Week 36: Vaccination and the Can of Worms

36 Weeks
Romaine Lettuce


Wowza, what acrobatics this boy seems able to still manage in this ever-shrinking space between my ribs and pelvis! My abdomen contorts into the most unusual of shapes. As one can imagine, the sensation of my internal organs being shifted around feels less than pleasant. Hard to believe I'm a mere 28 days from the due date (which means, I could be as little as 14 days away from his arrival - barring any catastrophe). His number one job is to get chubby. He's gaining an ounce per day. He's probably about 18 inches long, maybe more. No wonder the jabs I'm getting from the inside feels so much more painful!


So, in keeping with the current, lots of new debates have sprung up over vaccinations vs. not, or on delayed schedule with some selecting-out of specific vaccines. Most of the new debates stem from the rising outbreak of the measles, a highly communicable disease that had all but been completely wiped out from the U.S. until a few years ago. First, there were one or two cases, then a few more. We're in the triple digits of new cases, which is unheard of for a disease that had supposedly been eradicated through vaccine use.


I posted something earlier today that captures pretty much how I feel about vaccinating. It follows below.

This is long. I'm sorry in advance.

I expose myself daily to the threat of death by motor vehicle accident every time I get into a car (and, in MD/NoVA/DC...I'm pretty sure the risk is higher). I also know that, despite the fact that we entrusted people who manufacture airbags in cars, I might get seriously injured by an airbag in the event of a crash (and it has recently been exposed that the #1 manufacturer of airbags has royally screwed up). I also know that my ribs might be broken if I wear a seatbelt. Regardless of these possible issues, I know that wearing a seatbelt and keeping my airbags turned on will SAVE MY LIFE if I get nailed by someone while driving on the beltway. So I do it. I do it with the expectation that the decisions of another driver put me at greater risk if I fail to protect myself from them.

I look at vaccinations the same way. I trust the science behind the diseases that are highly communicable and have been nearly eradicated from the planet, save for the few who have chosen (for whatever reason - personal, religious, medical vulnerability, or other reasons) not to vaccinate. The same science that tells me that I am 95-99% safe from acquiring a disease with potentially lethal health outcomes IF I vaccinate. Yes, I question the FDA. I know drugs get approved for reasons other than safety or public health concern. It's political, too. But, when something has been independently researched using dollars that did NOT come from any pharmaceutical company NUMEROUS times, nearly all yielding the same or similar results, I do not question the safety of the vaccines over the level of risk I am taking to go without.

I grew up in a world where there was no varicella vaccine. I had to have the chickenpox. Did I go blind? No. Did my fever fry my brain? No. Do I have scars? A few. Was I effing MISERABLE? Yes. So...I can give my child a shot that will hurt for a few seconds and keep them from being miserable AND keep them from having to deal with shingles later in life (1 in 3 people who had chickenpox go on to get shingles - so it's like the gift that keeps on giving - yay). Yeah, I'm on the side of preventing unnecessary suffering for my babies that will last into their old age. And it hasn't even been around long enough to have been critically evaluated by independent research on NEARLY the level as numerous other vaccines that have been around longer. I do it anyway. I've never had mumps, measles, or rubella. I wouldn't wish any of them on my worst enemy, so I damn sure won't risk my kids getting them. And because I know pertussis can kill babies, I got my TDap shot at 28 weeks of pregnancy because it will start my unborn's antibodies to build up and protect him until he can get his own vaccination at 6 months. Yes, I vaccinate.

I know that if I choose to take my vaccinated children to Disneyland someday, they will not expose the unvaccinated children with terminal illnesses who are there with Make-a-Wish Foundation, getting their wish to meet Cinderella. I also know that the decisions of others around me (again, for whatever reasons they may have), can potentially affect me or my children (just like the other drivers on the beltway). So I will do my utmost to inoculate my kids (and myself) against communicable disease (to get my 95% effective rate) and stay as far away from exposed individuals as possible, whenever possible, to aim for 100%.

Because, unlike choosing not to wear a seatbelt while driving in one's own car, choosing not to vaccinate could hurt someone else.

Intervention

Wow. It's been nearly one year to the DAY since the last post. Two little kids with their two parents in graduate school is no joke.

This (year's) post title, "Intervention," seems appropriate on multiple levels. When life gets so busy that you don't have time to stop and.... I dunno...breathe the oxygen, it's time for someone to knock you upside the head and tell you to slow down for a second. While we spend the majority of our time running around like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, we do actually get a few moments to pretend we're a "normal" family. Of course, I use the word normal loosely. I firmly believe it's a setting on your washing machine and nothing more.

Today was one of those days we got to be somewhat normal. When I titled the post "Intervention," the intent was a little different than the aforementioned. My children, ages five and two, have now gotten to the wonderful age where arguments occur. Maybe even brawls. Today's example was when the 2-year-old boy asked (in the sweetest, most polite manner I've ever heard) his big sister if he could play with one of her toys, she SCREAMED in wild protest, "NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!" To which, the boy cried huge, devastating crocodile tears.

No one was harmed in this exchange. Physically, anyway. I often wonder as a parent when I should intervene. I wanted to do it today, but I did not, and here's why:

I have a rule I use with the 5-year-old on tattling. She is REALLY bad about doing it ALL the time. She doesn't get the concept that, "Nobody likes a snitch." Instead, I've resorted to providing clear-cut examples of when it is appropriate to "snitch" and when it is not. Bottom line: it's okay to tattle when someone is in danger or if someone's property is in danger. I'd like to take credit, but my sister let me borrow a book called Help Me Be Good: Tattling (one in a great series, actually) that helped a lot.

Anyway, I figured the same rules should apply to me. If nobody is in danger, and nobody's stuff is in danger, I should really let them work it out. They need to problem-solve on their own, and they'll never get practice if I keep breaking it up all the time. While I certainly wouldn't just let them go wild, I think they are not in the right mindset to accept a "teaching moment" (read: a lecture on the proper way to negotiate) when they're already in the throes of a knock-down, drag-out tumble over a toy.

The husband and I try our best to demonstrate clear examples of how to problem-solve as a team and negotiate the terms of a compromise. Additionally, there are plenty of opportunities to observe other kids or even use television (I know, I know... the evil box that sits in the living room babysitting other people's kids) to show where the actors (or cartoons) could have done something different.

Besides, I'm tired of screaming, "Knock it off!" from the top of the stairs.

Relocation

We are a military family.  For those who don't know, one of the biggest challenges faced ROUTINELY by military families is the instability created from frequent moves.  Often, these moves can be from one side of the country, or even the world, to the other.  In the last two years, we have had a deployment, a move from Washington to Georgia, and a move from Georgia to Alaska.  Now, we are scheduled to move from Alaska to Maryland in a matter of days.  The impact of such changes can be brutal to a child.

For example, our daughter was (sort of) potty trained while we lived in Georgia.  Then, somewhere between packing up, spending time in North Carolina and Virginia with relatives, and driving across half the US and Canada before arriving in (no kidding) North Pole, Alaska, she became "untrained" all over again.  It took months to recover, and she still has some inexplicable and VERY preventable accidents.  Case in point, about a month ago, she stated she needed to use the potty, then proceeded to stand in front of it on her stool with her pants down, and pee on herself rather than just SIT DOWN on the toilet that was touching the back of her thighs as she stood there.  Infuriating!

This next move will be no less than a logistical nightmare.  We have two cats, two children, two adults, a car, and a house full of stuff to move over 4,000 miles.  We are splitting the family to accommodate all of our needs as best we can.  My husband and daughter will go first, with the cats, house-hunting and visiting with all our east-coast relatives.  The baby boy and I will remain behind to tie up loose ends and so I can continue to nurse him.  I also must face the incredibly challenging, expensive, and yet important task of shipping frozen breast milk east.  It will likely cost over $100 to send a mere 48 ounces of frozen milk over that great distance.  But it's like gold to me.  I literally get teary-eyed when I have to pour out even two ounces that the boy didn't finish at daycare.  Could you imagine tossing 8 full feedings' worth?

Our daughter has shown great resilience in these challenges with moving.  With the exception of the pee and poop accidents (that have seemed to dwindle down to a rare occurrence - mostly due to distraction), she has been able to adapt well to all the changes.  I wonder if her baby brother will be able to show the same kind of resilience?  Well, he is only 3 months old.  He won't remember.  But she will.  I wonder how she'll be able to face the loss of her friend, a little boy a few months younger than she is, whom we'll visit for the last time today?

Feels like the first time.... almost.

I have noted several similarities between our girl and our boy.  And, despite the obvious biological difference, many other differences as well.

Our son J is already 4 weeks old.  Actually, he is 4 1/2 weeks old now.  At 4 weeks, he can lift his head up (which he did at two days old in the hospital).  His sister did the same.  Thus, I was not surprised by this (this time).  He has also smiled, cooed, and gave me a full-on belly laugh which I really wish I'd caught on tape (if not for the fact that he was nursing at the time).

