My husband and I both had bad cases of the coronavirus. Here's how we parented our children while sick.

• When Jericho Vincent developed the coronavirus in March, she was sore, out of breath, and could barely walk from one room to the next.
• What Vincent feared most was she and her husband getting sick at the same time.
• Several days after the mother of two fell ill, her spouse developed the disease too, and the couple struggled to care for their young children while feeling debilitated from COVID-19.
• Vincent shared seven things that helped her get through those two weeks, which she describes as one of "our hardest experiences as a family."
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It started last month when I felt winded. The next day, I was short of breath, exhausted, and sore all over. I didn't have a fever or a cough, so I hoped it was just a cold and anxiety.

By day four, walking to the bathroom exhausted me. I couldn't read a paragraph without my brain fogging over. When my daughter yelped a little too loudly as she pretended to be a cheetah, I couldn't muster the power to tell her to stop.

I developed chest pains so severe, I was certain I was having a heart attack.

I called my doctor, and based on my symptoms, she said I should presume that I had COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus.

My husband sent me to the couch and took over childcare duties for our 8-year-old and 17-month-old. He helped our daughter log into her virtual classroom and then chased our son who tried to scale the kitchen chairs to use as diving boards.

Neither one of us could get our work done, but at least my husband was healthy enough to take care of our children.

But then three days later, my husband fell ill. That's when my worst fear of this pandemic was realized. How would we parent our two young children, while ill and quarantined in our apartment?

Altogether, my husband and I were sick for two weeks, which I can say was one of our hardest experiences as a family. We had to cut corners in places we never otherwise would have, and find strength to support our children when we could barely make it from one room to the next.

We struggled and suffered, but we made it through. These were the seven things that helped.

Ask for support and get advice from people who have already had the disease

At any other time, friends and family would be tripping over each other to help us get through a serious disease. But during a pandemic, everyone is living in constant fear of infection, and struggling with job loss and quarantine. There was understandably little that our community could do to make it better.

During the first week of our illness, our kids ate sliced turkey, pizza or cheese sandwiches for every meal. That was all we could manage.

Once we communicated to my husband's parents just how compromised we were, they started dropping off home-cooked food at our door. I've never tasted anything better in my life. Those meals were a lifesaver.

The few people we know who had survived the coronavirus checked in with us every day and shared advice and encouragement. Their support, tips, and loving text messages made our days a little easier to bear.

Accept that you have to take short cuts with your children

Hands down, the most difficult aspect of our illness was the one I dreaded most — caring for our children while feeling so sick.

My daughter needed constant assistance logging into her remote classrooms on Google Hangout and Zoom. She needed help completing her assignments and figuring out how to submit them. My son pulled at our sweaters, begging us to read to him and play with him.

We took all the shortcuts we could. My son had never watched television before this. But now, "Peppa Pig" blared for at least an hour a day. We plied both kids with new toys we'd ordered online, trying to buy ourselves a little space, a little time to rest.

Hair washing was nixed altogether. Until we ran out of clean underwear, we did no laundry. We rewore jeans smeared with the baby's sticky hand prints and sweaters that smelled faintly like sweat. We did not put up a fight when my daughter insisted on wearing her favorite blue velvet dress four days in a row.

It's advisable to not hug or kiss your children, but that's nearly impossible

My doctor told me to try to isolate myself from my kids to protect them from getting the disease. I found that advice nearly impossible to follow.

Both of my kids were already upset from sheltering in place. Our 8-year-old daughter was suddenly cut off from school, friends, and gymnastics practice. Our son could no longer go to the playground or take a walk around our neighborhood.

My normally sweet daughter suddenly needed to be threatened to get dressed, share toys with her brother, or eat dinner. My son struggled to play on his own, and constantly fussed and whined.

Avoiding physical contact only made things worse.

When we told my daughter that she had to stop climbing into bed with me in the morning, she was distraught. When we tried to redirect my toddler's attempts to hug me, he was inconsolable.

Which risk was graver — giving our children COVID-19, or increasing their already considerable stress?

In the end, the choice was made for us. Once my husband and I were both sick, we were too weak to handle the unending tantrums that resulted from our attempts to physically distance from our children.

