Fourteen weeks. We finally made it to fourteen weeks.
The same morning I woke up to my pregnancy app congratulating me on surviving my first trimester, I woke up to a news feed filled with fear. The kind of fear that seeps under doorways + lines your pockets so that whenever you go to grab something out of them, fear comes tumbling out too.
The Coronavirus has been on the tip of every tongue and the top of every newsfeed for days, and each day comes with more restrictions and more stories of people getting sick or else going crazy panic buying and fighting over toilet paper.
This week has been a whirlwind in the worst sort of way. The chaotic and messy sort that leaves you out of breath, your shoes and clothes muddy. That breeds selfishness and leaves grocery store shelves eerily empty.
In three days we went from no groups or events larger than 250, to no gatherings at all. From simply recommendations to mandates, enforceable by fines or jail time.
We went from social distancing, to all non-essential businesses shutting down. To an order of “shelter in place” for those of us who fall into the “non-essential” category.
We went from two weeks of this, to now what could be months before kids are back in school and life returns to some semblance of normal.
As is always the case, God reveals things in the depths of chaos and uncertainty, and the thing that He has reminded me lately is this:
Normality is a blessing. The thing we call boring, and strive to get away from becomes the thing that we crave when everything feels chaotic and uncertain and hard.
Fear has been so much more than a four letter word lately. It’s been the thing that keeps us up at night. That makes us panic in ways we haven’t in years. It grips our chest and squeezes tight, making it hard to breath. And of course, that just leads to more fear because our first collective thought has become “I’m having trouble breathing- I definitely have the corona virus.”
And most of us are afraid- whether your fear is for your health or someone else’s, or completely unrelated to health at all. Whether it’s your job situation or your rent being due in two weeks. Or maybe just the deep + vulnerable fear that won’t be able to feed your family because you’re barely scraping by as is. Maybe you’re afraid because you’re on the frontline of this as a medical professional, putting your life and your families life at risk to take care of other people. Maybe you have a medically fragile child, and a normal cold is enough to warrant a hospital visit. Maybe like me, you’re pregnant, and terrified for your unborn child and the world they’re being born into.
For the first time in my life I am making a grocery list knowing full well that the items on it may or may not be on the shelves when I get there. And I don’t mean just the brands I’m looking for. I don’t mean just the organic options. I mean the basics like eggs, or bananas, or rice. In any brand, or any portion. It is not a reality I have ever had to consider before, and for the first time in my life I am realizing how deeply I took it for granted that I could go to the grocery store and have options. That there was almost always multiple variations of the item I was looking for. And no matter what there was always enough.
I haven’t had panic attacks for a long time, but grocery shopping a week ago (right when the panic really started to hit) I felt the familiar fear well up inside my chest, staring at the empty shelf where rice used to be. I felt my breath become shallow + my head start to spin. I literally had to leave the store and go to my car while my husband checked out because I needed to breathe + be able to pray and calm down.
Whatever fear you’re feeling right now, know that you aren’t alone in this.
And I also want to say this if you’re one of the few people not afraid: To not be afraid right now is a privilege. To not feel a single ounce of fear given everything going on puts you in a very small category, and you should be thanking God that you feel like you can survive this unscathed.
But make no mistake, to live your life in a way that reflects how untouchable you feel is nothing short of selfish.
Social distancing and quarantine may be inconvenient and boring for the people who aren’t concerned about getting sick, but it is a life saving measure for those of us who don’t have the luxury not to worry.
We have to stay home. No trips out that are not absolutely necessary, and even then, we must act with caution.
It is our best line of defense, and the best option for those of us who are not on the frontline fighting this (medical staff/ grocery workers/ truck drivers, and anyone else currently giving us the best fighting chance at not having mass casualties.)
And for those of us in the high risk category like myself, it is literally our only option.
I’m officially on day four of being quarantined and each day I have gotten out of bed, gotten dressed, and searched for some semblance of normal in my new day to day. It’s one thing to choose to stay home. It’s another entirely to have that choice made for you. To feel the overwhelming weight in that lack of choice. In all transparency, it’s a really scary time to be pregnant. To be preparing to bring life into the world, not knowing what that world will look like. It’s a really scary time to be anything though. Each day I have ricocheted between hope and fear, peace and anxiety.
And all the while my sweet baby has grown safely deep beneath my skin, blissfully unaware of the chaotic world around it. A world that I pray softens before I go into labor in September.
But here is what I know to be true.
Despite everything going on, God is still good. He is still the one in control. Still faithful. Still sovereign. He has not left or forsaken us.
Even in the darkness, I have seen His goodness played out in the acts of strangers and the kindness of friends alike.
I have been consistently reminded of how lucky I am to have a roof over my head, enough food to eat, and so many options in my day to day life. Even in the deepest chaos I have ever lived through, there are beautiful silver linings.
Let this be a reminder to all of us to be intentional. To check in with our friends. To spend quality time with our families. To be grateful for what we do have, because as we’ve seen, even those things are not guaranteed. Everything can shift in an instant, and while we all get used to this new normal, I pray that we can lean into (and lets be honest- search for) the sweetness in it.
Slow down. Read books. Talk to God. Talk to your kids. Learn how to bake fresh bread. Soak in the smell of the rain and the way that the world looks when we are not racing a million miles a minute to be busy and productive.
This season won’t last forever, and it isn’t without its struggles and its fear, but it isn't without its joy either.