In my appointment last night, I was going to ask my doctor if he could recommend a psychiatrist for me but... at the last minute I didnât. I donât know really know why.
This morning, I was sending messages back and forth with my husband while he was at work. He sent this message âI was looking for psychiatrists yesterday. Im just having a hard time finding them with [our insurance] convention.â (I donât want to be seen at a public hospital/health center)
I replied back âAwesome... So I guess even if I had gotten a recommendation it wouldn't have meant anything.â
He didnât answer. An hour later I sent him another, unrelated message, and he replied to that one.
I texted the doctor anyway then, as I mentioned in my previous post. "Iâm sorry to be bothering you again, but do you happen to know any psychiatrists who speak English? All of Husbandâs colleagues work in the public sector and I donât want to have to way too long to be seen. Thank you regardless.â It was not an easy text to send, but I immediately felt so much better. Like I was taking active steps to get better, for myself and for Baby. I did not mention our insurance, because, come on, heâs obviously not going to have a list of all the providers that anyone he knows might cover. But maybe he could recommend someone who happens to work with our insurance? Itâs worth a shot. And besides, he obviously accepts our provider so itâs not an insane idea that he would know someone else who does...?
A few hours later I got a response. âDr. Jane Doe. She told me to give you her phone number. You can call her directly for an appointment. 555-5555âł
And I just feel so overwhelmingly grateful. Even if this doesnât pan out, even if I canât afford to be treated by her, I really feel so grateful that he took the time to reply, and not only that, but to speak to someone on my behalf first.Â
But. I told me husband after I got that reply.
Me: i texted the doctor this morning anyway
Me: i figured there was literally no harm in it so why not
Husband: Why
Me: I didnt have a great morning, okay?
Me: and i felt better about doing SOMETHING that maybe would lead to progress
Me: even if it turned out to not do anything, it was something i could try
He saw the messages, but didnât reply. Ten minutes later I sent him an unrelated message about Baby, which again he saw but did not reply to, so I know heâs seeing a patient and isnât able to. But somehow I think heâs going to ignore what I said about texting the doctor, and focus instead on what I said about Baby. I really hope Iâm wrong.
So I am... not in a great place right now. After giving birth to Baby, my hormones were understandably crazy, and I was an emotional mess. I cried all the time, every day, over literally nothing. But every day things got just a little easier, and I started crying less and less. By the time I was about six weeks postpartum, I felt okay again. For a bit. And then I felt myself starting to decline again, little by little. And I remember so well this feeling, because I was on citalopram to treat depression for years before trying to conceive, and this is what it felt like in the beginning, before I finally went to the doctor to get treated.
Yesterday, though... yesterday was something else. Itâs been getting a little worse every day, but yesterday it did not get a little worse. Yesterday it got a LOT worse. Yesterday I had my postpartum appointment and being in the waiting room basically killed me. Everywhere I looked there were these beautiful pregnant women with their bumps and I just felt so empty. I had been dreading that appointment for weeks, because it marked the absolute end to my pregnancy and I wasnât ready to give that up yet. And still, I had no idea how hard it would be going there.
Pregnancy was the absolute best experience in my life. I have never been happier than I was for those months. I wanted to be a mom so badly for so long that when I finally got pregnant... I didnât even need the citalopram. I was ecstatic all the time.
Then when I was about seven months pregnant, my husband asked me how I would feel about adoption for our second child. And I understand now why you shouldnât make huge life decisions when youâre pregnant, because I happily agreed to his suggestion. Sure, adoption sounds wonderful. Giving a home to a child who doesnât have one, that sounds lovely! I was so touched by his suggestion, and I felt so blessed to have married such a caring, giving man.
But the thing is... We will never be able to afford more than two children. Iâve always wanted three, and heâs known that, but weâve talked about this many times, and the money will probably never be there. Iâve known this for years. Iâve made my peace with it.
What I did not make my peace with was that this pregnancy was going to be my last. After having her, that was it. And I did not have nearly enough time to process that before giving birth.
My husband doesnât understand why Iâm so upset. âMy opinion might changeâ he says, but I canât just pretend he doesnât feel the way he does, and hold out hope for years that he MIGHT change his mind. Thatâs not healthy for anyone. And he thinks that by mourning the children I donât get to have, somehow it means I love our daughter less? He thinks that by focusing on what Iâve lost, rather than what I still have, it means that I donât appreciate her or value her enough. That Iâm putting these hypothetical children above the flesh and blood child I gave birth to less than two months ago.
