“The owls were there before lockdown, and they are still eating insects on the lawn all these years later.”
PHOTO BY PIXABAY
November 15, 2022
It’s been a rough week. The boys aren’t sleeping through and the baby is up every two hours still. Loadshedding isn’t helping me find my groove, especially when the geyser switch keeps tripping. Rain is keeping us inside but helping our tiny macadamia trees grow.
Last night, I went to bed at 6pm with the children and fell fast asleep. At 7pm, the lights came back on and two spotted eagle owls started making a racket on the lawn. They make a sort of screeching growling sound right outside my window. Why? They’re chasing crickets!
One sits on the top of the garage playing lookout and the other one screeches and screeches while hopping awkwardly on the grass. They are hilarious to watch, running as though they had brand new shoes that were too big to go fast and waddling like they have a full nappy. They hop and bow and watch me watching them through the window. It’s too dark to video but the spotlight lets us see them in full view.
These huge birds are very impressive. And, them waking me up was a grand piece of luck. I forgot it was Wednesday and almost didn’t send in our grocery order for the weekly Thursday delivery. It’s a remnant of COVID lockdown that’s still going, and it is a lifeline to us fresh milk and bread lovers.
The owls were there before lockdown, and they are still eating insects on the lawn all these years later. I hope some things don’t change too quickly. Our little one is almost four months old already and changes every day. He’s started to giggle, and his two-year-old brother has started playschool.
Time is marching on. But hopefully the owls and all the other beautiful creatures at the farm will be unchanged when we look back on our lives here one day. They make me smile on the bad days. The farmhouse wouldn’t be the same without their summer shenanigans. And, at least they’re controlling the thriving cricket population making holes all over our lawn.
Two years in lockdown included a male boomslang in the laundry that was not happy hiding in a watering can.
The male boomslang in Oribi Mom’s watering can. PHOTO BY HEATHER LIND
May 27, 2022
Has it really been that long? Here are 24 things I’ve come through as I find myself standing in 2022 and feeling grateful to be alive.
#1 Giving birth after standing at the emergency entrance answering COVID questions between contractions.
#2 Renovations – so that we didn’t have four people sleeping in one room anymore.
#3 Sending my child to play school for the first time and hoping it wouldn’t mean bringing COVID home.
#4 A spider bite (while breastfeeding at 2am) that tried to destroy at least two toes over the next ten months.
#5 A riot that sent us into extra lockdown, food rations, night watch, and prayer.
#6 350mm of rain in one week that destroyed roads, cancelled school, and sent giant boulders sliding down into the gorge roads.
#7 A male boomslang in the laundry that was not happy hiding in a watering can.
#8 Two years of cancelled birthday parties.
#9 Several lengthy power failures, including one recent stretch of EIGHT days with two sick children (on the farm, no electricity also means no water).
#10 Two years of missed church services, Sunday School, and face-to-face conversations with our community.
#11 Another pregnancy, but also having to choose a new OB/GYN as my beloved stalwart retired!
#12 A Christmas and New Year’s disaster where a certain virus I am tired of naming scattered the family back into isolation.
#13 At least 20 months without a haircut from a professional.
#14 More than 24 months of missed Mom’s Group teas that used to be a weekly time to catch up and let the children play with friends.
#15 Losing at least one freelance client due to the pandemic, which forced their company to shut down.
#16 Postponing holiday bookings for a third year running.
#17 Two years of masks, sprays, wipes, looks of suspicion, and a widespread fear of coughs and sneezes.
#18 Two years wondering how long coffee-stained teeth and a lost filling can go without dental work.
#19 Four remaining chickens and three bunnies still managing to eat pumpkins flowers, chew welcome mats, poo on the porch, and scratch out flower seedlings whenever they have the chance.
#20 Yet another season of relentless lantana, bugweed, blackjacks, and burrs.
#21 Finally deactivating Facebook, deleting Twitter, and cleaning up diminishing Gmail storage.
#22 Losing three grandparents and friends, and saying goodbye behind a screen.
#23 Two years without weddings, dates, parties, public events, theatre, international travel, movies, or Saturday night braais with friends.
