Needles, The Great Debate

Liam got his first set of needles on our 4th wedding anniversary. I made Dave take an extended lunch hour to come with us to the clinic. I was nervous. Everyone knows why...

There is a huge debate right now about vaccines and autism. I told Dave when we were pregnant that if we had a boy that I would be watching our son every day for regression and signs of the impending diagnosis. That being said, Liam is a happy, healthy and thriving baby boy. We are so lucky to have him and thankful every day for his health. I pray every day that it continues.

When he was a few months old (a baby's first vaccines are supposed to be given at 2 months old) I phoned the health nurse to ask about making an appointment for his shots. Here is a run down of our conversation:
Me: Hi. My son is a few months old and I am phoning about vaccines.
Health Nurse: Are you getting them or not? (insert snarky rude tone)
Me: Umm, sorry. Yes, I am planning on vaccinating but he is already 3 months old. I just need some information.
HN: Oh, ok. I will connect you to your health nurse. What was your name? (Insert polite and friendly tone)
Me: What the HELL? (didn't really say this but thought it)

Now, I immediately understood why she was snarky at the beginning. She must hear a lot of mothers that have questions and concerns about the autism debate. She obviously disagrees with Jenny McCartney and the boat loads of other mothers that have said they experienced the link in their own children. I will not discount those mothers and their opinions and feelings at all.

That being said, I don't think that I could live with my son developing polio, a disease that could be prevented, either.

This is something I didn't walk into lightly, not for one second. Even after his vaccinations I am still wondering.

I had made an appointment before but had cancelled it because Liam had a slight fever. I wasn't taking any chances. Then August 18th approached and he was healthy, no fever, no sniffles, no coughing. I kept this appointment.

Dave and I took lil' man to the clinic. Liam made fast friends with the nurse, of course, he is a heart breaker already. But seriously, who could resist those dimples. She measured him and weighed him. Checked his progress on her list. Check, check, check. She remarked that he was ahead of schedule on some development (see, Grandma Terry, he is "advanced"). She made him smile and laugh. And then, she made him cry.

I held him and she did the first leg. He looked up at me like I had just broke his heart. Then mine broke. I got in a little snuggle. He didn't cry, just pouted and let out a few whimpers. Then she said that the next one would sting a bit more.

Then there were tears. Not a lot, but just enough to let me know that he had had enough and he was through with this lady. I felt the same way.

I still don't know if I made the right decision. Some will say that I did, and others will disagree.

I am hoping that I did.