What it’s like to get COVID-19 with a new baby by Jessica Weiss
Introduction
Last year the world stopped and our worlds as we knew it changed with the emergence of COVID-19. In February, Jessica, her partner, and her four month old baby tested positive for COVID. She recounts the fear, her experience as a breastfeeding parent, and the amazing impact that community care can give. Jessica Weiss is a journalist and editor currently working at the University of Maryland. She is the creator of The Flow Down, a podcast all about periods. Learn more at jessicaleeweiss.com.
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After a year spent living in fear of Covid-19, in February it hit our family. It started with my husband, Juan. On Valentine’s Day, he got the sniffles. Then, a headache and sore throat. Afew days later, I woke up hot and felt like my head was in a cloud. The thermometer read 100.4.
We rushed to get rapid tests, and they both came back positive. I was shocked and distraught.As new parents to a four-month-old, we had taken extreme precautions to avoid contracting Covid-19: we worked from home, were always double masked when outside our apartment, had our groceries delivered and could count on one hand the number of people we’d seen in the months since the birth of our son, Amos. (As I write this two months later, we still have no clue how we got Covid.)
The night we found out, I cried and cried. I worried how the illness would play out for Juan and me, of course, but most of all I feared what it would mean for our sweet baby. Experts suggest that mothers who have Covid-19 or have symptoms should be isolated from others, including from an infant, to reduce the risk of transmission. But there was no way we could do that. We live in a one-bedroom apartment and I breastfeed. A nurse at Children’s instructed us to do the next best thing and wear masks around Amos for 10 days and avoid kissing and cuddling him. Given that we both tested positive, we assumed that he had already been exposed, but were encouraged by the fact that he didn’t have any symptoms yet. Even though it was freezing out we cracked the windows to let the air flow, and Lysol’d the heck out of the surfaces in our apartment.
As I rocked Amos to sleep that night, I tried not to let my tears drip onto his fuzzy little head. I wanted to hold him extra close and keep him safe and healthy. It was heartbreaking to feel like I, his mom, could be a threat to his health. After he went to sleep, I took some deep breaths, pulled myself together and told myself it was time to be strong. I had a little person to care for, after all! Juan and I ordered soup (we communicated with the delivery service that we had Covid, and instructed them to leave the food outside our door) and talked about the coming days. Because of all the uncertainty (how ill would we get?!) the conversation felt entirely hypothetical. But we vowed not to get lost in worry or fear. We reminded ourselves that we’d done everything possible in Amos’ short life to ensure he was as healthy and as strong as could be. For the foreseeable future, we’d focus only on our family’s well being. Everything else could wait.
In the days that followed, our community stepped up for us in big ways. As a new parent—and in a pandemic!—I have learned how to accept help. My parents, who live nearby, left a huge box of groceries and cold and flu remedies outside our door. A friend who is also a mom sent us transparent masks so that Amos could see our smiles—a beautiful gesture that made me cry. Others sent tea, flowers, fruit and GrubHub gift cards and hot meals. (One of our neighbors left
all the packages outside our door.) Even though Juan and I lost taste and smell, the meals were an absolute lifeline to free up time and energy that we could use to care for ourselves and for Amos. We took our Vitamin C and D diligently and drank all manner of liquids to stay hydrated.
A few days later, Amos began to show symptoms. It started as congestion, which made it hard for him to lay down. So, Juan and I took turns holding him upright to help him rest. We filled the diffuser with eucalyptus oil, took him into the steamy bathroom and used the snot sucker to clear his airways. He spent the night whimpering, his body flush and warm. The next morning, he vomited the contents of his tummy. The amount of breast milk that came out was startling. I was used to his little spit ups, but nothing like this. He was pale and limp and clearly felt awful. It was terrible to see him so sick. In a telehealth visit with Children’s, a nurse assured us that we could continue to ride this out at home unless Amos took a turn for the worse. We managed his fever with Tylenol and tried to keep him comfortable however possible—mostly by holding him.
Throughout the entire ordeal, I continued to offer Amos the breast as much as possible. I didn’t force it, but I always let him know it was there. Even when he just took a few sips, I was happy to be able to feed him, comfort him and connect with him. Sometimes I even squirted milk into his nose and around his eyes. In the absence of kisses and cuddles, breastfeeding was our link. It felt so good to know that I had such a powerful tool for his health and a way to let him know I was with him and doing everything I could to keep him well. Needless to say, caring for a baby when we were sick ourselves was challenging, especially given that we were already terribly sleep deprived even before Covid. During the days we were ill, if we could get a shower in and some decent food in our bellies, that was enough. We took every opportunity to rest with Amos, opened the windows to let the sun hit our faces and tried to laugh and enjoy each other.
The nurse also told us that the virus was likely to leave Amos’ system quickly, and it did. By day three of his illness, he had begun to turn the corner. It made me so happy to see him play, eat with fury and smile again. I know that he was a big part of what motivated Juan and me to stay positive. Beyond my initial fever and some minor cold symptoms, my case never worsened. For Juan, it was like the flu. Our taste and smell returned about a week later. In the end, we are incredibly fortunate to have had mild illnesses with no lingering symptoms.
Again, I can’t stress enough how much we appreciated the support of our family and friends during this time—even the local Department of Health called to check in on us and ask if we needed anything. My husband’s family in Colombia was in constant communication. Every gesture of care and love and text message filled us with hope and strength. We also felt extremely fortunate to have the full support of our bosses to take off work to focus solely on our health. Even though we were cooped up in our apartment, we felt cared for. I have no doubt this helped us to recover fully.
Ten days after our positive test results, when the Department of Health gave us the okay to end our isolation, I strapped Amos to my chest and put on a mask and we went outside into the sunshine for a walk. It felt marvelous. I know there are going to be other illnesses that tear through our family. Covid was a rough one to be Amos’ first, but we got through it. I’m incredibly grateful.