To vaccinate or not to vaccinate, that is the question

In the last few months, I have, for the very first time, been challenging myself as to my vehement and ardent beliefs that vaccines are necessary and good. I decided that if that is a fact, then I would have no problem reading the information written by those who are concerned about vax effects on our children. So, I'm just beginning the journey.

I have recently come across a Christian physician, Dr. Russell Blaylock, who is opposed to routine and mandated vaccinations. Although I have known some Catholics who are anti-vax due to the presence of fetal cells lines in many of the immunizations, I have not encountered anyone "in real life", as opposed to online, who has an ethical objection based on this variable. So, the information I'm discovering is fairly new to me, and there are no peers or mentors who have opinions with which I can discuss it. An interesting position, this, and one more and more common in this Internet age.

At this moment, I am absolutely, more than one hundred percent committed to continuing the vaccination for meningitis, brand name Prevnar, effective against pneumococcal bacteria. I've seen firsthand the devastation this disease has wrought on infants and children, and I'm committed to being as cautious as possible when it comes to meningitis. My task in the next month or two will be to evaluate the other routine vaccinations The Bear will be scheduled to receive, and thankfully, due to my time mismanagement skills, I have been given some grace time. At 9 months old, he has only received up to his four-month scheduled shots, so he's relatively vax-free at this point. I'll be posting my thoughts as I travel down this road of vax information and try to separate the agenda from the facts.

Sir H. was reading his "mazagines" earlier, and had some "growl-a" bars for breakfast. They used to be "ranogla bars", but time is too fleeting when it comes to precious mispronounciations. The Bear is now accustomed to falling asleep on me, as I lie in a half-coma, so I type this with him fussing at me from his bed while I sit in the chair next to it. He's a snuggle buggie, and I love it.

Sick sucks

I've been sick quite a bit this year. I am sure, by now, that it is a result of having two kiddos under 4, a husband who works 14 hours a day, and not getting enough sleep. I am going to have to figure out how to take better care of myself. Any suggestions for immune-boosting ideas are more than welcome. So far, I'm taking probiotics (which haven't done much but give me...well, excessive bathroom time), trying to eat more fruits and veggies, and I was taking Airborne quite frequently, every time I was feeling cold or flu-like.

Unfortunately, this week I pretty much bottomed out. I was struck at around noon on Tuesday with a migraine unlike any I've had before. Thankfully, my dad was around, and he took me to the doctor and my wonderful doctor (we affectionately refer to him as Dr. Jesus, Jr. due to his ways of salvation when we feel so badly) gave me a elephantine shot of Stadol. I slept in a narcotic buzz through the next two days. On Wednesday evening, I felt well enough to get up and eat, and noticed, through the haze of narcotic, that my mouth was disturbingly painful as I ate some chicken strips. I dismissed it and went to bed.

On Thursday morning, I awoke to find that I had a mouth full of canker sores, ulcers, whathaveyou. I prefer to call them demon-pains-from-hell, but whatever. Again to the doctor, who gave me an anti-viral and some lidocaine. On Friday morning, I woke up with vomiting and diarrhea. Yep, the stomach bug had decided to pay me a visit, because I wasn't feeling badly enough. So, I feel human today, but still woozy.

Sadly, my nursling, Bear, isn't getting much nourishment at the breast, and that has caused me unending guilt and worry. My big boy, Sir H, is constantly asking me if I'm okay, so I know he's worried and hopefully, Daddy's pulling through on that front. I'm lucky if I can choke down 300 calories a day, and it's just not cutting it. Thankfully, the end is in sight. My mouth is better, my tummy seems to not be revolting after a meal of mashed potatoes and Gatorade, and I can cross my fingers and pray for a good night's sleep and a healthy day tomorrow.

Bear is nine months, on the 1st, and I can hardly believe it. He has been standing since he was 7 months old, just stands right up from a froggy squat, and recently, added clapping and "yayayayayayay!" to his repertoire as he stands. He loves to be snuggled, loves to sleep pressed up to you skin to skin, and nurses constantly.

Sir H is a very, very busy little guy who has a billion friends and makes new ones everywhere he goes. He is constantly on the look for "peelbugs", asks if we are driving on the "hivewave" to San Antoooonio, tells me, "Mommy, we don't say, 'shutup'", and sees "websites" (spiderwebs) everywhere we go.