Thatâs not true, of course, and Iâve tried to explain it to him. He says he understands, but I know he doesnât. How could he? I barely understand what Iâm feeling. Iâm heartbroken that this was my last pregnancy, and only found that out when it was almost over. I feel guilty because I should be enjoying my daughter, who I truly love so much, but instead I just want to cry all the time. I feel so resentful that he would spring that on me in the middle of my third trimester, when weâve been married for years and we spent an entire year trying to conceive her in the first place. I feel trapped, because I agreed to his suggestion so easily, and what kind of woman - what kind of MOTHER - would I be if I said no, I changed my mind, let that child stay an orphan, I want to make my own baby?
This isnât the only problem, of course. I have depression even without this extra emotional strain. But it is extra emotional strain.
I texted my doctor a few hours ago asking if he knew any psychiatrists that speak English, because of course thatâs another problem. Usually when I see a health care professional, I can make do with the Portuguese I speak if they donât speak English. If I canât, I always have my husband (a fellow health care professional) there to help me explain, and to give relevant medical details that I wouldnât have known were relevant in the first place. But psychiatry is the one specialty where Iâd prefer to be alone. I need to be able to talk about these feelings of resentment and hopelessness and crushing loneliness without him feeling guilty. Because he does, always, every time I ever make even a minor complaint about anything, he has to rush to fix it. Thatâs really sweet of him, but itâs also a huge annoyance. I remark that he forgot to get extra fries when he brought McDonaldâs home for lunch? He begs forgiveness and offers to go back, right that minute, to pick up the fries. Itâs exhausting. And this is for something as minor as potatoes. Iâve had to straight up say, stop. Iâm sorry if it hurts you to see me sad, but please donât tell me about it, and please stop offering to quit your job to âbe there for me.â I need to be able to feel sad without feeling guilt that Iâm also making my husband sad. I am not at a place right now where I can handle that emotional burden. So I need to speak to someone alone, and I need them to have a decent grasp of the English language because I can barely articulate these thoughts in my native tongue, Iâll be useless if I try to do it in Portuguese.
The other option, of course, is going right back on the same dosage of citalopram without seeing anyone. My husband is a doctor, itâs very easy to get a prescription. It worked very well before for my depression and anxiety. But the side effects... They are something that, if I can, Iâd like to avoid this go-around. For the first time in literally years, I have a sex drive again. Iâm actually seeking out and enjoying sex. Both of those things happening at the same time? Probably has never happened. It took years before having sex became something I actually enjoyed (it was so, so painful for months, and then it was extremely uncomfortable for years), but then I started the citalopram and lost all desire to have sex. Sure, it didnât hurt anymore, but I didnât want it either - and when I did, I could rarely achieve orgasm anyway. Great! The anorgasmia disappeared shortly after getting off of the medication, but the low sex drive persisted until shortly before I conceived. And then once I did, we refrained from sex. For the first trimester it was because I bled so easily, and then later it was because my husband didnât feel comfortable having sex when I was carrying his child, even though he knew that was ridiculous. And thatâs fine, heâs allowed to have things that make him uncomfortable, and I respected that. The baby is here now, and we are finally having sex again. My sex drive actually increased, by a huge amount, on the second day postpartum. I was literally sitting in the hospital bed, tired and crying and sore and bleeding... and aroused. That was a confusing experience.
So if at all possible, Iâd like to retain my sex life. This is why I need an actual specialist to see me to talk about my different treatment options, rather than going back to the 70 year old, Portuguese-speaking-only family doctor that prescribed the citalopram in the first place.
Iâm still okay for now. It hasnât yet reached the point where itâs all-encompassing. Iâm in the middle of the ocean and I canât see the shore, but at least I can still remember that there is a shore, and that Iâm not as far from it as it feels. Hopefully Iâll get treatment soon enough that it doesnât reach that point.
Warning: This is a long post. Like really long. Like over 1500 words long.
At exactly 42 weeks (September 21st), I went to the doctor again, prepared to be induced that day. We took our car instead of an Uber, and my suitcase was in the trunk.
Before the doctor saw me, the nurse hooked me up to the CTG, which showed me that I was contracting regularly, every fifteen minutes. They were weak contractions, true, but they were happening regularly! At around ten in the morning, the doctor called me into the office and examined me, again. I was fully expecting there to have been no change since the last time I was there - after all, I had been examined every few days for two weeks, and my body was stubbornly telling me that it wasnât time yet. But time was up for me, whether my body agreed or not.
I was surprised to find that there was finally some change! Among other things, I had finally started to dilate! Only one centimeter, true, but it still meant that my body was gearing up for labor. And it meant that if we were to try inducing, my body might actually respond and I wouldnât need to have a C-Section. We sat down with him, preparing to ask to be induced that day as we had mentioned a few days before... And he told us that inductions are sort of a first come, first serve situation, and as it was already ten AM, they were basically already full. Obviously if I went into labor spontaneously or if there were some emergency they would find a place for me, but as it stood, that day was just not a great day.
