Band Aids & Alligators: My Vaccination Story
In March 2020, my family’s life changed seemingly overnight when schools and businesses closed, play dates ceased, and masks became required clothing. As a parent, I had to determine how to keep my children safe and answer their questions without frightening them (even as I grappled with my own fears). I grew accustomed to answering “I don’t know.”
And, yet, I felt extraordinarily lucky. My family had a safe home and food to eat. My husband and I could work from home. Our kids’ school offered robust remote learning. We were very grateful.
Like everyone else, we experienced our share of disappointments. Our summer plans evaporated as camps closed and flights were cancelled. I shed a lot of tears not knowing when I would see my parents again. To cope, I stopped pinning my hopes on the calendar - “We’ll see you in August!” or “Schools will reopen by fall.” - and instead was grateful that we were safe at home, fully employed, and in a pod with two amazing families with whom we shared homeschooling duties.
And, then, there was hope. For me, that hope arrived a few days before my birthday when I learned that I was eligible to receive the COVID-19 vaccine. I bawled hard that day: All of the fear, disappointment, and attempts at holding it together for my kids released into an avalanche of happy tears. Going to the mass vaccination site with my colleague, Ari O’Donovan, to receive our first doses felt like a celebration and first step into a post-pandemic world. When I returned for my second dose, I was absolutely giddy. Both times, the only side effect I experienced was soreness at the injection sites.
Recently, my family and I took a few more steps into that post-pandemic world by attending our first group gathering. We went to Family Camp, a weekend where we played, laughed, ate, sang, and swam with dozens of families in a secluded sleepover camp. There even was a reptile show where I got up close and personal with a sweet alligator named Lucy. All adults were vaccinated, so we could socialize, hug, and get close again without covering our faces. Children who were too young to be vaccinated wore masks, but they knew why and did not complain. They were so happy to run free, play in the water and the woods, roast marshmallows, and just be kids again.
The pandemic isn’t over yet, but hope is on the horizon. I look forward to the day when my children can be vaccinated and protected against this deadly virus. I am hopeful that more and more Oregonians will choose to vaccinate themselves and their families against COVID-19. All of us have been through a lot this past year, but we are Oregon Strong, and, together, we can and will end the pandemic.