Pandemic Motherhood Diary, Entry 39: A Birthday Without COVID

“I’m so excited!” That’s what our oldest son said to us every day leading up to his birthday party. After weeks of preparation on our part and months of suggestions on our son’s part, his birthday was finally here. It arrived on a cold and rainy day, which only contributed to the apprehensive feelings that we were suppressing. This was happening, and we were sure. This would be the first time we celebrated a birthday outside the four walls of our home since the pandemic started.  

Our now five-year-old son was just three months old when the lockdown happened. He has had four birthdays at home with his parents. Three of them included his baby brother. He has gone to two of his cousin’s birthday parties but has never experienced one for himself. Sure, he’s had cake, candles, a gift, and balloons. He’s had two birthdays acknowledged in his classroom, bearing gift bags and snacks. He has had the moment to make a wish, blow out his candles, and dance to the loud music we played for him because we knew how much he loved to dance. But an actual birthday party, where family and friends come together just to celebrate him? That has never happened until now.

The “pandemic birthdays” have become the norm for many. We have seen the large yard signs and  drive-by parties meant to lessen physical interactions while acknowledging one’s special day. Some articles have compiled the best ways to celebrate birthdays during a pandemic. All of the ideas seek to preserve the celebratory aspect of recognizing life and the privilege it is to see another year. That needs to be acknowledged now more than ever.

So, here we were; parents scrambling, hoping, and praying. We stepped out of our bubble like babies, taking steps for the first time. We were eager, but let’s face it, we were scared. We went into this knowing what the worst thing that could happen was. Everyone catching COVID-19, of course. Would all of that joy be for nothing? Were we being naive? Were we being irresponsible?

At the last minute, we decided to mask our fears and take him to the place we dreaded most; Chuck E. Cheese. He has always passed by the place and seen commercials, but he had never been – never because I had always associated the place with germs galore. We watched as our son raced back and forth to the trampoline zone. He and his brother played games and ate pizza and fries endlessly. He shared laughs with his cousins and friends and even got a picture with Chuck E. Cheese himself. For the first time, we just watched. We watched our son experience his first actual party.

After months of making suggestions and talking about them daily, our son got to have his moment. Everyone sang “Happy Birthday” like he wanted. Blowing out candles was received with applause like he wanted. He opened gift bags like he wanted. In essence, it was also his first playdate with his friend from school, as he had wanted.

It has been two weeks since his party. There have been no reports of anyone testing positive for the virus. We are grateful. A small part of me wants to feel some hint of shame or a moment to chastise myself for throwing this party for my son. I want to because since the pandemic began, I have lived in the fear of “what if.” But for a few days, that little voice took a backseat and enabled me to make party favors, banners, and invites. It enabled me to breathe and just watch my son celebrate his birthday loudly for the first time. For that, I am not just grateful. I am hopeful. 

Melissa Menny is an author with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Journalism. She is a poet and a writer in all aspects. When she is not working, she enjoys painting, music, and spending time with her husband and two sons.

This is the most recent in a series of essays about raising young children in the COVID era. Read entry 38 here.