Otto David was supported to be born at HSHS Sacred Heart Hospital in Eau Claire. But when it was announced the hospital was closing, his family's plans had to change. (Photo by Emily Wichman)

After experiencing my second pregnancy during the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic and delivering in November 2020, I was looking forward to my third birthing experience being a bit more “normal.” The birth of my second child was fraught with loads of uncertainty and fear regarding a virus that was still widely misunderstood. I wore a mask to every prenatal appointment, which affected my connection with my doctor. I worried about contracting COVID-19 during pregnancy. There were extra precautions at the hospital. No visitors were allowed. My husband and I weren’t allowed to leave the room once we checked in, and my husband needed to wear a mask whenever medical professionals were in the room.

My third baby was due in March 2024, four years after the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. I was thankful that this time, a pandemic wouldn’t be looming over my pregnancy and birth. But there was another curveball that showed up in my third trimester. I read the news from a hotel room in the Wisconsin Dells: Eau Claire’s HSHS Sacred Heart Hospital was closing down at the end of April. I was in disbelief. Knowing that hundreds of people were affected by the closure, I felt selfish worrying about how it would impact me. Sacred Heart was the hospital that had hosted the births of my first two children. It was also where I had gone to urgent care in my college years. Something about it was special to me, and I was excited to have all of my children there. At first, the end of April was reported as Sacred Heart’s end date. But information continued to change rapidly.

The former Sacred Heart Hospital. (Photo by Andrea Paulseth)

At each appointment with my OB-GYN, there was new information. Different closing dates for different departments, different requirements, different policies. And for some reason, the thought of not delivering this new baby at Sacred Heart scared me. I didn’t want to go to a hospital that was unfamiliar. Eventually, Sacred Heart moved up its closing date for the labor and delivery department. Now my choice was either to induce early and deliver at Sacred Heart or make another plan. For a brief moment, I considered early induction. 

That was when I realized I needed to dig deeper into why I was afraid to deliver somewhere other than Sacred Heart. Was it just a desire for familiarity? I contemplated the important role that places have in our lives. I have lived in Eau Claire since 2009, and in that time, I have lived in two college dormitories, three apartments, two duplexes, and one house. All of those places hold memories for me, and some of them still get the occasional drive-by when I’m in the neighborhood. But the memories that those places hosted hold a far greater importance than the places themselves. The dorm I moved into as a freshman, the apartment where I first lived off campus, the duplex where I brought home my first baby – the memories mean more than the places.

This realization that memory holds a higher importance than place allowed me to loosen my grip and let go of control over the circumstances surrounding the birth of my third child. Wherever he was born, I would be safe and my doctor would be there. And though the place looked and felt different, the differences faded away once I felt a new, tiny person placed on my chest. All I could see then was Otto David. The place didn’t matter anymore.

The writer and her family. (Photo by Emily Wichman)