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? ... Read more

Throughout February, I would sporadically see photos on Instagram of people wearing face masks in Asian countries that used hashtags such as #protectyourself. When Coronavirus hit a nursing home in Kirkland, Washington (the town where I grew up) and killed 19 elderly patients, the whispers turned to grumbles in the media. During this same time period, the virus spread to California, with a handful of cases in the Bay area and one case in Orange County where I live. I traveled to Texas for my sister's baby shower in early February and was amazed by the number of face masks I saw during a connection in the San Jose airport. Part of me wondered if I should be concerned and part of me wondered whether face masks are simply a tool to stimulate fear in the general public. But other than the unsettling hour I spent in San Jose, I still wasn't paying much attention. I didn't yet know that the virus was mostly mild for young people and statistically more dangerous for adults over the age of 65. Had I realized all this, I might have been slightly more concerned for my own dad and Micah's mom who were living and working in Washington in the heart of the outbreak. Instead, I was down in California dealing with my own medical issues in my third trimester of pregnancy. I was diagnosed with complete placenta previa at 18 weeks and each follow-up ultrasound had failed to give me the good news I wanted. At my January ultrasound, it was still a complete previa, and at my February ultrasound, it still hadn't moved. At every prenatal appointment, I was reminded to rush to labor and delivery if I started hemorrhaging, and the doctor was beginning to prep me for a scheduled c-section at 36-37 weeks. I was told to increase my iron intake for the loss of blood I would face in surgery. At home, I was doing everything I could to resolve the previa. Yoga poses recommended by doulas. Acupuncture appointments recommended by midwives (and Google). I ordered mysterious Chinese herbs from Amazon and finally resorted to doing water handstands in the pool at the YMCA because it had helped my friend flip her breech baby and I was desperate. The c-section was scheduled for March 19th, but I had one last ultrasound the week before to check the previa one more time. At this point, the virus had spread more widely in California. We were beginning to receive weekly updates from my work and Zianne's school district about whether or not a nearby Costa Mesa government building was going to be used as a quarantine center for all of Orange County. Too many people protested the quarantine facility, and the court ordered a stay on the issue. Every email we received ended with: "Remember, the Orange County Health Care Agency has rated the risk of exposure in Orange County at this time as low." Within two weeks, the same schools sending these emails would be completely shut down... ... Read more