It’s 10.30pm. I just got off the phone from the GP hotline. My son is vomiting. His temperature is 38.5. He is whingeing, shaking with goose bumps and his heart is pounding. He had his four year old vaccinations today.

At 10.30am this morning, we were at Tamarama Beach checking out the Sculptures by the Sea, jumping in the waves. He was as well as he could be. At 11.30am he was immunised.  sculptures 1

I’ve never been a fan of the jabs but my guys are up to date. Usually though I’ve held off with each one. Particularly the newborn/infant shots. I just cannot see my way around how it can be good to inject Hepatitis into a pure little body made from nine months of a healthy womb living.

My eldest guy (6) has been completely fine with all his shots, but Mr 4 reacted to his 18 month vaccinations which made me nervous about this round. It took about an hour after his 18 month immunisation to get the hospital worthy, raging fever that lasted two days. He didn’t have a sniffle before it. Just like today. Perfectly well and then terribly not.

I did discuss these concerns with the GP today and we decided to meet in the middle – leave the MMR (hoping to avoid reactions), and do the rest: diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis (whooping cough), and polio. Jesus, just reading this list makes me cringe. It’s so much.

What makes me cranky is how I didn’t stand in my child’s corner.  I second guessed myself and took on the judgments, insults and pressure from the media, from the medicos, even from my friends.

It’s been an hour and half since the vomiting and a dose of Nurofen. His temp is 38.9 and he is sleeping restlessly, panting, whimpering.

For the love of the children of our world, I am grateful for the miracles of modern medicine. For the love of my child, I wish I had made a conscientious objection today.

Author: Sharon Quill

Share This Post On

Thanks for reading! Got something to say?

%d bloggers like this: