Friday, May 14

 

When my son was a baby it seemed like he got vaccinated constantly.  Of course we were going to the doctor for checkups constantly.  It was part of life when he was an infant and then a toddler.  There was DTaP, MMR, IPV poliovirus...the list goes on and on.  My husband was smart enough to keep record of it all and scan.  When I started writing this I wondered how many and how often and because of his meticulous record keeping I had it had my fingertips.  He's gotten a lot of vaccines over the years.

It was never fun.  He didn't like getting shots in his (then) cubby thighs.  Who would?  But it was important.  It was vital.  And while he was a sobbing mess for a while, it passed.

I'd wait nervously to see if he had any reaction.  To see if he got sick.  As far as I can recall he didn't.  (I could have forgotten, but I think you wouldn't forget that kind of thing.)  As a mom you worry.  You always worry.

When he got to nursery school, he did get sick a lot.  Or at least that's how I remember it.  He was never really sick...he was never scary sick.  For that I am grateful and I realize that his health has been a blessing.  Still I worry.  A mom always worries.

As a kid, I know I got sick a lot.  I know I missed a lot of school for a variety of ailments.  It's been a long time, but I can remember quite clearly getting chicken pox when I was in 6th grade.  I was a total mess.  I was out of school for a long time.  I itched and I scratched.  I still have a few scars.  They told you not to pick and/or scratch, but I did.

He is a sophomore in high school and thus far I don't think he's missed a day of school.  As I said, I am grateful for that.  However, if he DID get sick, I would be the responsible mom and keep him home.  I don't believe in perfect attendance records; especially if they come at the risk of spreading something to the rest of the class.  I've felt this way LONG before our lives were interrupted by Covid-19.

Today, after school (in person school...who would have ever thought two years ago that being able to be in a classroom would be such a blessing?), I am taking my son to be vaccinated.  Even though he is a teen, my husband is coming along too; just like he did when we took him in as a baby.

Today the final step begins.  He will be getting the first of two Pfizer Covid-19 vaccines.  Even before the FDA gave it's blessing for children as young as 12, we had a plan in place.  When the medical practice we go to said they would be vaccinating 12 and up and that appointments were to be had, we were on it.  (Ok, let me be honest; I was in the middle of something when the notification came in.  My husband jumped on it with my blessing.)  The notification came on Tuesday night and that evening we scored an appointment for this afternoon.

I'm not 100% how my son feels about this, but I know both my husband and I are excited...and probably a little nervous.  (Who wouldn't be?)  But this is it.  This is the beginning of the end.  After he is fully vaccinated in June, it means that everyone is our family (including our extended family) has been successfully vaccinated.  It means that we can be the family that we once were.  We can see each other. We can hug each other.  Something that I know both sets of grandparents are longing for.

Today, Friday, May 14, 2021 is vaccination day.  I'll be watching my son.  I'll be praying that he doesn't have any side effects to this or the 2nd shot that he will receive in June.  (Especially as he is part of an outdoor concert this evening.) But if he does, we will get through it.

And then we will breathe a sigh of relief.

Vaccination:  it's a beautiful word and it's a beautiful thing.