Durban: When the first case of Covid-19 was announced in South Africa, I was pregnant with my second child. A girl.
I was tired, more so after having suffered hyperemesis gravidarum, a condition that causes severe nausea and vomiting that leads to dehydration. I literally thought it couldn’t really get worse.
But I was wrong. What would unfold in the next few months was anything beyond my wildest imagination.
A pandemic that would change the entire world we live in.
On March 15, 2020, the day President Cyril Ramaphosa declared a national state of disaster, I was seven months pregnant.
A hard lockdown, the president ordered - remain at home and only leave if you absolutely have too.
But for me, a million questions were going through my mind: What if I get covid at this part of my pregnancy? Where would I deliver my baby because hospitals were a no-go zone? I panicked.
People also began frantically messaging me. I didn’t have the answers. No one did.
But like anything in life, we took it one day at a time, waiting for people in authority to guide us on the way forward.
I took extra care, never left the house unnecessarily, only for gynae appointments and continued to work from home.
The hospital I was all set to have my baby in had been closed due to increased covid infections at the time.
The day I was set to have my baby on May 26, armed with a negative covid test for me and my husband, I went into theatre alone. If it had not been for my amazing gynae, I would have been a nervous wreck.
No one wants to really deliver their baby alone, but we do what we must.
My husband was allowed to briefly see our daughter after the birth, and he was not allowed any hospital visits.
It was all a very clinical process.
I guess we clung onto the other women in the hospital for support, sharing the same plight.
There were no flowers delivered to the hospital or your mom bringing in your favourite curry that you had been waiting to eat for almost nine months after the unabating nausea.
There was no fanfare when I arrived home from the hospital. We relied on technology to stay connected with family and friends.
As my dearest daughter approaches her second birthday, I can’t help but be in awe of everything we have overcome.
My daughter’s existence is how I recall what I have overcome in the past two years. Even me being infected with Covid-19 when she was six months old.
She has grown up in a different world. Hasn’t met many family members. Hasn’t socialised much and is so used to seeing people with face masks.
But I hope it's this kind of tenacity that takes her through life and ensures she can overcome anything.
And you know what, I think that goes for every one of us.
IOL