Okay, we said. Weâll come back tomorrow morning, right at eight. The amniotic fluid was starting to get low (for the first time), but her heart was strong and normal, she was moving, and I felt fine. We could wait one more day.
We left the hospital, took the car home, and then walked to my favorite sushi restaurant to have a âlast hurrahâ meal. I kept contracting regularly every fifteen minutes, and while in the restaurant munching on salmon realized that they were getting stronger. Noticeably stronger. But, you know, sushi. So I finished my meal, and no one besides my husband was aware that I was in early labor at the sushi buffet.
We went home, and I realized that I was probably not going to make it to 8 am. She was actually going to come on her own! With that in mind, I took a nap for a few hours, while the pain was still something I could sleep through.
That night I decided to make spaghetti for dinner... But then had to ask Husband to make it after all, because standing up made the contractions more painful. Not more frequent, but more painful. We had a nice meal while watching the season 2 premier of The Good Place. At around eleven, we headed to bed to try and sleep a few hours. By this time, I had my Contraction Timer application open on my phone, and was timing it. I could not fall asleep. I let Husband sleep for as long as I could, and at three in the morning, with contractions I could barely breathe through coming every four minutes, I had to wake him up. It was time to go.
I hopped into the shower, gathered up my things, and we left again. Of course, there was no traffic, but we still hit every single red light from our house to the hospital. We got there at around four in the morning, and I was a little disappointed. I really loved my obstetrician, and I was upset that I probably wasnât going to be delivering the baby with him. He had given appointments all day the day before, as I personally could attest to, so it was unlikely he was going to be there overnight.
Well, there was another surprise! My doctor was indeed there, and after a final examination concluded that I was definitely in labor, and was four centimeters dilated. Hooray! I discarded my clothing, put on the stupid flimsy hospital gown, and then immediately went to get an epidural placed. Husband was initially not allowed in the room for that, and I cried (from fear put also pain) when the IV was put into my hand. I hated that thing. It hurt the entire time it was in, and I could barely move the hand because it would pull and hurt more. Fuck that thing. It also made my arm go randomly numb, and that didnât go away until a week later. My OB came in to check on me before the anesthesiologist arrived, and I tearfully asked if there was a reason that Husband was not allowed to be with me. Possibly because I was obviously already traumatized, but probably because Husband is a doctor and would know how to shut up and stay out of the way, he was allowed to be with me.
The anesthesiologist took two attempts and what felt like twenty minutes to get the epidural placed, but once it was in... Man, that was amazing. It was incredible - I lost all feeling in my uterus, but I could still perfectly feel my legs, which I wasnât anticipating (they had reduced sensation, but I was still able to move them, even able to walk to the bathroom unassisted an hour later). The  anesthesiologist told me that the medication would probably start to wear off after two-three hours, and to call a nurse when I needed more medication. Sure thing!
Sure enough, after about two and a half hours I started realizing that I was in pain again. I called the nurse, she spoke with the doctor, and I got more medication. Except only an hour later, I was in pain again. I got more medication. I waited for it to work. It didnât. Throughout all of this, my OB checked on my dilation, broke my water (which was such a gross feeling... sort of like peeing a waterfall of jelly?) and mentioned something else: The baby had turned around, and was no longer in an ideal position for birth. He suggested that I roll over onto my side and push with one leg pulled up against my belly, as that might make it easier for her to come out.
At that point, I had been in labor at the hospital for nearly twelve hours, something clearly was not working as far as pain management, and I was starting to hyperventilate. The constant forceful pushing gave me a hemorrhoid the size of a new potato (says Husband, anyway, who was so alarmed that he had to fight to remain calm lest I have a full blown panic attack). A different  anesthesiologist showed up (as I had been there for so long that the first had gone home) and verified that, yes, the epidural had somehow fallen out of place. He went to put it back, and like his colleague before him, took two attempts to put it in. So in total, four needle pricks in the same location of my spine.
At around five in the evening, my OB arrived for the last time to deliver the baby. Why he was even still at the hospital I donât know, as he had been there for well over thirty hours at that point, but Iâm extremely grateful. He told me that, despite our best efforts, the baby was not going to get through the birth canal by my pushing alone. She would need to be assisted with vacuum suction. Fine, just get her out. Well, and unfortunately weâre also going to have to do an episiotomy. Again, fine. I donât love that, but itâs clearly unavoidable, and at this point I just want her to be born as quickly as possible.
