A Quarantine Miracle

Jessica Besbris and her husband, Dan Besbris, share in the joy of their newborn baby, Theodore, at UCLA Medical Center in Santa Monica, Calif. on March 25, 2020. (Photo Courtesy of Jessica Besbris)

Being a doctor during a global pandemic is one thing. Being an expectant mother during a global pandemic is another thing.

But being pregnant and a medical physician in the age of coronavirus? The combination is bound to create an experience like no other.

In addition to being a doctor at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, my neurologist sister was around eight months pregnant with my soon-to-be-born nephew when coronavirus cases began to be confirmed within the United States. My sister, known to me as Jessie Sedley, but known to patients of Cedars-Sinai as Dr. Jessica Besbris, is generally a remarkably optimistic person; but the past several months have shifted her demeanor to one much more categorized by fear and protectiveness.

“In the very beginning, when we started hearing about cases in other countries, and hearing about what might be coming, I think I was a little bit in denial, because that was the easiest course,” said Besbris. “But it started to become really clear, as I was approaching my due date, that that was not going to be the case.”

Even as cases began to hit triple digits, my sister was able to find comfort in the fact that there had not been any cases of coronavirus at her workplace, and could therefore “think of it as a more distant problem, something that was going on elsewhere.” She initially planned to keep working until March 13 -- her pre-planned start date for maternity leave -- but ended up starting her leave a couple of days earlier than expected, when her place of work began seeing COVID patients.

As if expectations weren’t already altered enough, my sister gave birth to my nephew at UCLA Medical Center in Santa Monica a week earlier than expected. This was not because my baby nephew, Theodore Howard Besbris, was oh-so-eager to see what all the commotion was about in the outside world, but because my sister’s doctors wanted to induce her before hospitals became even more overridden with coronavirus patients.

“We were entering the hospital knowing that there were probably patients in that hospital who were being treated for COVID,” said Besbris. “It was still a happy feeling, just like it was with [my first son] Asher three years earlier, but it was a very guarded and anxious happy feeling, compared to just pure happy.”

All family members were prohibited from being on the premises before or during labor, exempting my sister’s husband, Dan Besbris. And once my sister moved onto the post-partum side of the Labor and Delivery Unit, Dan had just a couple of hours with Theo before he was asked to leave the hospital. This was due to a rule that went into effect at midnight that very night. My sister was not too concerned about riding out the rest of the process alone, so long as she was discharged the following evening as expected.

At this point in the narrative, it should not come as a surprise that this plan was also thrown off-course.

“Right before I was going to be discharged with Theodore, I started noticing that he was having some breathing issues,” said Besbris. “The pediatrician wasn’t totally sure what was going on, and wanted to keep him an extra day. That extra 24 hours in the hospital was probably, so far, the hardest part of parenting this baby, because I was totally by myself… When you’re sleep deprived and have just given birth and are alone and scared, you start to doubt yourself and you kind of need that extra support.”

Thankfully, Theo turned out to be just fine and my sister arrived home to her family the following day. In the days since, she has been experiencing a whirlwind of emotions, as many of us are during this time. While seeing the silver lining of being able to spend intentional quality time with her quarantined family, Besbris is acutely aware of the ways in which the pandemic has impacted the world, some of which deeply trouble her.

Particularly, she feels sorrow for her three-year-old son, Asher. On top of adapting to having a new brother around, he lost his daily routine entirely: no preschool, no extended family, no friends, and parents who have suddenly become much more cautious and demanding.

“While we’re trying to adapt to having a newborn at home, we’re also trying to protect and support a toddler who’s really going through a horribly hard time,” said Besbris. “And he’s also picking up on our anxiety. When he goes outside, he has to ‘give space.’ We tell him, ‘oh, someone’s coming! Give space!’ and he has to ride his little tricycle onto the grass to make sure he’s six feet away from everyone. And when he comes inside, we obsessively hammer him to wash his hands… and these just weren’t things he had to do before. And so my heart’s just really broken for him at the changes he’s seeing in the world and the things he’s losing. Temporarily of course, but it has been hard.”

Luckily, Asher adores his baby brother and has taken his stress and anxiety out on his parents more than the newborn.

Theo is now five weeks old, and my sister has already taken note of a long list of differences between the way in which she cared for Asher when he was a newborn and the way she cares for Theo now. For instance, my sister has always proudly presented herself as the mom who “wants to rub the pacifier on the floor and then stick it in my kid’s mouth because germs are generally a good thing for babies to be exposed to within reason,” but coronavirus has turned her into a germaphobe for the time being.

Though she isn’t sure what effects this time will have on a child’s development, my sister is curious to see the long-term impacts on her children and children across the globe. The limited variety of touch, and the lack of variety of human interaction in general, is sure to have an impact, but Besbris is unsure of what that impact will look like.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the ways that this time will be studied when it’s over,” said Besbris. “I have no idea if it’ll mean that they’re more resilient or that they’re more anxious, or that they’re more allergic. I just hope that… we can protect them from the burdens of this time, and find ways to bring some normalcy into their lives and lots of joy. Try to mitigate those long-term effects.”

Though my sister does have anxieties about inevitably returning to work at the hospital, she feels an immense responsibility as a healthcare worker to do her part in this pandemic once her maternity leave is up, and has disregarded nearly all thoughts of potentially extending her leave.

“My colleagues are there, they’re there every day. And many of them have young children themselves. They’re on the front lines, and I am not,” said Besbris. "And, that doesn’t mean I’m changing what I’m doing, I’m going to stay home and take my leave… and be with my family. But, when I think about taking a longer leave… I do feel guilty that my colleagues are there and that I’m not. And so I know I’m going to have to go back practically, financially, and because it’s my responsibility. This is the career path I chose.”

As fearful and unsure as she feels about the future, the optimistic side of my sister still comes through from time to time. Whether her faith in humanity is legitimate or just a case of wishful thinking, she believes that things will get better if individuals continue to do their part.

“I worry,” said Besbris. “But, I’m just hoping that if people continue to stay home and act in the best interest of the general public, that by the time I do go back in August or September that at least the first wave is passed, and that hopefully we’re mitigating the second wave so that all of us, as healthcare workers, can feel safe taking care of patients.”

Listen below for the full-length interview between my sister and I.