A major difference between our son and daughter is how exceptionally needy the boy is.  He wants to be held much more than his sister.  He cannot be put down for long before he is yowling to be picked up again.  The baby swing, though not used nearly as much for E, has been a savior for J.  Well, a savior for us so we can put J down while we do laundry or something.  He was in the swing long enough for me to clean the poop out of my daughter's underwear (she had an accident at school today), but shortly after he was wailing.  As of now, he is peacefully curled up against my chest as I type with the keyboard sitting atop the Boppy pillow behind him.

In similar parenting efforts, J moved to his own room last night (at about 4 1/2 weeks), just as his sister did 3 years ago when she was his age.  I am thankful that the effort to do so went off well and we all got more sleep than the previous weeks.  This would be a huge can of worms because everyone has his/her own opinion on it (and there is mounds of research to go either way) but I do not consider co-sleeping (as in, sleeping in the same room - NOT the same as bed-sharing) beyond one month worthwhile.  I do not consider bed-sharing to be a good idea in the slightest (although I admit to subconsciously caving in to this as I have fallen asleep while nursing several times).  I will address these concerns in a separate blog, but the main point here is that when co-sleeping I hear every little squeak and peep he makes.  This makes my night very long and arduous and sleep is fleeting.

Delightfully, our son seems to be as charming and as curious about the world as his sister was.  He also seems to be a lover of his own image in a mirror and already seems to know when a camera (or camera phone) is nearby.  He will be a flirt, and I'm excited to see his personality develop.  Even if he's a little needy right now.

E is THREE!!!

Yesterday, my firstborn turned three.  It is absolutely impossible to imagine the road we've taken over these past three years (nearly four, if you include the pregnancy too).  Today we will celebrate with friends while enduring even more of her obsession with Thomas the Train.

She says things that embarrass us, cause us to laugh hysterically, anger us, surprise us, and sometimes all of that happens at once.  She does things that infuriate us to no end, and she does other things that just melt our hearts.  Her smile sends us over the moon; her (real) cry breaks us into a million pieces.  Her fake cry annoys us.  Her secret language baffles us, as does her command of vocabulary in English and even a little Spanish.

We just never know what each day will bring us, and we're reveling in this short period of time we have left with just her before our world changes again with the arrival of our son in (more or less) a month.

Single Parenting...

...Even on the temporary (which is the case for me), is INCREDIBLY hard!

Every spouse who stays at home with their children while their Soldier/Sailor/Airman/Marine is deployed for a year or more, every mom or dad who has to go it alone for one reason or another, I salute you! After walking a mile in those shoes after a mere 3 months of it, I realize that single parents have the hardest job of anyone.

They also have great time management skills, can multitask like nobody's business, and probably live on like 18 minutes of sleep a night.

To all you single moms and dads out there (whether by marital status or geographical location), YOU ROCK.

E is TWO

Two years ago today, E was born. She is our first child. She is probably the most wonderful, creative, imaginative, perfect representations of both my husband's and my best (and worst) qualities.

With toddlerhood (and more importantly, two-year-old-ness), comes the magic word we have come to understand as "NO!" No nap, no lunch, no milk, no clean up, no Mama, no Daddy, no come here, no bye-bye, no-no-no-no-no. All of these are fashionable for a toddler to try on. The best we can hope for is that she will tire of it quickly.

The majority of her antics are on full display around naptime or bedtime. These are some of the more creative adventures we've had in recent weeks with our very own "little monster" :

• While my mother (who snores) was lying down beside E to help her fall asleep, my mom accidentally fell asleep also. On the first snore to escape Mom's lips, E sat BOLT UPRIGHT in bed and (very seriously) asked, "Who farted?"
• When she was supposed to be napping, my mom went to check on her and caught her sitting with her back to the door. When asked what she was doing, E responded, "E is a bad girl." On closer inspection, she'd taken all of my mother's post-it notes (like 24 pads) out of cellophane and began sticking them all over everything in sight.
• When she was supposed to be in bed, we found her asleep on the floor, with a sock on one hand, a boot on one foot, and the other foot bare.
• On waking from a nap, she yelled down the hall from her room (which is protected with a baby gate). She wanted to be taken out, so she yelled, "Anybody? Hello? I want to get out of this gate."

E is quite a little charmer as well, and has tried everything to prolong the bedtime routine. She asks for the cliche "drink of water" as well as for "just one more book," and has also been more direct in stating that she wanted to "go back in there [living room] and play with toys."

Her speech is quite amazing for someone so small, and her vocabulary is vast and rapidly expanding. She says some of the craziest things, like, "Oh, my Lo-o-ord!" and "Careful, Mama!" when you have to hit the brakes really hard in the car because of other maniacs on the road. She is also a backseat driver, telling me when there's a red light, and that it means stop.

She is a clever little one, and definitely the most fun and challenging little thing I've yet faced. Can't wait for the rest of this year and whatever is next!