#24 Over two years without a Zest lolly. Only kidding, we would never have survived that! In fact, those sweet frozen treats might be the top reason we moved to the South Coast!
Two Years and the Tide Is Turning
It’s only been 24 months. We can carry on surviving if we need to, but it does feel like there might be a change in the air. There is always hope.
“Friends lightheartedly commented in May last year that they hoped to meet my little one before he was walking – too late, he took his first steps last week.”
Our woolly-necked storks are residents or intra-African migrants.
April 8, 2021
The first of those lockdown babies has turned ONE! Did you remember?
A year after our lives were turned upside down by an invisible threat, we are still in isolation and it doesn’t feel normal yet. There are likely people in your circles who have changed jobs, lost livelihoods, recovered from surgeries, and upgraded their smartphones. In a whole year, there are also mothers who fell pregnant, watched their bellies expand, and now have an infant – without seeing anyone.
Can you imagine not one of your mommy friends admiring your bump over tea or meeting your child? That is now normal.
It’s Been a Year of Wondering When Things Will Be Normal Again
I haven’t been to a shop in over a year. Or in-person church.
Friends lightheartedly commented in May last year that they hoped to meet my little one before he was walking – too late, he took his first steps last week. My cute two-year-old is now a tall, rambunctious three-going-on-thirteen, rolling eyes and all. He’s outgrown several clothes sizes in a year and forgotten the names of some friends he played with every week before – a year is third of his whole lifespan!
My pregnant belly is now an 11-month toddler who wants to feed himself. He gets excited about the loud sounds of tractors and vacuum cleaners. He’s never met his extended family, including great-grandparents.
So Much Has Changed and Yet So Much Is Still the Same
Will we be looking back the same way another year from now? I don’t know.
Our garden has undergone another season of growth, as has our marriage. Even the swallows are getting ready to leave again after their six-monthly residence on the farm.
I know that you should check on your friends, even if it’s over WhatsApp. Everyone is not okay. South Africans are tough, but these have been dark days where social lifelines haven’t been forthcoming. We need friends and family, but we have also needed to obey the laws and minimise the spread of a virus.
We recently went through five days without electricity on the farm after a terrible lightning storm, but it was like a welcome reset in many ways. My fridge has never looked so clean as it emptied rapidly and couldn’t be refilled.
There’s some light for 2021, but we might have to enjoy a few candlelit dinners to see it. We don’t need complicated technology or filled calendars to be happy.
We do need connection, though. Relationships are the electricity of a fulfilled life.
What changes have you been through in a year of lockdown? Are there connections you need to restore? Don’t lose hope, you’ve already come through an entire year of life-altering abnormality. Keep the lights on and call somebody.
What are pregnant mamas wondering about right now? Everything. They’re wondering about everything.
April 19, 2020
Covid-19 has thrown me a curveball in my second pregnancy. I’m due May 15, 2020, which might or might not be during a nationwide South African lockdown as coronavirus pummels the entire world.
In a time where there should have been the normal pregnant mom ups and downs between joy, hope, and normal baby-related questions, I’m no longer thinking about the pram, the car seat, the clothes, the family pictures, and whether an epidural is worth it.
In my first pregnancy, I was anxious, too. Was the next scan going to show abnormalities? Was that cramp normal? Did I choose the right hospital? Would I know when it was time, or would I end up having the baby in the car? How do you change a nappy on such a tiny human? Will modern cloth nappies save the world? (They will.)
Pregnant Oribi mom with son Cooper. Her second child is due soon.
I had the same worries as any new mother. Would I be able to breastfeed? Would sleep deprivation turn me into a dragon or a basket case?
Disclaimer: If you ask my husband, he’ll never admit to the fact that the sleep deprivation did, in fact, turn me into a basket case for those first few weeks. It will pass, moms and dads. Two-and-a-half years in, I’m back to normal [side-eyes husband].
IT WENT WRONG
My pregnancy started well, much like the first, but something happened between the mid-March appointment and the mid-April appointment. It was a cataclysm that went from a problem in a country on the other side of the planet, to an invisible threat that made me think twice about visiting my own mother.
