Jean Costume drove his wife Alena to the hospital. The time had come. Alena stroked her belly. And between each breath, they both prayed. They prayed for their doctors and nurses, for the delivery to go well, for their 3-year-old son and the aunts who were at home.
And they asked for something else; that when her baby girl arrived in this world infected with the coronavirus, that no one would catch it. “It’s something from another world,” said Alena.
Naiviv Perera Morales gave birth to her son Alan on April 19. She and her husband, Alex Álvarez García were stranded in Miami when they canceled the flights to their native Uruguay. So Naiviv went into labor five weeks ahead of schedule, which she says was due to anxiety about the coronavirus. They searched for local hospitals and ended up in the Jackson Memorial emergency room. Alan was born by cesarean section, weighing 3 pounds and 15 ounces, and spent 11 days in the neonatal intensive care unit.
“We are living in limbo,” said Alex.
Lane Casey was born on March 26, about 16 hours after her parents, Shauna and Tyler, arrived at Mercy Hospital and confirmed that they were at a normal temperature. A nurse told them not to worry, that the Mercy had only received eight coronavirus patients.
Lane was born weighing almost 9 pounds, despite being two weeks ahead of her due date. He spent 10 days in the intensive care room with reflux. Shauna was the only one who could visit him, two hours a day, after preparing himself well and putting on a protective gown and mask, but could not touch him. But for the Caseys – parents of Connor, 5, and Lucy, 3, the worst has been the feeling of isolation. None of his family and friends was able to go to the hospital. They also haven’t been able to share the magic of meeting and carrying Lane.
“It is a disappointment, I don’t know when we are going to be able to load it,” said Shauna, who lives in Miami Shores.
What does the future hold for Lane, Alan, Remy and all the babies born during the pandemic?
“Alan is part of the story,” said Alex. “What is the first thing I am going to teach you as a parent? How to put on the mask? Are we going to have birthday parties or just video parties? ”
For now, the house will be his castle, until he can return to the world.
“No, we don’t want to raise our children in a bubble because that creates fear. That’s how they raised us, ”said Alena, who spent her summers at her grandmother’s farm in Mandeville, Jamaica, milking cows, picking vegetables, and playing on the foothills of the hills. “How do you live in a world that you don’t control? It is like a roller coaster. You can cry, but you are so you better enjoy it. “
So they chose optimism about the alternative, cemented in the faith they have developed with the other faithful of the Miami Vous church, which has broadcast masses on the Internet and offers a daily noon prayer on Instagram.
“Panic and paranoia don’t help. Humanity has been through much worse things and we can adapt, “said Jean. “It is as if Remy has come to focus on her instead of the coronavirus misery.”
Remy’s arrival could be interpreted in different ways. Or perhaps babies born in 2020 will grow up not only hand-washing addicts but also as saviors of the world.
“We have lost a lot during this crisis, and despite everything, they are still being born,” said Alena. “Children remind us that the promise of the future is real.”