people’s love and kindness are shining even brighter.