To minimize their exposure, I tried to hold my breath when I held my toddler. I attempted to cuddle with my daughter with our heads angled far apart from each other.

Your children could get the disease, but try not to feel guilty about it

You've likely heard that children's risks are low for the coronavirus. They only represent 2% of all cases in the US.

But keep in mind that they can get it, and it can be insufferable for them.

That same night my husband started to exhibit symptoms, my baby woke up at midnight crying. His body was hot and his cheeks were flushed. In the morning, my daughter's eyes were shadowed and she complained that her lungs felt "crackly." Neither of them had fever, and neither was bedridden. But my son was fussy and glassy-eyed for four days, while my daughter was achy and exhausted for three.

There was a lot of whining. A lot of fussing. A lot of crying. All four of us were miserable. I felt awful that they got the disease, but — thankfully — their symptoms were much milder than mine and their illness passed quickly.

Don't apologize to your partner for not being able to contribute

Because my husband's case was less severe than mine, he ended up shouldering the childcare and household responsibilities, while I lay winded on the couch.

"I'm sorry," I kept telling my husband. "I'm sorry I can't help more." Each time, he would tell me that my getting better was what mattered most.

"You haven't done anything wrong, don't apologize," he said, "but I wouldn't mind a 'thank you.'"

This helped me to reframe my discomfort. I could be grateful for my husband's strength and graciousness, but I didn't have to apologize for being too ill to do more.

You're not a failure for being compromised by this relentless disease.

You will likely mess up as a parent, and that's OK

Throughout my illness, I experienced severe chest pain. My doctor said that due to my age — I'm 38 — it was unlikely that I was experiencing the cardiac problems that some COVID-19 patients develop.

Each time another wave of pain hit, my husband and I would talk in code, trying to hide our fear that it might be life-threatening.

One afternoon, my daughter, who was understandably impatient, hugged me a little too aggressively — pushing on my aching ribs. In agony, I snarled at her to get off. She jumped away, terrified.

I felt like a failure for losing my temper, for not prioritizing my daughter's trauma above my own pain. In our culture, we hold up parents—especially mothers—to impossible standards. But it's very difficult to care for others when you are suffering and not receiving adequate care yourself.

As soon as I caught my breath, I apologized to my daughter and assured her of my love. We repeated the process four hours later, and the next morning, and later that afternoon. Being ill with this mysterious and frightening disease pushed me to my very limits, again and again.

Decide how much information to disclose to your children

Even before I got sick, my daughter told my husband and me that she didn't want to hear about the coronavirus anymore.

To honor her request, we didn't go into details about my illness, even when my symptoms got more serious.

When she tried to interrupt our hushed conversations to watch another show or ask questions about her online classes, we snapped. Why couldn't she show more deference?

We realized that was an unreasonable expectation, since we hadn't communicated how serious the situation was. So we sat down with her and carefully, doing our best not to scare her, explained the gravity of the disease. After that, she was much more respectful of our boundaries.

All parents who have COVID-19 are going to have to navigate how much to tell their kids, understanding that the answers may shift with time.

Become your own advocate

There's still not enough reliable information available about the course of COVID-19 and healthcare workers are, admittedly, learning as they go. My doctor, for example, couldn't explain why I was experiencing intense chest pain.

On one particularly bad night, after my husband found an article about the coronavirus' potential to infect heart tissue, my anxiety grew so intense, I had a full-blown panic attack.

Later, I learned from a doctor friend on the front lines that there's growing anecdotal evidence that COVID-19 can cause severe acid reflux in young patients, and those symptoms could mimic those related to heart failure. Perhaps that's what I was experiencing. But before I learned that, I was living with crippling fear.

Meditate and acknowledge how tough this situation is

To cope, meditating worked best for me. It didn't eliminate my fear, but it made the fear itself less frightening.

This is a hard time for everyone. Especially for parents who fall ill, and even more so for those who are single or who develop severe forms of this disease.

Be gentle with yourself. There aren't always right answers. Remember that this may be traumatic for your children. Remember that this may be traumatic for you. Allow yourself to be afraid, and hold close those whom you love. In your most painful moments, know that you are not alone. There are so many of us fighting this battle.