This Mother's Heart

Today has begun like most days do. The cats have all been fed and there's hot coffee in a mug on the table beside me, as well as more in the pot in the kitchen. The date on the calendar has been changed and the thermostat turned up to a suitable daytime temp. A quick check of the driveway confirmed that my son made it home safely last night. All the little routines that generally bring me a sense of order and calm have been performed. Yet, I sense a bubble of apprehension deep inside. 

Maybe it's because I was off yesterday, and there is always a fear of not knowing exactly what you'll find when you return to your classroom the next day. Did everything get done? Did I leave something vital out of my plans? Did the kids rebel in my absence? In over 25 years of teaching, I've experienced it all, so any apprehension in that regard would not be misplaced.

I think, however, my worry is a bigger and more personal one. Today, my son is getting the first dose of the Covid-19 vaccine.

His father and I have both been vaccinated as have my in-laws and several people I work with. Personal experience should ease my mind. But one word pops into my brain whenever I connect the vaccine with my son: anaphylaxis.

Ever since I learned that some people experienced an anaphylactic reaction to the vaccine, I've been worried. The memory of my son's own anaphylactic reaction to a peanut butter cookie when he was not quite two years old still resides vividly in my brain. The fear was so strong watching my baby cough and wheeze that just recalling it all these years later brings tears to my eyes. What if it happens again and I'm not there to make sure he gets the care he needs?

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It has now been over seven hours since my son's appointment. Happily my fears were not realized. He made it through with nothing more than a sore arm, at least so far. 

And this mother's heart couldn't be more grateful.