And at five seventeen (17:17) on September 22nd, she was born. As soon as she came out, she cried, and as soon as I heard her, so did I. The nurse wiped her face and immediately gave her to me. Husband and I stared at her in awe. How did we make something so absolutely beautiful? So perfect? Her eyes were open and she was looking at me, and she looked so content to finally be born.
After about twenty minutes (by Husbandâs estimate, as I had lost the ability to track time hours before), he cut the cord, and she was taken to be cleaned, weighed, measured, and given the vitamin K shot. I was rolled into a recovery room, where the nurses worried over the fact that my heartbeat was still so fast. After about an hour (during which I could not even rest because the stupid heart rate monitor kept beeping to announce my tachycardia), it finally calmed down, I was given my beautiful baby again, and we made the journey to our room, where Husband, his mother, and his sister were waiting.
It was not an easy labor, or a quick one, but in the end I got my perfect little baby girl, and she is perfectly healthy, happy, and thriving. I could not have asked for a better experience.
I can finally say this with absolute certainty. If she is not born yet by Thursday (42 weeks), we will be inducing. If my cervix is still the same as it was yesterday and Friday, then the induction will likely fail, and I will need to have a Cesarian.
I need to type this out because I need to come to terms with it. Iâm not happy at all. In fact, Iâm really upset.
Iâm not anti C-sections... if theyâre medically necessary. If something is wrong with Baby or with me, and she needs to come out immediately, then Iâm all for it. Her health is the most important thing here, and I will absolutely not sacrifice that for the *~majesty of natural childbirth~* . But I also never wanted to be one who would voluntarily schedule elective surgery to remove my child from my womb just because sheâs been there enough time in my mind.
And thatâs the thing: Sheâs healthy. She has fantastic movement, and great levels of amniotic fluid, and her stress tests have been going really well. Iâm healthy. I have no real complaints (blood pressure is fine, swelling is normal, no GD, no more reflux, no sciatica). As far as we can tell, weâre both doing great, even at 12 days past the due date.
So if sheâs healthy and Iâm healthy and my body isnât ready for labor in the first place, why am I going to induce?
42 weeks is a scary number. Like, a really scary number. Statistically, babies born after 42 weeks are more at risk for a whole host of health problems, including stillbirth. Now, this does not mean that every baby born after 42 weeks will have problems, especially if theyâre still registering as perfectly healthy at 41+6. But it does mean that I can drastically reduce those risks by not allowing her to stay that long.
So basically it comes down to this: Which is better? Letting a healthy baby stay in the womb of a healthy mother until she is ready to deliver, hoping that the child stays healthy throughout that period, however long it may be? Or forcibly removing the baby from the womb before the mother is physically ready to deliver in order to assure that there will be no complications associated to a post-term pregnancy? When we spoke to my doctor about this yesterday, he told us that there is no wrong decision (which is helpful, but at the same time I think I would feel better if I didnât have to make a decision at all - if he would make a decision for me I think I would be way less anxious).
The most important thing here is Babyâs health. Full stop. So with that in mind... I think inducing on Thursday is the ârightâ decision, even if itâs one that I donât feel good about at all.
I have created so many damn blogs throughout the years, and at some point I always forget about them and let them die. Sorry if me disappearing out of nowhere gave people the wrong idea!
My due date (September 7th) has come and gone and... I am still pregnant. We are checking on her twice a week now, and we both seem to be super healthy. My body is not induction-friendly right now, but since sheâs still super active with a strong, reactive heartbeat and great levels of amniotic fluid... Well, weâre just going with the flow and seeing how it goes. One day at a time!
I hope to be around more often, but this baby should be here literally any moment now, so who knows. And now off to the bathroom for like the seventeenth time today...
So I havenât updated this blog in a while, and Iâm not entirely sure why... I think in the very beginning of this pregnancy I was a little paranoid that I would miscarry, and so I didnât want to get too excited and have a bunch of old blog posts reminding me of what I had lost. And then, the idea of updating became a little daunting. It had been so long! So much to catch up on! And the longer I put it off, the more stressful the idea became until I was just like ânah bro.â
But I am feeling suspiciously stress-free right now, so Iâd like to make a little update!
Iâm currently 24 weeks 4 days pregnant. Five and a half months! Baby girl is perfectly healthy as of her anatomy scan at 21 weeks.
Iâve gained about 5kg so far, which isnât bad, but they donât want me gaining more than 8kg for the entire pregnancy, so I need to get my butt back to the gym! Iâve gone to a few hydrogymnastics classes and theyâre really great. I get cardio and a bit of strength training, but without any stress on my joints. I can also easily modify any of the exercises if they put too much stain on my belly, and thatâs really nice.
