Schwanger in Deutschland — Delivery in Texas
Schwanger.
That’s what the pregnancy test said in the middle of the night last fall. I felt immediate excitement and joy, but also hesitation and anxiety. I was pregnant in Germany, and we knew we’d be leaving in a few months.
We didn’t know where we were headed. But I was excited and intrigued to navigate the initial stages of pregnancy in Germany.
Generally speaking, I find their universal healthcare system fascinating, but since my husband and I are relatively healthy, I hadn’t gotten to experience much of it. But I knew Germany had midwifery based care, which was attractive to me. I was also relieved knowing there would be zero medical bills associated with this pregnancy. So I set up an appointment with the OB/GYN I had seen once before. My husband and I walked to the office, the doctor performed an ultrasound, and sure enough, our lives were going to change forever.
We thought of this baby as our next big adventure.
Fast forward to January when, at around 20 weeks pregnant, we moved to Austin, TX. Since I had family and friends in the area, it seemed like a logical place to begin our next chapter.
My pregnancy had been straightforward, and I envisioned having our little one in a birth center. As I sorted through the insurance I had for my new job as a nurse in a hospital, I realized it had no in-network birth centers, and only one in-network midwife with her own practice. At the time, I was open to home birth, but figured we’d go the hospital route since there wasn’t a birth center option. Although I wasn’t thrilled about being in the hospital, I was confident that everything would turn out just fine.
After all, we were back in a country where we knew how everything works, right?
The first COVID-19 case reported in the US was in Snohomish County, WA. I saw that on the news in the break room at work and thought to myself, “wow, I know where that is,” as we had lived near there for several years. When the virus started spreading up there, our family expressed gratitude we no longer lived in Washington.
Then we saw the virus spreading in Europe. Our friends in Germany were on lockdown, and their lives had changed drastically.
Groups larger than two were banned from meeting.
Many of the trains stopped running.
Only one person per household was allowed in the grocery store.
Ironically, we remarked to each other that we were glad we weren’t quarantined there in our small apartment.
We were fortunate that our midwife was already doing home visits when COVID-19 became a concern in Austin. We had two telehealth visits with her, and we started our birthing classes via Zoom. It also became clear that we wouldn’t get to have a baby shower. Slowly, our few in-person connections to the outside world disappeared.
By the end of March, I was worried about my potential exposure at work in the hospital — in European countries many healthcare workers were contracting the virus. Since there weren’t many patients on my floor due to cancellation of surgeries, one day I picked up a shift taking employees’ temperatures as they began work. That day a gal from my unit informed me “we’re going to be the COVID unit starting later today.” Due to the number of these patients, the hospital decided to admit anyone who didn’t need ICU care to our floor.
Because I was pregnant, and also in my third trimester, I was not asked to care for COVID patients. After speaking with my manager, I requested to continue screening employees instead of working on our floor. I began coordinating the employee screening process full time.
Shifting to that role meant I became very aware of the visitation policy of the hospital and specifically Labor and Delivery. They allowed one support person to stay at your side, but if that person left, they wouldn’t be allowed back in. Sadly, we had to turn away doulas, and a couple of times a laboring mother had to choose between her partner and her mother, right then and there. It felt awful to ask them to leave someone at the door, and I knew I didn’t want that stress myself.
After a few weeks of screening, my amazing manager helped me switch to an assignment that didn’t involve being in the hospital. I was greatly relieved. I was 30 weeks pregnant.
At that point, my husband and I felt very isolated. We weren’t visiting friends anymore, even in a socially distanced context. I hadn’t hugged my sister — who also lives in Austin — in 6 weeks. Now we were the ones stuck in a small apartment. We FaceTimed with friends and family in Germany, the Pacific Northwest, Tennessee, Arizona, and Washington D.C., but the conversations were fully consumed by COVID-19.
Are the bakeries really open?
Man I wish we had a pool in our backyard!
Who made you a Star Wars mask?
Are your parents doing all right?
I’m sorry you had to cancel your knee replacement!
Though I was glad to connect with people, I silently wished we could just talk about things like our baby registry and pregnancy symptoms and set all the pandemic craze aside.
Our midwife was discussing a new hospital policy that moms had to wear a mask in active labor when I decided to ask about the possibility of doing a home birth. I was 34 weeks pregnant. My husband and I had discussed it, and we decided the stress of being in the hospital would hinder my focus. She explained to us what switching to home birth would entail and encouraged us to start purchasing the supplies if we made up our mind.
Once the decision was made and supplies were ordered, I felt a huge sense of relief. The birth would be just that: a birth. We wouldn’t be worried about catching the virus, and no one would be worried about getting it from us. The birth team would be me, my husband, two midwives, and baby. The following weeks I kept working, and we kept quarantining. At 37 weeks, my mom and sister started their complete quarantine so they could come over right after the birth. I’m still incredibly grateful that they were able to do so, and I know it was a sacrifice to be socially isolated for so long.
When Birth Day did come, the virus didn’t even cross our minds. At 40 weeks 2 days, at 4am, I woke up with contractions. We labored on our own for a while and our midwife arrived around 10:30am. The second midwife arrived around noon, and our daughter was born in the water at 2:05pm.
We celebrated the safe and healthy arrival of our little one.
Under normal circumstances, no one would have worn a mask, and maybe the birth team would’ve been bigger. We might’ve had family waiting in a room nearby. There would’ve been more friends and family visiting from out of state. But we accept that birth during a pandemic is unique.
And upon reflection, I’ve concluded that precisely because of COVID-19 I got to have the birth that I really wanted — at home, in water, with a midwife and my husband continually at my side.
I’m so grateful for that.
COVID-19 still affects us. The number of cases in our area rose exponentially after our daughter was born in early June. As such, few people have gotten to hold our precious baby. We had to do her two week checkup virtually because the midwife had a virus exposure. This also meant I had to do her blood draw for that visit. She’s been in the car, on walks, and to a few socially distanced porch meetups. But that’s about all. And it’ll be awhile before any strangers or acquaintances marvel at her bright red hair.
But we have hope that someday life will return to normal, and she’ll get to visit the city in Germany where her parents once lived.
