A Struggle for Independence

A new phase of life has begun in our house.

Independence.

I have been preparing myself. I read the parenting websites, I have spoken to seasoned veterans. All of my sources have warned of this impending life experience. But who is ever prepared? How can you really be ready for your child to tell you "No Mom, I don't need you. I've got this"?

Yes, she is only 15-months-old. I do realize she does still need me (for nothing else at least as a chauffeur to the mall). But it was just one month ago that she had the courage to get up and take her first steps. She clung to my hand, timidly taking a few steps before clutching my leg for support. Now she will only take my hand if I beg and is tired of walking. She wants to run.

This morning as I dropped her off at daycare she gave me a hug and toddled away. Something I am always grateful for, because I would hate if she had trouble letting go. It is funny that now I am the one having trouble.

I try to find comfort in knowing other working mothers are going through the same struggles. There is support out there, in the forms of online discussions, meeting groups or websites. I am not alone. But if we're just being honest, it's really not reassuring that another mother struggles too, it just makes it suck twice as much.

What I do find comfort in is the belief that everything happens for a reason. I trust that God has a plan for our family. That plan may not always move in the direction we want it to, but I have faith that the outcome will be one that is right for us.

As for my little baby, I mean toddler, she is loving the world around her these days. Everything is new and wonderful. Each new event becomes an adventure in discovery. Even daily routines are another chance to practice developing skills. Her independence is giving her a confidence that could only come from, well, being independent. I guess maybe I am learning new things about myself as well; things only she could teach me.

Standing Firm

Don't get all crazy now, two posts in two days. Maybe it's a comeback. Maybe I've just got some extra time on my hands and need to get some weight off my shoulders. Whatever it is, I know you're excited.

Yesterday we had Addie's 12 month check-up, a few months late, I know. Addie was weighed and measured, everything looked fabulous. Then the doctor came in and after a very brief "Do you have any concerns about her development?" started listing all of the vaccinations that Addie would be getting that day. By the time she was done I counted 15 DIFFERENT drugs they were going to put in her body in just ONE DAY. Plus, one of the shots she wanted to consolidate and give her the same shot TWICE just because the shot was supposedly "recommended" at both 12 and 18-months. Every cell in my body told me not to let them give her all of those shots.

I should stop and say right here that although I have heard about delayed vaccination schedules and parents who choose not to vaccinate at all, I never really paid much attention to it. But today was different. I was not afraid of her getting a shot; she does great and only cries for a minute as soon as I pick her up she's done. And, like I said, it is not even because I don't believe in vaccinations. As a child who is constantly surrounded by new people and eats dirt/licks random objects in Target on a regular basis I do believe in the importance of being vaccinated. However, I am not okay with the amount of drugs they want to administer in one day, or the frequency at which they disperse this medication. As a parent that's my choice. As a parent I should have a say regarding the medical decisions of my daughter. Yesterday, something inside me clicked and I knew something was not right.

When I declined 10 of the 15 vaccines the doctor was pushing that day, the entire energy of the room changed. The doctor immediately stood up, said it [was] "the policy of Premier Medical Group that if even one vaccine is declined by the parent then the patient may no longer be admitted into the practice". My feathers were ruffled and my claws were on the verge of springing into action. I don't know who you think you're talking to, but you're not going to bully me into vaccinating my child. I said VERY CALMLY, "I understand if that's your policy. But I still refuse". She left the room without another word and not even 15 minutes later we had all of our paperwork and medical records and left the building. We were shunned. The most amazing part is that, because I was refusing vaccinations for my daughter I was not even allowed to be a patient either (because she was a family practitioner and both of our doctor).

I left with such a mixture of emotions. As a first time and still fairly new parent, I wondered if I made a mistake. Should I just listen to the doctor? Let her go ahead and give the vaccines, blindly believe what she says, because she is wearing the white coat? I mean, what do I know I'm just a new parent who has only had to take care of one child and I don't know much about the medical field. I spent all night thinking and praying. Now I am on the computer trying to see if there are other parents going through the same struggles.

What I came to realize is, I do know what I am talking about. Because no one knows my child better than me. The doctor may give her medical opinion but I should be allowed to have a say in my child's health care. I should be able to say no if something doesn't sit well with me. Above all, I should not feel crazy or insignificant because I do choose to question what is administered to my daughter and why.

Just ten years ago, parents did not have the resources available today. We had to trust in what our doctors said because they were the doctor and they automatically knew best. That's not the case anymore. What's more, health care has changed and the sheer amount and increase to which these doctors vaccinate is staggering. What little research I have done so far has shown me that different doctors practice different medicines, not all treatments work for everyone and if we don't question our own rights then no one else will stand up for us. So I am confident in the choice I made and confident that I have to be Addie's voice. I have faith that we will find a new doctor, a doctor that fits our lifestyle and our beliefs. And I am not going to let anyone push me into decisions that I don't feel are safe for my child, I don't care what color coat you have. You could be Joseph strolling in with your Technicolor Dreamcoat and I'd still knock your a*s out if you tried to harm my cub. Mama Bear out.

Puke and Rally

For the first post in over two months, I had to make this a good one. So for those of you who are offended by the word "puke" or may have a more sophisticated reading list that does not involve such vulgar words, well then this post is not for you.

I have used the term "puke and rally" many times. Most often during college, when it seemed to be an action that fit into (virtually daily) life. It is a term often used to describe one's actions while feeling ill (read: hungover) yet still managing to pull it together and continue on with life because of a particular event (i.e. continuing on to another party or a big mid-term exam). Back then, I thought I had this mastered. I was the queen of pulling it together and carrying on. Or so I thought.

I knew nothing.

Looking back, all I really managed to do was meander through four years without ever being dumb enough to actually get sick inside a classroom. The only thing involved in my "puke and rally" days back then was surviving long enough to make it back to my room where I could nap until my next required event (i.e. work or another party). NAPS?! I used to take NAPS?! This has lead me to the belief that college students are no longer allowed to use the term "puke and rally". It is hereby swiped and under the complete control of mothers. Specifically, mothers of children under 10. More specifically, mothers of children under 10 who are ill.

A REAL case of "puke and rally" comes from working a 12-hour day then coming home to find your child may not be feeling so great. You lean down, your hand goes to their forehead, you look in their eyes and then they puke all over you and you thank God your mouth was closed.

A REAL case of "puke and rally" is waking up with your sinuses as stuffed as a turkey's behind at Thanksgiving and a migraine threatening to blow your eyes out, but you still have to spend the entire day singing songs, playing games and exhibiting an all around jolly demeanor because it's not your baby's fault you feel like crap and they don't really feel like laying in your bed watching re-runs of "America's Next Top Model".

A REAL case of "puke and rally" occurs when you may (or may not) be ill but still must complete all of the cooking, cleaning, errands, yard work, entertainment, etc for the family because the term "someone else will take care of it" now always applies to YOU.

The only way to maintain and rise above with the mommy version of the "puke and rally" is because you know you're doing it for your little one. It is amazing to think that another life has their entire existence riding on the fact that you will succeed in your endeavors. I will accomplish what I set out to do because I want it for Addie. I may want to crawl back in bed, throw the covers over my head and sleep for 12 more hours but if she needs me I slap that smile on my face and start doing the chicken dance. Literally. And it's terribly embarrassing.

The difference with the college version and the mommy version of the rally is, with the mommy version, it's no longer about you. That's the best part. It's all about them. Unfortunately there is still a lot of puke involved in both.