Baby Pays the Price for Rigorous Vaccination Practices

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CDC vaccination policies do more harm than good

A combination of doctor trickery and parental ignorance led to a great deal of pain and suffering for our baby Tuesday night.

I have always wondered about the controversy surrounding infant immunizations and the adverse impact on young children. I’m here to tell you folks – there is great reason to fear your doctors and their half-assed policies regarding shots for babies.

Our pediatrician (not for long) told us that our 11-pound, 2-month old baby needed two shots and an oral Rotavirus vaccine. Three doses of WHATEVER seemed like a lot for such a tiny creature – but like an idiot – I deferred to the doctor. Moments later, we found out that these two shots actually contain FOUR different vaccinations. Now I’m pissed and praying that the baby is ok.

Turns out that praying was not enough, because four hours later – the dam ruptured and all hell broke loose. Out of nowhere – Maddie started screaming with a desperation we could not have even imagined in our wildest dreams. She was inconsolable for nearly two hours and clearly suffering from her vaccine cocktail. We contacted the on-call doctor who told us that this was a very rare reaction to the shots. Being lied to by a witch doctor didn’t make the situation any better at all.

Despite all the warnings from friends and family who had bad experiences with their kids – we just had to learn the hard way.

Watching my baby suffer has made me a true believer in the ineptitude of the CDC and these so-called medicinal practitioners. There is no reason to load up such a little person with such a potent cocktail of drugs when these vaccinations could be spread out over time.

The CDC and its rigorous shot schedule is for the birds. It is completely up to the parents to modify the shot schedule and defy both the pediatricians and our wonderful friends at the CDC.

Our doctor was very slick – but our eyes have been pried wide open. One shot at a time is more than enough from now on – but thanks anyway.

Whatever You Do – Don’t Wake the Baby!!

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Waking the baby could signal the end of civilization.

The fact that my wife and I are completely ready for bed each evening by 8pm each is a pretty stern indicator of how life has changed a bit since the arrival of sweet baby Madeleine less than two weeks ago.

Sleep for all three of us has become an intricate game of cat and mouse.

During a recent car trip, Maddie was sound asleep with about 60 miles yet to drive. But Daddy was losing his edge and we had to make a high-risk stop to refuel the batteries. High risk because we risked incurring the wraith of the one they call Mad Maddie!

We glided to a gentle stop while I did a commando roll out of the vehicle applying just enough pressure to shut the door without any offending noise or vibration. I silently fled the vehicle in search of some caffeine.

I was gone no more than 90 seconds when I noticed my wife frantically signaling me from the passenger seat. It instantly dawned on me that the Phoenix must be stirring from her slumber – and our DEFCON Threat level had just been elevated to PANIC! The seismic readings were registering off the chart and my mini Mt. Vesuvius was ripe for an eruption!

Go Go Go – All hands on deck! This is not a drill. I scrambled towards my post, silently praying that all was not lost. I got to the driver’s side door initiating Silent Delta opening procedures while using Ninja breathing techniques to slow my heart rate.

As the door opened, I could sense the creature’s restlessness – I tried to strengthen my resolve, “Steady man, she’s not a lick over seven pounds!” But who was I trying to fool; those tiny lungs could rupture eardrums and shatter windows! The Banshee was nearly awake.

My wife silently implored me to get the vehicle in motion – as she dared a glance into car seat in the back. I slipped the car into reverse and the briefest of shockwaves hit – Maddie was coming to and she did not sound pleased!

I fumbled with the gears and got the car into drive – we didn’t have a prayer! We made it to the ramp heading for I-95 – hitting each gear seamlessly and praying for a miracle. My wife and I cringed as our daughter emitted a little grunt and cough – here we go – All hands, Shields Up, Brace for impact!!

I eased off at 60 mph and locked in the cruise control. Silence radiated from the back seat like a beacon of hope and promise.

A few miles down the road – we realized that we had dodged the bullet. With the crisis averted – Gina and I smirked at each other, basking in the satisfaction of the great escape. However, we also knew that although Maddie was asleep – she was plotting her next strike and next time we would not be so lucky!