Spread Cheer, Not COVID

I tested positive for COVID this weekend.

Well, my rapid test was positive, so I did the “responsible” thing and went home to isolate….with my husband (who had also tested positive), leaving Will in the custody of my parents.

I'm very lucky that my parents are super involved and help me out a lot when it comes to Will, but there is something singularly awful about leaving your son and not being able to kiss him goodbye. And there's something even worse about hearing that he saw a picture of you and started getting weepy. 

I've never been away from Will for more than one night since he was born and the prospect of isolating for days without my kid was a painful one. My heart felt like it had become untethered. Wandering, anxious and aimless, looking for a place to land, looking for home, looking for Will.

But, we made the best out of a lousy situation. John and I hunkered down and made like it was March 2020 - we binge-watched TV, we baked bread, we drank a bottle of prosecco and we hung out.

The next day, I got the results of my PCR test.

Negative.

The rapid test gave me a false positive.

The PCR is 99% accurate and says I don't have COVID...and I just spend the past 24 hours with someone who likely has COVID.

God, and I cannot stress this enough, dammit.

I went back to the testing center and took the rapid test and the PCR again this morning.

Negative on the rapid and still waiting on the PCR, so I'm crossing my fingers, holding my breath and hoping those two black cats I saw were good omens. 

Because while my kid is super cute through a plate glass window, he's even cuter when he's in my arms.

Get vaccinated, get boosted, get tested and wash your damn hands.