I vividly remember the day that Pooka received her MMR vaccine. It was a sunny May day. My bumbling little toddler just began walking - what a milestone! Pooka was so strategic in almost everything she did. So much determination, unimaginable determination of a little person, trying to find their way in this world. Beginning at eight months old she could be seen climbing up and down the stairs. But she wasn't trying to climb the steps; she was trying to walk up and down the steps. She would practice over and over again. I wasn't sure if she just had some fascination with climbing or if she felt that by walking up or down in an upright position - it meant that she was that much closer to being like the giants amongst her. Climbing or should I say, walking up the steps was just one of the traits she showed that told me she did not want to be left behind. Her verbalization and object association also seemed slightly advanced at eight months. I can recall her picking up the telephone, screaming out "TeeTee," an endearing term used for her Aunt. She was so interested in people, always delighted to be shared with strangers. Never flinching at an unfamiliar face or crying when left with someone she didn't know. At eight months old, she was a miniature social butterfly. Pooka loved people. She loved watching people, she loved being around people. This is why on this sunny day in May, as we approached the familiarity of the pediatrician's office, I was completely baffled at her response.
Pooka had no interest in approaching all the children and adults that could be seen on the other side of the glass door of the doctor's office. She had no interest in the smiles of strangers and absolutely no interest in spreading her butterfly wings in this very social atmosphere. She was in fact, repelled by the thought of even walking toward the office door. Pooka's behavior was so odd and off on this May day that I actually paused before entering into the familiar setting. In that moment of pause, I wondered what exactly she was trying to demonstrate to me...my little bumbling toddler that can only successfully say up to five words. What was being communicated here on the steps of the peditrician's office - me nudging my bumbling toddler forward while she screams and runs the other way? Should I not allow our kind, jovial doctor to inject toxic chemicals into my baby's body? Should I wait or cancel this procedure? I mean since Pooka has been alive, all of fifteen months, she's probably been to the familiar pediatrician's office more than a dozen times. More than half of the visits have been for vaccinations. This was routine, a routine that even at fifteen months, she knows all too well.
I never had many doubts about the administration of vaccines. As far as I know, vaccines are necessary. They keep our children safe from disease and infection. I had all of my shots as a kid. I cannot tell you one single person I know that has had mumps or measles. I'm an 80's baby, we've all gotten vaccinated. In fact, the only childhood illness that I recall everyone having is the chicken pox, and I never even contracted that as a child. Now with the varicella vaccine, kids won't even contract chicken pox. This is a good thing, right? No, this is a GREAT thing!
Further quelling any doubt that may have erupted surrounding the safety of vaccinations are the government mandates related to vaccine administration. Yes, I realize my girls tend to get a little sick shortly after they've been given a dose of infectious chemicals but vaccination is a REQUIREMENT. A government mandated REQUIREMENT! I mean, how will I be able to register my kids for school without vaccinations. And really, I don't want my kids to DIE from mumps or rubella because, they can die from these diseases, can't they? I haven't bothered to look up the instances of death or total incapacitation related to catching one of these diseases. What's the point in researching vaccine side effects? Vaccines have saved the entire world from deadly diseases. Mankind has come a long way and has made this magical solution available to children everywhere. And I live in the USA. The United States of America is the best, brightest country in the world. Here in the USA, we have an FDA and the FDA would never, EVER recommend and promote products that aren't overall beneficial for their fellow Americans. I'm an American. My daughter is an American. America takes care of American's.
And here I am, standing with my bumbling toddler, who is running away from the doorway of safety. As I glance at her, trying to get a clue, I don't see frustration in her eyes...I don't see anger or defeat...I don't see hatred in the eyes of Pooka...I see fear. As I pick her up and make my way across the safety threshold, I feel as though I've made the right decision, the smart decision, the healthy decision for the best future for my baby. Pooka doesn't know any better, she's only 1 year old. I sit waiting with slightly unsettled anxiety, my bumbling toddler weaving her way out of my arms and dashing toward the glass doors with tears in her eyes, crying...pleading. If she could only tell me what was troubling her. I begin to feel that maybe I shouldn't pursue this today. But then again, what could go wrong? My three year old has had all these shots and she is absolutely fine. I am confident in my choice to stay and wait for our turn to meet our destiny.
© Heather Berg 2013
