One mom's journey through first time motherhood.
A journal to her son, Tucker, inscribing his birth into this world, the lessons and tricks they learned along way, and what they are not telling you in the prenatal books and classes.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


The dreaded day had arrived. Vaccinations.

Thanks to Jenny McCarthy and one Supreme Court verdict, I was terrified to take you to the doctor. I had done my research. I read up on the side effects. I heard the testimonies on vaccinations and autism. I wasn't happy with what we had to do.

Is the risk of my child catching Tetanus, Diptheria or Pertussis seriously greater than the chances of these side effects from the TDaP vaccination? Simply running a fever and just being upset by the vaccinations is torture enough for a parent. And the autism scare, what if two days from now my child, my wonderful, happy, breath of fresh (and poopy) air child is suddenly non-responsive? How could I live with what I had done to my child? Knowing who he was and his personality that resulted from something the world told me I needed to do. How could I live with that loss?

At one month visit you needed only a single shot, Hepatitis B. You slept the entire day afterward. You can't tell me that wasn't a side effect. I asked the pediatrician that day about what concerns we should have over the vaccination. He responded by saying, "Who are you, the one that keeps everyone away from your child?". We didn't switch practices after that remark, but we certainly jumped to a new doctor within the practice. Am I not to have a say in my child's immunization schedule? Would I be a good mother if I didn't question what gets pumped into my baby?

Nevertheless, I let wisdom or influence or fear of the I told you so lead us back to the pediatrician, armed with your superman onesie and apprehension. Friendly advice told us the vaccines hurt us worse than it would hurt you, but I can't really say that was true. While you were the true angel you are throughout the visit, the shots (2 of them) clearly hurt. The nurse was quick to administer them, but you were quicker to turn so red I truly thought your eyes would have popped out of your head had you not had them closed so tightly. The bandaides could not have been put on quick enough for me to grab you into my arms and assure you all would be okay.

Like the brave boy you are, you settled quickly and managed to fall fast asleep against my chest, as if the short but extreme trauma had sent you into complete exhaustion. Even in your slumber, you clung to me, which was deeply heartwarming despite the situation which initiated it. Unable to let you go, the three of us sidled up to each other in the backseat of the car, thanking God we made it through the experience thus far. The next few days will not be without anxiety though. The watch for side effects begins.

In honor of our traumatic experience, you and I turned the occasion into a sick day... While your dad had to work, he did generously rented us a movie from the Red Box, the new release of Confessions of a Shopaholic. We spent the afternoon in our pajamas, cuddled up with boppy and blankie on the couch creating the warmth and coziness to keep me believing that you know how much you are loved and cared for.

Current Stats on 6/23/2009, 2 months:
Weight: 13 pounds, 6 ounces (95% percentile)
Height: 25 inches (95% percentile)
Head: 15 3/4 inches (75% percentile)

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