For black mothers, the need for support during birth is even greater. Black women are 2.5 times more likely to die in childbirth than white women—at least in part because of institutional racism.
"We never thought it would happen to us because we were so careful," Barker tells Motherly, adding that she chose to share her story on social media because she doesn't want other families "to take even just an ounce of risk" when it comes to spreading the novel coronavirus.
"We are alone. Together. You are surrounded all the other mothers who are navigating this tender time in isolation. You are held by all of us who have walked the path before you and who know how much you must be hurting. You are wrapped in the warm embrace of mama earth, as she too settles into this time of slowness and healing."
"I feel punished for having to be the 'good guy.' I have to send my 3.5yo child away. I won't get to visit her. I won't get to hug her. I won't get to tuck her in at night. We have FaceTime, and that's it. For up to a month, or who knows how long...and many of my coworkers have had to do the same."
With both of us now sick, we set the bar at survival. We took turns with the kids. We wore masks and gloves to make their food. We begged them to put themselves to bed. We tried not to seem sick, even though we took one step forward, another back.
