Love in the Time of Coronavirus

In January, my brother told me to stock up on groceries. By February, conferences and birthday parties were being canceled. On March 26, Governor Polis issued a stay-at-home order for the state. And on April 15, we had a new baby Olivia. 

The labor and delivery went as normal as those things can. Wearing masks while in labor, everyone wearing masks, was a bit uncomfortable. The nurses and staff at St. Mary's Hospital were still gracious about reminding us, and Dr. Siler was great in caring for us throughout it. The major frustration we had was not being able to have our other daughter Madeline come visit in the hospital or grandparents come to support us.

Olivia has been a lovely, healthy baby and we are so thankful for her. Madeline doesn't really understand what all is happening, but in her 3 year-old way knows there are big changes: school is closed, she can't hug friends or visit their house, and her new baby sister is out. We as parents also don't understand what all is happening, but try to explain what we do know. There is a virus that is too small to see; it comes from other people and can hurt any of us at any time. 

This seems to make more sense to her than why our tulips all come out of the ground at the same time or how sunset clouds turn pink. Answers for our toddler remain easier than answers to our own questions: Why is this happening now, what can we do, how can we keep everyone safe? We don't know when our parents can visit the new baby. We don't know when anyone can visit the new baby. 

This hasn't stopped our church, friends, neighbors in downtown Grand Junction and family afar all from supporting us. People have sent meals and clothes and cards and diapers and wipes. We've eaten more desserts in the past week than the past three months. It's generous, too generous really, and I'm certain we don't deserve it. I might need to brag on some people to alleviate the indebtedness, or at least publicize it. Meredith of Taproot Catering started sending us daily meals before we knew to ask. Gigi (hi mom!) has entertained and socialized our cooped-up toddler via Zoom. Our church group from River of Life has sent meals and cards and chocolate. Dane and Sidney Wood watched our toddler in the thick of the pandemic, despite my being a high-risk contact. 

My wife is most concerned when I'm in the emergency room. I'm a doc working at both Colorado Canyons and St. Mary's hospitals. They've both had cases and exposures, but thankfully I have personally had neither. My wife and I have talked about my leaving home to camp in Rabbit Valley and commuting from there into work. We've considered whether I should wear a mask at home. We've created a decontamination routine, now somehow normal.

First, I enter the door, then take off all my clothes, wipe down everything in my pockets with bleach while telling Madeline I love her but don't come close. No sweetie, no hugs. I then shower, change into new clothes and finally greet my family. But none of this is a guarantee that I won't get infected or infect my family. 

And yet so far, I haven't. And I've been impressed by everyone's resiliency, at work and at home. Our whole nation has begun this hard thing to protect each other. Folks throughout the Grand Valley have been caring for each other with distancing, hygiene and masks. And it's been working, keeping us healthy and as happy as you can be with a cute, cuddly, fussy, sleepy-at-the-wrong-times baby.

I wanted this to be a homage to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, but this really isn't a story of unrequited love. If anything, it's the story of undeserved love. Our family, friends and neighbors have been so supportive and flexible, it's making us wonder whether we can ever be nice enough to have deserved them. Maybe they're addicted to cooking delicious food. Maybe they think we're nicer, more generous people than we are. Or maybe they're just the really nice, generous people we've been lucky enough to keep around in these uncertain times.

Chris was raised in the Midwest and had always vacationed in Colorado. After finishing medical school, he and his wife Laura were finally free to choose where to live. They figured they could live where they like to play, and settled into Grand Junction. It has been wonderful to raise their two daughters learning and playing in the wilderness. He enjoys hiking, camping, biking of all kinds, climbing, and being surrounded by female family members.