As I settle down at my kitchen table yet again, I remind myself, “I’m among the fortunate ones.” This space has become my makeshift office, where I juggle the demands of working from home while parenting two kids and stepping into the role of their makeshift teacher. Each morning finds me knee-deep in clinical documentation and billing for my therapy practice, all while guiding my 14-year-old through assignments across eight different subjects in our newly digital learning world. Meanwhile, I also find myself debating the merits of a journal prompt about an abandoned fort with my 5th grader.
Every day feels like a repeat of the last in this new Groundhog Day existence. As I sit at the kitchen table, I realize I have less than 90 minutes to squeeze in some “school time” for my kids before I retreat to my home office for eight consecutive therapy sessions. Sure, I’ll sneak out for 10 to 15 minutes between sessions to refill my water, toss some food at my boys, let the dogs outside, break up any squabbles between the kids, and maybe even grab a quick restroom break. But then it’s right back to work—headphones on, camera activated, and my therapeutic space fully operational.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I tell myself as I support patients on the front lines of the COVID-19 crisis. ICU nurses, doctors, and social workers share harrowing accounts of what they witness daily in our sessions. My practice has morphed into one focused on trauma, helping clients navigate their fears, find hope, and prioritize self-care in these unprecedented times.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself as I connect virtually with new moms who are grappling with postpartum anxiety and depression, now stripped of essential support systems that had been established before the pandemic altered our lives.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I repeat as my inbox fills with messages from former clients reaching out for help in light of the upheaval the virus has caused in their lives.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself as I assist patients who have finally achieved pregnancy after enduring years of loss and failed treatments, only to face the prospect of attending doctor’s appointments alone and possibly delivering their babies without their partners by their sides.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I tell myself as I listen to my patients express their anxieties about layoffs, furloughs, and the financial instability that threatens their dreams of retirement.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I reassure myself as friends around me confront losses and challenges unrelated to COVID-19—sudden bereavements, cancer diagnoses, and relationship breakdowns.
Yet, I can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy—feeling like I’m barely holding it all together. “I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself while questioning how I can be the therapist my clients need when I’m constantly alert for my boys needing help.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I tell myself as I ponder how I can be the parent my kids require when I’m often locked away in my office, instructing them to only interrupt for emergencies.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself while worrying about being the partner my husband needs, who is managing a demanding medical service from home and covering long shifts. We often feel like two ships passing in the night, too drained to acknowledge one another when we finally find a moment to connect.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I tell myself as I reach out to friends and family, trying to provide support and remind them they are loved, even as my energy dwindles by day’s end.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself as I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling and pondering what might happen if one of us contracts the virus or if my husband loses his job or if my boys’ frustrations about missing sports and friends boil over.
“I’m among the fortunate ones,” I remind myself again, realizing that if I’m struggling this much, others are likely experiencing even greater pain.
And yet, “I’m among the fortunate ones, and it’s perfectly acceptable to not feel okay right now,” I reassure myself.
No matter our individual circumstances, life has become undeniably challenging and far different from what it once was. Even if you, like me, find yourself among the fortunate, it’s still valid to acknowledge that our current situation is tough. It’s okay to embrace your feelings and yearn for a better reality for us all, including yourself.
For more insights, check out this related post on Home Insemination Kit. Also, if you’re looking for expert advice, visit Make a Mom, they provide great resources on this topic. For further support on pregnancy challenges, Drugs.com offers an excellent resource for those dealing with infertility.
Summary
Despite feeling fortunate amid the chaos of life during the COVID-19 pandemic, it’s crucial to recognize and validate our struggles. Even those who consider themselves lucky can feel overwhelmed and inadequate. Acknowledging these feelings is part of the process of coping with the complexities of our current reality.
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