top of page
Writer's pictureMaxi-Ann Campbell

Living through an Epidemic

I interrupt my new Mom blog posts to talk about my situation right now in China. I think the coronavirus situation first became real to me when a student sent me an oddly worded email requesting leave from my class on Thursday, January 23rd. She had returned from Wuhan the previous weekend, and she was required by the university to undergo medical examination. At least, that’s what I heard from the other students in my class. I will admit that I spent much of that class worrying that I had already accidentally introduced the virus to Alaya, as this student was in class on Tuesday.

Fortunately, that afternoon, I got another message from the student asking where to submit the homework assignment as she was back on campus. I assume that she wouldn’t be if she had tested positive for the coronavirus.

Each day after that Thursday, the situation would become exponentially concerning, and I don’t mean just the number of people infected. It was already planned that January 24th to January 30th would be the Chinese New Year holiday. However, the university asked us to work from home on January 31st and February 1st, as they would use those two days to install temperature checks. Upon return to our normal work and teaching schedule on February 3rd, we would all have to have our temperatures checked before getting onto campus.

Then it was announced that the university would not resume classes until February 17th, and no one would be allowed on campus before February 15th, unless they were classified as “essential” staff. Suddenly, we would have a three week, mandated break including the week of the holiday. With this update, colleagues began deciding to return to the US or their respective home country. It seemed better than being cooped up at home for 3 weeks. If Alaya had a passport and the means to leave the country, I would have considered doing the same.

A few days after that, it was announced that the university would not resume classes until February 24th, and it would do so online. This was quite the shocker for me. I again began to wonder about whether I should return home. However, Alaya not having a passport was still a problem, and I wasn’t sure how quickly we could get her one. Even if we got one quickly, we would then need to get her an exit permit.

It’s a bit complicated, but Alaya is currently a Chinese citizen. She’s a Chinese citizen because her father is a Chinese citizen and doesn’t have permanent residency in any other country. So, even if we had given birth to Alaya in the United States, the Chinese government would still consider her a Chinese citizen. She has automatic birthright citizenship for China because of Ben. For the US government, however, I need to complete a Consular Report of Birth Abroad (CRBA) to get Alaya US citizenship. There are forms to fill out, documents to notarize and copy, and of course we’d need a 2×2 inch photograph. We also have to do all the application materials for the passport. It costs $215 and a trip to the embassy to establish Alaya’s birthright citizenship for the US and apply for a passport. All that to say, we haven’t gotten around to it. In fact, it was our plan to do that during this holiday so that we could travel in the summer.

In addition, since the Chinese government does not recognize dual citizenship, we need to renounce Alaya’s Chinese citizenship (another set of forms and about $250), and in the meantime, get her an entry-exit permit to leave the country (another set of forms and more money). Both require a trip to Ben’s local, meaning place of hukou or residency,

Entry and Exit Bureau. Alaya needs the permit with her US passport because a Chinese citizen (which she will be until the renunciation goes through) cannot leave China on another country’s passport. Make sense? If not, that’s okay. It all mostly means, in order to get Alaya US citizenship, a US passport, and the ability to leave the country, it’s going to take a good amount of paperwork, several trips to different authorities (consulates, notaries, bureaus), and about $1000.

Even so, when Delta decided to cancel all of its flights between US and China until the end of April, I still went a little crazy trying to figure out if I could get Alaya an emergency passport or something to get us out before February 5th. That mania ended after a few hours though, not just because I honestly think it’s impossible but because I don’t think it’s necessary.

The World Health Organization (WHO), whose guidelines I follow when it comes to taking care of Alaya, suggest that there’s no reason to limit trade or travel. I think what China has done to limit the spread of the coronavirus within and outside the country through targeted travel restrictions is sensible action. I think it can help us weather this storm quickly and effectively. I think what Delta and other airlines have done is a bit drastic and only promotes hysteria. Even so, as each new colleague noted that they too were leaving before they couldn’t, I felt afraid.

What if Alaya gets sick? Was there more I could have done to get us out? Why didn’t I prioritize getting her a passport before?

I think I’m not that afraid of the coronavirus. At least, not anymore afraid of it than I am the flu, which is quite deadly this season. I can’t protect Alaya from anything, and I don’t have control over anything. I know this. It’s always been true, and it remains true. What’s causing my fear is the “what ifs” and the “will I be able to forgive myself if.”

Perhaps there was more I could do to have left. Perhaps leaving would have put her at greater risk. Perhaps we’d arrive in China and her weakened immune system from the jetlag would have made her susceptible to another virus. Perhaps things will get a lot worse in China and we won’t even have enough food. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

All I can say is that we’re here. We’re together. We’re as safe as we can be.

This is so much more than the people suffering from this awful virus can say. So, now I turn my thoughts and prayers to them. Giving them my support, both financially and in spirit is the only thing in my control at the moment.

And when you move from the mania to think of others, you start to feel gratitude. I think the practice of gratitude is an important foundation for joy. While taking care of Alaya during the 4+ months of my maternity leave, I deeply wished I had the opportunity to stay home with her during the spring semester as well. I wanted to take care of her at home until she was a year old at least. However, I knew that wouldn’t feasible for us financially, and even if I could afford the pay cut, I’m not sure it was an option without quitting my job.

Suddenly, after only three weeks of being away from her 4-5 days a week, I am now being encouraged to stay home as much as possible. I can still work. I still get paid. I don’t have to pump. And though it’s certainly harder to work from home because Alaya doesn’t quite understand that sometimes Mommy has priorities besides her, I still get to spend a good amount of time with her. I also get to create a schedule that maximizes our time together. I can cut out the commute time, the pumping time, and occasionally even enjoy a nap together.

For my family, at least, this epidemic has caused stressed and fear, but far beyond that, it has given Ben and I time to bond with our daughter. We are deeply sorry for the families who are suffering at this time, and my post doesn’t mean to take away from that. I just want to show my gratitude during these times of uncertainty and change. For the sake of the public at large, I hope that this storm passes quickly.

3 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page