My thoughts shifted from ‘normal’ pregnant mom questions to survival mode.
Wouldn’t missing an appointment be better than risking exposure at the doctor’s offices? Would my husband, my rock, be allowed into the room with me while I was writhing in pain to bring a new life into the world? Would they whisk my baby away to be sterilised and sanitised and hidden from visitors who would only meet it at six months old?
Panic.
Homebirth pros and cons.
Possible lockdown scenarios as we chatted in mid-March.
What do we do with our toddler? Do we leave him with his grandparents, who are ‘high-risk’ when we don’t know whether a delivery man could (quite possibly) pass it to my husband who could pass it to my son who might be asymptomatic?
Plan B? I go to the hospital ALONE, give birth ALONE, handle complications or last-minute decisions without my partner, and share my joy over WhatsApp if I’m in a state to do so only many hours later (I’m not going to be messaging anyone when I’m breathing through contractions twenty seconds apart, now am I?)
Then lockdown happened. Then extended lockdown happened.
My April appointment at 36 weeks was a hurry-and-don’t-touch-the-door-handles experience. My mask was uncomfortably hot. My husband stayed in the parking lot, missing his first scan in two pregnancies. I tried not to look afraid, and to pretend that I didn’t wish I’d brought some sanitizer into the appointment with me, just in case. I still don’t know if I should’ve intentionally missed the appointment and stayed home until my labour pains brought me out of hiding sometime in the next month. Probably not.
ANSWERS FOR BEING PREGNANT IN COVID-19 LOCKDOWN
In the time of pandemics, the goalposts change slightly, but the health of mother and baby is still the priority. It might feel a little different, and we’re all doing it for the first time, even the doctors and nurses who are trying their best to keep you safe and uninfected.
Here’s what you need to know (from what I have been able to gather, and please understand it’s not an exact and definitive list) about the lockdown, and after lockdown, as you tackle this blessed journey with the courage your mother and grandmother have always told you about:
Most South African hospitals are not allowing ANY visitors, especially during the official lockdown period. Some are allowing partners to come into the birthing room, but not allowing them back in once they leave (ONE entry only).
Most hospitals have a strict entry policy for both your appointments and your birth. It includes screening (they ask you questions, take your temperature, insist on you wearing a mask, and escort you to where you are headed on the premises).
Your hospital MAY have Covid-19 patients. As South Africa faces the spread of the pandemic in the next few months, however slow, this is going to be a reality. These patients will be kept away from the maternity sections, and precautions will be taken, but you will have to face the coronavirus at some point.
DURING LOCKDOWN YOU PROBABLY WON’T BE ABLE TO (AND PROBABLY SHOULDN’T, ANYWAY):
Organise a baby shower
Take a professional pregnancy or newborn photo shoot with your family
Attend antenatal classes in person
Register your baby with Home Affairs
Find the baby immunisations easily (especially if you are trying to avoid medical facilities until the virus settles down)
Receive hospital visitors
LIFE AFTER COVID-19
The situation is likely to continue after lockdown, even if the regulations lift. Medical establishments are still going to take precautions (for our sake!) and require stricter rules. Ask questions, and don’t bite the hospital staff’s head off when they tell you something you weren’t expecting to hear. We’re in this together, South Africa.
After lockdown, you may be able to resume some regular activities, but you will still need to be careful about exposing yourself and your little one to the outside world while the virus is still circulating. Prepare for months of self-isolation at best if we are to learn from the countries who have gone through this before us.
Life after Covid-19 exists. You’re pregnant. You will carry and birth a child into a whole new world with a new appreciation for the sanctity and beauty of life. It’s a universe where dedicated South African school teachers are posting AMAZING BLOOPER VIDEOS, and people like Henry Cock are running 90km up and down their passage to help get 86 staff through the downturn.
PHOTO BY PIXABAY
The male boomslang in Oribi Mom’s watering can. PHOTO BY HEATHER LIND
Our woolly-necked storks are residents or intra-African migrants.