It’s Too Late

The guilt was so heavy I had to turn my body around and cover my face with my hands. The memory is so vivid I almost re-live it real time when I recall it. Hearing him cry, knowing he was being forcefully held down and “shot” was excruciating. We knew. We had done our research, we had made our decision, and yet somehow we still ended up right where we didn’t want to be.

My sweet little baby

And then the fever came.

It stayed for several days. We did everything “they” told us and the escalating temperature wouldn’t waver. Never will I forget the devastation I felt when I heard on the other end of the line “theres nothing we can do, he’s already had it and it sounds like he is having a reaction.”

Do you ever envision yourself throwing a toddler-shaped tantrum? I did that day. I wanted to storm into that office with my chubby little four-month-old miracle baby and demand a refund for this “life-saving” concoction. Even though I knew it was impossible, I wanted to beg for them to take it back out.

IT WAS TOO LATE

“You cannot know what you do not know.” Not the most profound quote, I know. You probably won’t find it hovering above any name on a monument. However, the simplicity yet importance of those words are never lost on me. It’s simple really… we have one life. We have our own experiences. And as far as me, and our household, we still have freedom to make our own choices.

So who am I to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do? Well, frankly, Im not. Only God can do that. And this is in no way meant to judge or condemn anyone reading. I just cannot ignore what I`ve seen, heard, read and personally experienced. If you wanna know what you do not already know, continue perusing this article. If you truly don’t want to know, stop here but know that at some point in time, you’ll know.

Great, you’re still here! I want to mention that many (and I mean many many) people have told me that I don’t know what I am talking about. They’ve said that I am making things up, am not an “expert” and that I am just a crazy mom. Seriously I have heard it all and I don’t accept any of those things. No, Im not a virology-certified immunologist, and I do not work for or get paid by the FDA, CDC, or big Pharma. So sure, you might call me one-sided but I say many of the “experts” are severely biased. But here’s what I do have in my arsenal- seventeen years in the medical field, nearly a dozen pregnancies, four natural childbirths, and thousands of hours of research on this subject. So take what I share here however you want to, Im going to confess it anyway. Here are three experiences I have had, and they are just a drop in the bucket of the many more.

1.) It was just a regular day on shift, and I was nearly eight months pregnant with my oldest son. The MRI suite was particularly slow that day so I had some time to get to know my families prior to inducing their child (aka putting them under anesthesia). I found it strange that the dad kept crying, given the fact that he was tall, strong, athletic, and had some military insignia on his jacket. But I let him speak, offered an ear, and mustered a seemingly insufficient “I am so sorry” once he finished his story. He and his wife had three boys. They always wanted a little girl but had pretty much resolved that they were going to have little men. But then, 15 months before that day, they had a princess. She was gorgeous, her brothers adored her, and she was (as many fourth kids are), super advanced in her development. He shared that she would blow bubbles, make silly faces, and run towards her daddy like nobody’s business. She was the light of their home. He told me that where they lived previously in the northeast, they could always politely decline the injections at the well visits. He had transferred to Florida very recently for work and the daycare she was to go to, “required” her to be fully caught up. So they let the office give her whatever “they” needed to. As I looked at this sweet little girl I was about to anesthetize, my heart broke. She was drooling, her eyes were bouncing back and forth pretty rapidly, her head was cocked to the side and she could barely sit up on her own. As I assessed her, I didn’t notice that the father had started silently sobbing. That guttural cry where no sound comes out, but it hurts from the core. He was begging for his baby to come back but she was “gone” he said. The guilt, despair and agony were so thick, I had to step out for a minute before returning to the room. He said they hadn’t been able to find a single thing on imaging or testing. He told me he was absolutely convinced that the injections caused her loss of milestones, and that he would spend every day of his life fighting for her and everyone else.

I was SLAYED. Before then, Id never questioned the narrative I was provided. The healthcare community always cheered “Shots are great, shots are grand, don”t ask questions, just be part of the plan.” That day changed everything for me and I went down a research path that I never knew even existed. My coworkers thought I was absolutely off my rocker to even suggest that something could happen from an injection. They’re “safe and effective” and that’s all folks.

2.) A year earlier, many of us in healthcare had declined the annual flu shot because it was known to be less than effective at keeping up with the present year’s strain. But there was a paradigm shift about 9 years ago. Somehow we all decided that “they” were giving us a good flu shot this time. So after many years of saying no thank you, I got one. Forty-eight hours later I felt like I had sandbags on all my joints. I was burning up and my throat was a pile of razor blades. Two of my coworkers felt the same way. As our fevers raged and the culmination of side effects took over, I couldn’t help but notice that this felt just like the flu. No I hadn’t had it before (ever in my adult life) but my patients had, and they did a fine job describing their woes. Everyone I talked to (and I mean everyone, I couldn’t get one coworker to admit it) said it was strictly coincidental and that I must have been getting sick before I took the shot. I felt like I was on the Truman Show. Like uhhhhhh helllooo? Is anyone out there watching this? I researched some but because I didn’t know where or how to look things up, I came up a bit short. Nonetheless, I decided I’d never take another one because that ten days of sickness was the pits!

3.) After my son had his first (and only, and last) shot and had that fever for a few days, I started noticing changes. Of course it was all “coincidence” and I was just a new (working) mom and thats why he had all these issues. I wasn’t buying it. He all of a sudden had skin issues, itchy eyes, constipation, “colic” and reflux, sneezed constantly, I could go on. We decided as a couple that as for our house, we wouldn’t be partaking in this ritual ever again. Right around that same time, I met a neonatologist who told me how to research. He was the only one who listened. Did you know that in the NICU, those tiny babies code (meaning cardiac arrest) after getting their shots? When I spoke with a few Neonatal nurses about this, they said they just know they have to have the code cart whenever they administer these concoctions because they babies will often “try to die on them.” Good thing my face shows my feelings well because I didn’t have to say out loud how ridiculous that sounded. Those poor things go through so much just to make it outside the womb so early….

I will stop here because honestly, it is painful, and by now I know someone out there is truly questioning their previous, current and future decisions, I get it, trust me. No matter what you decide to do, fellow mommy and daddy friends, PLEASE, I beg of you, ask good questions. Expect good answers, because you deserve it. DO research. Seek out non-biased studies. Ask no less than twenty friends how their kids did. Not just the day of but the weeks following. Join groups. Ask real parents. And most importantly, make a God-directed, prayerful and unified decision. May the Lord Bless you and keep you. And may you never have to hear those dreaded words- “its too late.”

To be continued…