I never thought I’d find myself here, in the waiting room at the pediatrician’s office with my anxious three year old beside me. “Why do I have to get a shot?” She asks the question like it’s punishment and in a way, it is, but not for her.
For me.
"Because shots are important, they help keep your immune system strong." I tell her, as she begins to pinch the skin on my knuckles. "But it’s going to hurt, I’m scared!" she cries, and her words hurt worse, but she doesn't know that.
I reassure her that I know, that it will feel uncomfortable because it’s something new and it’s normal to feel scared when you have to do something you haven’t done before but that she will be okay, that we will be okay— even though I’m consumed by guilt.
She rests her head against my arm and inches her little body closer; the pinching gets harder and more frequent. I smooth her hair down and kiss the top of her head, breathing her in. I know she’s nervous and upset, and I know that she doesn't really understand this new concept of vaccines and shots— and it’s my fault.
When I was pregnant, I felt alone. I didn't have many people to turn to for advice or for guidance with the journey I was going to undertake. So, when I found a few platforms on social media sites where I could connect with other parents, many first time moms like myself, I was overjoyed. The prospect of bringing my little girl into the world didn't seem so overwhelming once I had people to talk to, people who shared common interests and concerns with me, people I could bounce ideas off of and people I could trust.
The anti-vaccine movement was affluent on Tumblr and on the mommy groups I frequented on Facebook, so much so, that before I even had a chance to question vaccination, everyone assumed I just wasn't going to do it. I didn't think too much of it at first, because I had never viewed vaccination as something to fear. However, the more I read about the risks and harms associated with vaccines from the parents I truly admired and looked up to, the more weary and apprehensive I became for my own daughter.
Emery was actually up to date with her vaccinations until her 6 month well child check. I had complained on Facebook about how she had several ear infections and was met with a ton of feedback about how vaccinations had been linked to recurrent ear infections, and I was encouraged to consider delaying her 6 month shots. I did not necessarily feel that this was the answer, but I was directed to several blogs that detailed the connections between ear infections and vaccinations, so I hastily made the choice to stop vaccinating.
Interestingly enough, the infections did subside— but this was only short lived. She ended up getting more, and even though I could not blame the vaccines, I still felt like I was doing her a favor by giving her immune system a chance to strengthen naturally. I had the support of many other mothers who had real concerns about the safety and efficacy of vaccines, too, so I followed along, dutifully speaking out against the “toxins” inside vaccines, ingredients I had simply skimmed over, and not made any effort to actually understand, to parents who were equally as confused and vulnerable as I had been (and still was).
Despite the fact that I knew practically nothing about what I was advocating against, I had many friends and acquaintances who respected my position and backed me up. Wherever I found myself confronted with studies that were contrary to my belief, or ones that even completely dispelled my often regurgitated “facts”, I chalked it up to being “biased” or manufactured by people who had something to gain monetarily by supporting vaccination. I would scoff at parents who believed in vaccines and roll my eyes whenever I would see something markedly pro-vaccine cross my dashboard or my newsfeed.
I even privately bashed parents who began to rethink their stance on vaccines. I felt as though they were being hypocritical, advocating for a natural lifestyle but then deciding to vaccinate their children after they had been so vocally opposed to the idea. I thought they were the ones following the trend to get more likes or followers. I didn't want to admit to myself that one of the reasons I wasn't vaccinating was to be better accepted and included within my Internet community. I felt like if I reevaluated my decision, I would be deemed a hypocrite and that the relationship I had made with other mothers who had similar parenting goals and ideas would disseminate and I would be alone again.
I genuinely wanted to believe that my decision not to vaccinate was because I had legitimate research and data to support the idea that vaccines were wholly unnecessary and could do more harm than good. My decision not to vaccinate, though, was entirely based on fear— not on concrete data to support my position. It manifested into a desire to fit in and feel knowledgeable and accepted.
I have been fairly quiet about my decision to catch my daughter’s vaccinations up, but this is a choice that’s been stirring inside my head for well over a year now. I had been researching ingredients and adjuvants for a decent amount of time before I finally realized there was no way I could continue to deny the science behind why vaccinating is beneficial and advantageous to many people.
My light-switch flipped when I was on a thread with someone I looked up to that was vehemently pushing the idea that vaccines cause autism and the proof was in a clinic ran by a physician who touted that he had no cases of autism in his practice full of non-vaccinated children and adults. The physician, much to my horror, had actually ended up having 11 of his 12 medical licenses revoked due to his controversial use of Lupron therapy to “cure” autism and was the target of several lawsuits for a plethora of disturbing medical malpractices.
I knew then that I absolutely could not support the anti-vaccine movement for my family anymore, not when the people I had once admired were pushing claims by a physician that was chemically castrating individuals as a “treatment” for autism.
I left that thread more confident in my choice to rethink vaccines for my daughter, and I left knowing that I had to find a pediatrician who could help me better understand my recent change of heart.
Thankfully, we have found an amazing pediatrician who is patient, kind, and thorough despite the copious amount of questions I may have or the occasional reassurance I may need. I am not scared of vaccine ingredients or adjuvants anymore, and I am happy my daughter is able to catch up.
My daughter, Emery, has received two vaccines and we will be going back for a third next month. At this next appointment, though, I will hold my head a little higher and instead of feeling guilt for my previous inactions, I will feel proud that I've come a long way for my daughter.
And for myself.
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