When we first learned that we were expecting, the term “coronavirus” wasn’t even on our radar screen. By the beginning of our second trimester, the world was on mandatory lockdown, the virus dubbed a global pandemic, death toll climbing at a disturbingly abrupt rate.

If there’s been anything scary for me, as an expecting mom, it’s the fear of inadequacy - will my body be strong enough to support a growing life force? Am I ready for this? Will I be able to protect my baby from factors that are beyond my control?

It’s funny, people (men, in particular, I find) often talk about how much life changes once a baby arrives, and while I don’t doubt for a moment the truth behind that statement (or I might be in for a rude awakening once this baby makes its way into the world), a woman’s responsibility as a mother begins well before that long-awaited arrival date; her entire purpose shifts the day she becomes pregnant. Not only does her body go through major changes over the course of nine months, but everything she does, every choice she makes, becomes about the tiny being inside her belly. It goes beyond swapping out her evening glass of wine in favor of the mocktail, or giving up her favorite tuna poke bowl; her baby becomes her everything, and every decision she makes - from her sleeping position, to her exercise routine, her diet, her work schedule, and beyond - becomes about the baby.

With an increased responsibility comes an increased fear of ineptitude, which can only be heightened by something like a global pandemic.

With the world in an unpredictable state of ambiguity, our own economic well-being significantly compromised, I find my anxiety about becoming a mom fierce and profound. As an expecting mom, uncertainty has been my greatest enemy - and, indeed, the uncertainty of the world at present has fueled my new mama anxiety.

I can’t even begin to predict what kind of world our little man will enter into when his time comes to leave the safety of my womb.

I don’t know what kind of life Kevin and I will be able to provide for him. In a matter of days, we lost nearly all of our income and have been scraping together cash just to keep ourselves afloat. When we got pregnant just six months ago, we felt ready to take the next step - financially, emotionally, physically, etc. Our AirBnb was bringing in steady income, with projections to put us in a comfortable position to welcome a baby in August. Then, mid-March, cancellations started rolling in, and they didn’t stop until every single projected earning through our baby’s due date was refunded, and we were left with an empty home, a clear calendar, and a plummeting bank account.

And that’s just the financial piece. Health-wise, there is a whole cluster of other emotions, other fears, that dominate my thoughts. Will I be able to protect my baby from this virus that has already claimed the lives of so many? Right now, I take comfort in knowing that he is as safe as I can keep him inside the walls of my own body. Without my layers of flesh, how will I protect him?

In spite of all this angst and unease, however, our baby boy has been a shining light for us through one of the darkest moments in human history, and for that I feel profoundly blessed.

With every kick in my belly, every wiggle, and every squirm, I feel hope. Already, he gives my life meaning; he gives me a reason to wake up each morning, even amidst the chaos of this uncertain world.

To our sweet baby: thank you for the joy you’ve already brought to our lives. When the day comes that you are ready to make your way into this big and scary universe, we promise to love you with all that we are, and to share with you all the beauty, the laughter, and the bliss that this fucked-up world has to offer.