I don’t know why I was so naive going into this thing. Maybe it’s because I never watch the news or read newspapers, so I didn’t see how mainstream media was reporting on this virus… If I had been paying attention, I might have known we were headed toward disaster.
On Wednesday, March 11th, I taught my last class for the semester. It was the week before spring break, and I was scheduled to end teaching at the break to go on maternity leave. Knowing what I do now, my leave could not have come at a more convenient time (if you don’t mind having a baby in the midst of a pandemic). I was already planning to hang out at home for the next month or two. Granted, I thought my kids would go to school during that time frame and that I would still be able to buy baby wipes with ease but, all in all, staying at home during March and April has not drastically changed my life with a baby due any day now. Thankfully, I have not had to suffer through the frantic process of moving all my classes entirely online in the middle of the semester like every other professor across the nation.
After my last class, I was saying goodbye to some of my colleagues. At this point, I had a c-section planned for the following Thursday. I said to my Department Chair:
“Okay, I think will be out of the office starting tomorrow. I’ll let you guys know when the baby arrives. But I plan to come back for all the year-end events. I’ll be at our department party and the senior breakfast and graduation.”
He replied, “If those events even happen…”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, with all this Coronavirus stuff, I am starting to wonder what is going to happen over the next few weeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if the school shuts down or if all the celebratory events get canceled.”
He must watch the news.
This thought had never crossed my mind.
I replied, “That couldn’t happen, right? I mean, graduation isn’t until May.” My second most naive moment of this pandemic, after not buying toilet paper at Costco when it was still in stock.
That same evening, we received a university-wide announcement that spring break would be extended for an extra week for students while faculty prepared to teach online for the rest of the semester.
The governors in Washington and California began restricting group gatherings day by day. At first, groups over 250 could not meet. (Then 100. Then 50. Then 10.)
That’s when the avalanche started.
The next day our church canceled Sunday services and all group gatherings, including my women’s small group that was scheduled to meet a few hours later.
That same day the girls’ sports teams were suspended at the YMCA.
And after school on Friday, March 13th, we received word that Zianne’s school district would be closed for four weeks until April 13th.
Soon after, we received emails from our after-school care program and our preschool announcing three-week closures. The small perk? Tuition credit. We are saving so much in childcare during a time I’m here to watch the girls. Our bank account is grateful.
I had already prepared Zianne for her school closure. Starting on Wednesday, I started telling her she was probably going to get to take a few weeks off school to try out “homeschooling” with mom. She had already heard teachers and kids at school talking about “Coronavirus,” so we discussed how people were getting sick and how we were going to stay home for a while to stay safe and keep other people safe. By Friday, school districts across the country — in regions far less impacted by COVID-19 than ours — had already closed, so I was actually surprised our district took so long. But it was also nice to close out the week as usual and find out our closure information at 5pm on a Friday.
The avalanche had come hurtling down the mountain. School closed. Church closed. Youth sports suspended. March Madness and Spring Training canceled. What would happen next?
