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A Mother's Musings

Ruminated upon frequently; commited to paper July 13, 2002

How can I put you through cancer treatment?

Simon, my child, whose gestating body I protected even from Tylenol; whose newborn body was snatched away as soon as you emerged from my body so your lungs could be suctioned for meconium; who came to me in a peaceful cuddle soon after; whose tiny, uninitiated eyes I resisted as long as possible from clouding with the obligatory antibiotic ointment; whose eager rooting taught me how to breastfeed; whose body I reluctantly allowed to be poked with an injection of vitamin K (also required); whose tiny foot I watched get poked and squeezed incessantly on your second day while a nurse diligently saturated 5 quarter-sized circles with your blood on a card for the State to test for PKU; whose body I would not allow to receive the vaccine for hepatitis B so fresh upon your arrival.

Simon, in whose 2-week-old face I first saw an expression of pain and deep distress as I stood near for your first vaccinations, agreed to upon medical urging despite my awareness of concerns about negative effects from vaccines.

Simon, whose body and teeth I have cared for; whose food I have carefully chosen and prepared; whose body and emotional well-being I fed with the comfort of breastmilk and closeness for over three years.

Simon, whose allergic reactions to antibiotics led me to seek alternative, antibiotic-free treatment for ear infections; whose many boo-boos I have kissed and bandaged. Simon, whose emotional expression I have listened to and encouraged to be unstifled; whose burgeoning intellect I have marveled at and stimulated.

Simon, whose limp and stiff neck caused me only minor concern; whose possible diagnosis with a troubling condition called Legg Calve Perthes Disease gave me pause (Could there be something really *wrong* with my Simon?); whose progression from test to doctor to more tests and more doctors last December caused me great concern over the number of anesthesias and invasions you endured.

Simon, my child, whom I have nurtured, protected, and so thoroughly want to see happy, how can I put you through cancer treatment? Let them pump you full of lethal poisons? Attack the very immune system that is supposed to be your protection? Slice you open to remove your own cells? And send you into the hell of a stem cell transplant, radiation, and more?

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