Yesterday was the first time that I heard those dreaded words in relation to my my situation: self isolation.
When the government went from zero to a hundred real quick in relation to their stance on high-risk groups, it meant that my partner, daughter and I would have to self-isolate. Being pregnant in any normal circumstance is difficult, but finding yourself in the midst of a pandemic whilst expecting is nothing short of traumatic.
I guess I’d say you’d be really unlucky if two of your worst fears came to reality. Well here I was in my now very real nightmare world: A visceral fear of germs and a fear of small spaces. It was because of the first thing that the latter had to happen, and that ‘small space’ was our little London bedroom flat. ‘fortunately’ I am still able to venture out- just not to any shops and I have to make sure that I am 2 metres between other people. I just want to add that this extremely difficult for someone who doesn’t carry a metre stick or trundle wheel with them on leaving the house.
Its now Day Two of the ‘lockdown’ on pregnant women and those who are high-risk and I feel tired. Tired and drained. I was lucky enough to take Arielle to the field next door to our flat today and no one was there but a few dogs- I know with the impending school closures we might not be so fortunate. It makes me sad to think that I am having to be creative about leaving the house. Going out at 7 am would be madness, but if its the difference between that and staying in then I’ll take it.
It is seemingly hard to find a middle ground between spoiling my daughter and there being absolutely F all for her to do here. I must have spent 100s in the past few weeks on my daughter but I’m slowly feeling the walls close in on us as if we don’t have enough to entertain her busy mind.
My partner came back from a shopping trip with not even a loaf of bread. Shit has got real… Well that really takes the bread out of breadwinner doesn’t it. All jokes aside, I found it hard not to well up and really gave the rest of the day a dark undertone. No one wants to feel like they can’t provide for their children. We ended the day by watching approximately 4 hours of a Ted Bundy documentary. Surprisingly, it managed to not to sink the mood any lower. That’s really telling you something.
It’s Day Three and I’m feeling a sense of welcome calm which is… Welcome. Maybe I am in deniable about what is really going on in the world at the moment, or about the fact that we could be shut up in this tiny flat for up to six months. I decide to get out all the play animals and live stream footage from a zoo in the US. It was nice to see the word ‘zoo’ without the ‘nosis’ at the end of it. That was definitely a positive. A really kind woman bought us some full fat milk for Arielle as we couldn’t find anything – that definitely restored some of my broken faith in humanity. We then put our daughter to bed and rented that Zac Efron film about Ted Bundy. It certainly didn’t lift any spirits but gave us something to do for at least 2 hours.
Day Four: Its Friday morning and if I’m honest, I just don’t have that Friday feeling at all. The skin on the back of my hands is chapped and dry as hell, and the overall condition of my skin is just… non-existent. I take my daughter to play in the field across the road, we get some much needed fresh air and then retreat home for lunch. We spend the rest of the day doing different activities- I can already see that Arielle is bored. I decide it’s a great idea to spend the rest of next week’s budget (yes, you heard it) on a tuft tray and some sparkly sand for Arielle. Clearly I am deluded as she isn’t even two yet. Sometimes I think that I’m subconsciously getting these things for myself so that I don’t go off my head.
In other news, we decide that we’ve had enough of Ted Bundy programs for this week and perhaps a very long while and instead settle for some YouTube content from people probably way younger than us.
This week I’ve been alot more cheerful than I have been recently. This might be yet another delusion, or infact the calm before the storm but it’s been a welcome break. It could also be that I’ve been so burdened with anxiety for the last month about what will happen that maybe I’m actually surrendering to
house flat arrest…