Assuming my sweet daughter arrives on schedule, my husband and I will become first time parents in a month. I knew she would be ushering in a whole new way of life for us, but I never imagined the true scope of change we would be experiencing in the weeks leading up to her birth. As a practicing attorney, just a few weeks ago, I was contently filling my days working from the offices of my thoughtful, caring West Palm Beach law firm. Today, the world looks so different than it did a month ago, or even yesterday. It's surreal how everything feels so hectic and, at the same time, at a complete stand-still.

At this point, early March seems like a lifetime ago. The hostess for my baby shower had just received the invites back from the printer, and we both decided it was for the best to postpone the original date to sometime in the future (still TBD). I know this is small potatoes compared to everything else going on, but I'm not ashamed to admit I'm sad about the outcome. My first born follows fertility heartbreaks and emotionally (and financially) tolling IVF. I was excited for her shower—to celebrate her long-awaited arrival. I haven't brought myself to accept the likely reality that my husband's family (from out West) and my family (only a couple hours away) will probably not be able to visit our little girl right away.  I'm anxious because she is not being born into the healthy, peaceful and prosperous world I prayed she would be. I'm acutely aware that one of the happiest moments of my life will come simultaneously with so many people suffering immense pain, whether it be personal illness, loss of a loved one, or financial difficulties, or devastation.

Dramatic Changes at the OBGYN's Office

I see my OBGYN weekly for an ultrasound and other monitoring because a few factors place me in the "high risk" category. At last week's appointment, many coronavirus-related changes to the standard operating procedures had already gone into effect. The visit was restricted to the patient—the waiting room no longer filled with excited couples or expectant mothers toting around their other tots. The day before the appointment I was screened via various pertinent questions to determine whether I was symptomatic or had possibly been exposed to the virus.  When I arrived for my most recent weekly visit, just three days ago, the changes were even more drastic. Everyone working in the office was wearing a mask and I was (happily) required to put on one too. I was quickly ushered from the front office to the ultrasound room, and then the examination room, to avoid crossing paths with another patient.

As the weeks have dragged on since the start of this sad saga, my wonderful medical professionals and their staff have appeared increasingly beleaguered. And how could they not be? They and their colleagues are putting themselves on the front line amidst this uncertainty and mayhem. My heart aches for them and I am overwhelmed with gratitude for their willingness to continue seeing me and their other patients. While telehealth is possible in many settings, it's impossible to conduct an ultrasound remotely. Without their brave continued care, I would have no way of knowing that my baby was continuing to grow happy, healthy and blissfully unaware of what is happening on the "outside."

I have been asked, given all that is going on, whether I'd considered a home birth, birthing center or some other alternative to a hospital. I'm glad these are options and have nothing but respect for parents who choose these routes. Personally however, barring unforeseen circumstances, I cannot imagine forgoing the peace of mind and attendant "comforts" that come with a hospital birth. I'm remaining optimistic that although my hospital has restricted all visitors, my husband will still be allowed to be at my side throughout the experience.

Outside My Pregnancy Bubble

There are, of course, vast changes to the world outside of my pregnancy bubble. I'm immensely proud to be part of the South Florida legal community. It has been amazing to see how quickly the judiciary, my colleagues and our ever-important staff have come together to ensure that justice remains ready, willing and able to serve our clients and the public. People are going to need access to the courthouse and legal representation—not just on the other side of this pandemic—but now more than ever. Even though the restrictions and closures to our courthouses have come swiftly and sweepingly, the virtual doors to the legal community (courthouses and law firms alike) have been swung widely and enthusiastically open.

Without diminishing the dire reality that surrounds us, I am confident that we will get through this and hopeful we can reap some benefits along the way. Before COVID-19 hit, I was anxious but excited to transition to my new role as a full-time attorney and a parent. Now that remote practice has been foisted upon the legal community, I hope we can hold onto and continue to foster our new virtual skill set. I think everyone (not just parents) would benefit from increased flexibility in our everyday practice and lives. I am incredibly fortunate to work at a firm that had the foresight to make changes that would allow for working remotely if that ever became a necessity, as it has now. When I went to my partners in early March, anxious about my health and pregnancy, they immediately allowed me to start working from home. Because of the changes they had already put in place, it was as easy as packing up my laptop, wireless mouse and switching on an app on my smartphone. I know the flexibility of a remote practice will be immeasurable to me and my firm in the coming months—I hope others can embrace, adopt and benefit from a similar change.

In the meantime, stay safe.

Megan Wegerif is an attorney at Reid Burman Lebedeker Xenick in West Palm Beach. She practices complex commercial and business litigation, land use litigation, personal injury litigation, professional liability, and labor and employment litigation. Wegerif can be reached at [email protected].