Surviving, Losing, Living: Post Lockdown 3 Thoughts

 

  April 12th, 2021. That was the day England's shops and outdoor dining opened up. The day that I could once again take my child to swim lessons. The day we could once again stay somewhere overnight - not a hotel or someone's house, but anywhere self-catering. 

Confusing, American readers? Welcome to my life. 

People like to tell me they can tell this has been hard on me as if this is radically new information and they're providing deep insight into my life. Truthfully, a Euro-style lockdown is hard on any healthy person. The struggle to survive a brutal lockdown is more indicative of a person living a full life than anything else. Sprinkle that with negative commentary from US dwellers who think a lockdown is an optional event, and it makes for a nearly unbearable, dark winter. 

But we survived. All of us. Infection numbers are down, down, down. Vaccination numbers are up, up, up, and the adults in our household are the unusual fully vaccinated non-medical worker thirty-year-olds in the UK. Being able to serve others better and freely is such a gift, and I'm so thankful for it. I also managed to potty train a two-year-old during that, and Landon turned seven and I turned thirty during the middle of strict lockdown.

Once the British roadmap was announced, I hurriedly booked a quick weekend trip to the North East of England. I had things I wanted to see there, we like Yorkshire, and there was an ocean for the kids. I needed, desperately, to not see the same buildings, roundabouts, and fields that I've been seeing for the last seven months. 

As always, before we left, I doubted we should go. We couldn't leave until 6pm because of work/school/coaching responsibilities, and I wondered if it was all too much on everyone.

My anxiety was loud.

Once we got to our destination and I set my children up in the narrowest beds I've ever seen, white noise and diffuser going strong, I breathed a slow sigh and waited for the silence to indicate sleep.

And they slept. The whole night long not in their own beds. A first for Nova.

And thus, for the first time since Nova's birth, I was able to get a full night's rest while traveling. (It's not a vacation. It's travel, which is work.)

That set the tone for the entire experience. It was our first time taking a fully weaned (no night nursing for meeee!), potty trained, chattering Nova out, and she did brilliantly. I didn't even wear her, which felt unbelievably odd. 

Despite barely being in their car seats for over a year, the kids had no issues with the car travel. Nova is rear-facing and likes to stare at herself in the mirror and catch her brother's eye. She also lives in her own world that must be a musical, because she often burst into song.

Landon sits in a five-point harness, which makes it safe for him to sleep, and he often entertains his sister by playing Johnny Johnny with her. I also attribute Nova's inaugural big girl bed sleeping to the fact that her brother was in a bed next to her, and would firmly remind her to stay in bed and sleep. 

Being around crowds of people again wasn't as overwhelming as it might've been because everyone stayed out of one another's way. There's a physical respect for personal space now and it does make it easier. Most of the small, takeaway shops were one person only, and the other shops had narrow limits and everywhere required masks for adults - we felt comfortable. We mostly stayed outside since anywhere inside was limited, and that made for happy, exhausted children. 

We played at the seaside, ate fish and chips in Whitby, walked a boardwalk in Scarborough with American-style milkshakes, explored Whitby Abbey and Scarborough castle, and hiked and hiked. 

It was grand. It was therapeutic. 

I don't know that I'll ever be able to not eye-roll hard when a US dweller tries to compare their experiences to ours.  The difference is too great. I don't know that I'll ever be able to explain how cruel people's words and experiences felt in November - March when we were so, SO limited because of what my husband does for work. 

Part of my spirit has been lost in the past year. There's a weariness and exhaustion that never existed before. The winter of 2020-2021 required a level of mental survival that I didn't think I had. I learned how quickly people will leave your side in the face of adversity. I like people less. Trust them far less. Hold them emotionally off to the side. But I also feel a kinship with those who have lived through the lockdowns with me, who know what it is like to be their children's only source of anything. Who know what it's like to celebrate Christmas alone and make lockdown birthdays the most exciting thing ever. Who know that a daily walk can be your only source of sanity.  

Who have breathed through the long, dark winter and collapsed into the sunshine of spring.