Am I working? I don’t know how to answer that. I feel like I am working 24 hours a day, six days a week. Who doesn’t now? My family and I are seven people in an apartment like the rest of the world, staying indoors and trying our best to maintain some sense of normalcy and routine when there is absolutely no order in the world right now—let alone in my home or in my life, for that matter.

I can’t see clients in person or do treatments.I can't see clients in person or do treatments I miss my clients, miss the personal human touch and contact with them, as well as with my friends and peers. My clinic is empty and so, like most of the world, is our tangible source of income. Tomorrow, what will be tomorrow? I don’t know. I just pray we make it through today. I, a mother of five, have a full-time job and yet I am not working, at least not officially. That is, not officially, except for my doula clients.

Yes, for them the world hasn’t stopped, and their babies will be born when they will be born. Virus, no virus, souls are still coming into this world, and as of right now, I am still allowed to go to the hospital to help these women.

Sunday morning my cell phone, which has been so quiet lately, rang. It was a woman who was already a few days overdue. She isn’t calling to tell me that she’s in labor. She calls me to talk about her worries and all the thoughts going on inside her head. Not only about the present situation, but about her past long, difficult labor.

To summarize, the majority of her thoughts were not positive ones. I understand. Who could blame her? But she kept going on and on about her worries and fears, and I stopped her.

I validated her for a sentence and then I had to stop her because she only had so much energy right now, and to use up all that energy on negative thoughts … what good would that do for her? I told her leida (“birth”) in Hebrew is made up of two words: leiad Hashem, the Hand of G‑d. Just put yourself in His Hands. Just focus on being in His Hands. We don’t know anything. We don’t know when, how, even which hospital is the best place to go to right now.

“Just put yourself in His Hands.”

I couldn’t see her, but I could hear by her voice, her breathing. I calmed her. She thanked me, and we hung up.

Isn’t that good advice for us all right now? We spend so much energy worrying. We need to stop, take a breath and remember: “I am in G‑d’s Hands.”

My own shoulders drop and my body relaxes, and I say this to myself: “You are in G‑d’s Hands.”

A few hours later, my phone rang again; it was her. She told me that she thought that her labor started. She was nervous, but calm. We repeated our plan, which was for her to put herself in G‑d’s Hands. I told her to take a relaxing warm shower, and that we would be in touch in an hour.

An hour passed, and I called her. She was still in the shower. Her husband told me that things were picking up, but let’s speak in another hour. I told him a half-hour and hung up.

Two minutes later, he called me back. ThingsThings went surprisingly quickly were suddenly going very quick. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door. The streets were empty. No one was out. Jerusalem is eerie in its emptiness and quietness right now. I wonder how it is in the rest of the world.

I must have made it to her home in 15 minutes. There was a surprise when I got there. An ambulance, a room full of paramedics—people with masks and gloves, and there was my client, a minute after her baby boy came into the world.

What happened? Things went so surprisingly quickly. In a blink of an eye, she was ready for birth, and that moment (and no, I didn’t make this up), a neighbor walked by, one that she didn’t know, who just happened to be a gynecologist. As the ambulance arrived, that neighbor—curious by the noise and commotion—ran into the home and delivered, with gloved hands, this woman’s baby.

The Hand of G‑d? So clearly! Thank G‑d, everyone was healthy and safe.

I myself couldn’t believe what happened as I saw the crowded room and heard the cry of the baby. Truly, it is as the sages say: Yeshuat Hashem k’heref ayin, “G‑d’s salvation comes in the blink of an eye.” Was the whole thing already over? The baby was here, and all those fears and worries about what would be and how it would be and when it would be are gone.

Overnight, the world has become paralyzed. There is so much worry and fear. So many things have happened; so much is happening. We are all going through a birth of sorts. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring; there’s so many unknowns.

We are in the month of Nissan, the month of our redemption. Passover is a few days away. He redeemed us then, and He can redeem us now. I have no control over anything, except for one thing … to put myself in His Hands and to pray—that like for this new mother—G‑d’s salvation will come in the blink of an eye.