Team Pfizer
Monday, I left my house around 11:30am to make it to my 12:10pm vaccine appointment. As I was pulling out of the street I could feel my eyes begin to well and had to stop myself from the tears running down my face. I knew immediately these tears were not because I was sad but because for the first time in a year I felt a real, intense feeling of hope for our future. A flood of emotions hit me and what felt like a highlight reel of the past year started playing in my mind…
March 2020, COVID had hit the US, or at least came into my viewpoint, and was declared a global pandemic. At the beginning I was calm. I don’t know if it was a coping mechanism or not but I remember having a conversation with my sister in law and both agreeing that, “we refuse to let fear control our life.” Ha! Boy, was I in for a ride.
Wednesday, March 11, my nephew, Callum, was born and I remember sitting in the hospital waiting room with our family. No one was wearing a mask but COVID was the topic of conversation. I think deep down we were all concerned and confused about what it was, what it could do to us and questioning who it might impact that we know. But on the surface, I remember trying to let things roll off my back and downplay if it would get to us or not. To be honest, we didn’t know. No one knew and that was the scary part.
That Friday I visited Callum and my brother and sister in law to welcome them home from the hospital. I followed the standard guidelines when seeing a new baby and simply washed my hands thoroughly before picking him up. Then it began. That weekend was the first time Jack and I “socially distanced.” We decided it would be best to avoid crowds and be cautious until this passed. We found things to do like play cards, visit my dad to watch some sporting event (before they were all canceled) and enjoy the act of hunkering down at home. At this point, masks were not a requirement, the recommended distance was 3 feet apart and I was still willingly going to the grocery store.
Then came the mandate from work to start working from home exclusively, projected to only be two weeks (maybe a month at most), and it was a fun change of pace. Jack and I were eating lunch together, sitting on our front porch more often, finding fun games to play and new shows to watch (I’m looking at you Tiger King). I decided to take up yoga and focus on my health. Again, Ha! It was a novelty. But then the anxiety and grief of missing out on life set in. Jack’s brother and sister in law, with their kids, moved to his parents house from New York to escape one of the epicenters. Jack and I weren’t seeing anyone and spent a lot of time Facetiming and Marco Polo-ing to “stay in touch.” It was exhausting and upsetting. Not to mention the intense fear and anxiety that I, or more importantly Jack, was going to get sick and something terrible would happen. People were dying daily and the infection rate was steadily climbing.
We stopped going to the grocery store. Click list and delivery became our new best friend. Toilet paper was scarce, along with so many other things. We were massively over ordering groceries because we knew about half of our requested items wouldn’t be available. I started eating an exorbitant amount of peanut butter and jelly, which I previously detested. Again, maybe a coping mechanism, but who knows. Jack and I were also so bored we were doing insane things like going for a run together, and so scared that we were Clorox wiping every item that entered our home.
Toward the end of March we began visiting family but only in the driveway and we would stay in our car. It felt good to see people in person but still so hard to not hug them, tickle our nieces and nephews or participate in a meal or activity. It was at this point that I told my sister in laws I measured each day based on how many times I cried versus showered. Crying was common, showering was not.
April came and went. The days all became one and never seemed different from the one before. There was Zoom Easter where I squeezed into a fun dress and Jack wore a bow tie. Lots of video chatting and a few driveway visits. We celebrated (read: mourned) what should have been our departure day to Greece for our honeymoon. And suddenly we were in May, still working from home, still scared out of our minds and beyond tired of living in quarantine.
May involved puzzles and relaxing our “rules” with family. We started eating dinners outside in the driveway while staying 6 feet, the new recommended distance, apart. We celebrated our 1 year anniversary and went to the lake house with Jack’s family.
June came with a heavy weight and we masked up and marched in a Black Lives Matter protest. Life shifted and we were reminded what’s really important, what we need to fight for and that the world is bigger than ourselves. It also brought snuggles with Callum, slip in slides in the back yard and blow up baby pools.
July was hopeful. We tie dyed 4th of July t-shirts, cleaned out closets, celebrated birthdays and I packed up for summer camp. My mom, sister and our 5 year old niece and 8 year old nephew traveled to North Carolina to attend a very safe and well run family camp at Camp Seafarer. My mom, sister and I all attended as campers in our respective childhoods and family camp was the 2020 replacement to their summer programing. It came with toothbrushes dropped on a hotel floor, a squirrel in our cabin and 5 days of constant sweating. But it also came with endless smiles and laughter, sailing, quality time, s’mores and too many memories to count. It was the first time since March that I felt safe but as soon as I left the gates of that camp bubble, I knew what reality was waiting for me. July ended with our family vacation to Ocean Isle Beach where masks were required inside, dinners were eaten outside and seeing family was a joy.
August brought more heartache and pain. We had to unexpectedly say goodbye to our sweet pup Layla. It was fast, hard and devastating. Thankfully the pain was mildly diluted by a fun family vacation to Lake Keowee with Jack’s family. It involved more tie dying, boat rides, swimming and lots of great food.
Suddenly we were in September and celebrating my birthday. We went kayaking as a family and enjoyed lunch at an outdoor brewery. It’s important to note that each of these excursions outside of our safe home came with great joy in the moment but great anxiety after. Did we get sick while we were out? How long do we have to wait and see? Should we hunker down again and isolate until we know? Was that reckless or irresponsible? September also brought my first COVID test, thankfully negative, out of an abundance of caution. And also the month my identity was stolen. I’m not prepared to relive that piece yet, so I’ll just leave it here.
October seemed mundane until I remembered we bought a house. Clearly I’ve blocked some of that trauma out of my mind. October was spent packing and signing house papers, mixed in with large amounts of stress. At this point in the year, nothing seemed extraordinary and the days were running together unlike ever before, but we are so thankful we were able to purchase our home and look forward to all the memories that will be made here.
November and December were filled with celebrations and long holiday discussions. Birthdays. Weddings. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Where to go? Who to see? How to be safe? And what exactly are these vaccines they’re talking about?
January was a new year but the same thing. Life was still being lived at home. Vaccines were rolling out but I was still nervous about them. Were they safe? Should I get it? Maybe I’ll wait. We welcomed our newest family member Cane and distracted ourselves with walks and teaching him to sit to wait for his food. We also witnessed an attack on our capital that was sickening and watched as history was made at the inauguration of President Biden and Vice President Harris.
February was cold. It came with lots of snow and felt like a bleak winter. Even more time was spent inside and that seasonal depression really kicked in. March was greatly anticipated.
And here we are, March 2021. 1 year into a global pandemic with no “real” end in sight. But Monday, as I was driving to that first vaccine appointment, with the sun shining down on my face, and hope filling my heart, I knew March 29, 2021 would not only be a feature in this year’s highlight reel but will forever be a memory of joyful anticipation for the future.
à la prochaine fois,
anna