Weâve started buying some small baby things. I bought a few outfits from her at Primark, which is the most amazing place ever. I hate the idea of spending a fortune on a mountain of baby clothing that sheâs only going to wear a handful of times before growing out of it, but I also canât rely only on hand-me-downs. Primark is an amazing compromise. She has 15 onesies (two of which have a skirt, so they look like dresses) and weâve spent less than âŹ40. I also have started buying diapers, which can be tricky because who knows how different brands will fit her or whether her skin will react to any. Right now I have three small packages (25-30), each from a different brand. The return policy here is like 15 days, so I canât even buy a shitton of packages as they go on sale and keep the receipt to return later. I have an envelope that Iâm now stashing money in that will ONLY be used for diapers once she gets here.
We also found a carseat! We havenât bought it yet (still waiting on the tax return), but we found it and fell in love. Itâs the Doona and it is absolutely perfect for us. So perfect that I think Iâm going to make a blog post specifically about it later lol.
Iâm not having any unusual cravings yet. All I ever want to eat is sushi, but thatâs not something that changed with pregnancy. I try to limit myself to no more than twice a week, because fuck sushi is expensive. There have also been days when Iâve thought âI need Oreos or I will die.â One of those occasions happened at night when the store was closed, so obviously I did not get the Oreos and obviously I did not die. I was sulky for like an hour and got over it. Is that how cravings work?
Symptoms: My skin is a hot fucking mess (really bad acne everywhere, including big pimples in places Iâve never had acne before, like my hip/top of my thigh/lower belly), occasional constipation, super sensitive nipples, and fatigue.
This is only the tip of the iceberg, but I donât want to be here all day writing, so Iâll just try to make sure I update more frequently.
So yesterday I was at Primark and saw this. It is a Batman onesie with a velcro detachable cape. And it was âŹ6. I am so mad at myself for not buying it. Iâm going back next week and getting it because it is everything.
Me, 4 months pregnant, talking to myself: gosh, my back hurts and Iâm really tired.
Three ladies turn their heads completely around to look in my direction: TIRED???!!! JUST WAIT UNTIL THAT KID GETS HERE YOU DONâT KNOW THE MEANING OF TIRED YOUâRE TOO YOUNG TO BE TIRED
Several more women crawl out of the ceiling toward me: YOUâRE NOT EVEN THAT FAR ALONG YET JUST WAIT YOUâRE BARELY PREGNANT NOW WAIT UNTIL YOUâRE IN THE LAST TRIMESTER AND YOU CANâT ROLL OVER WITHOUT PAIN WAIT UNTIL THAT BABY IS 8 POUNDS YOU DONâT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR BACK HURTING
A random guy runs up to me, out of breath and horrified at my words: IâM TIRED AND SORE AT LEAST YOU GET TO USE PREGNANCY AS AN EXCUSE WHAT ABOUT ME PREGNANCY ISNâT EVEN THAT BAD HAVE YOU EVER PASSED A KIDNEY STONE
Bbybepartofmyworld has been ttc for like ever but she's not doing much for her mental health admits she barely has motivation to take care of herself and her dogs but think she can handle a kid? Fuck outta here with that shit. Maybe she can't get pregnant because her uterus knows she'd be a shite mother.
Thatâs harsh, but youâre right on the fact that she shouldnât be having a kid if her mental health is in such shambles. Pregnancy worsens mental health, hormonal drop after birth worsens mental health, lack of sleep and personal time deff worsens mental health. Work on yourself a bit more before having kids. Itâll make the expeirenfe much more pleasant for everyone involved.
Well woah! I admit to my failing when it comes to my mental health. I admit to not being in the best place but Iâm seeing a doctor and trying to find the best medication has been a process thatâs currently at the two year mark? I finally got told to see a psychiatrist so I have to make the appointment and go?
Also I knew someone would get butt hurt about my dogs vet appointment and is why I put in there thereâs not really been a NEED to take her to the vet and sheâs updated on her shots until November. Then she scratched her lip more this weekend so we decided to take her in and see if it was anything to worry about. Itâs not she just canât have hard toys for ~a week.
I am working on myself and my mental health? Every single day? Like Emily said - TTC for so long makes my depression worse as there is no reason for it to be taking this long!! They have no answers and we are doing all the testing. Again. To try to find some! I often use tumblr to talk about my feelings as a place to vent - I can only say the same things to my husband so many times before I donât feel like itâs productive so I come here. I didnât realize my mental health made me unfit to be a mother. But also why go to bitchmoms and not to me? Iâve followed them for a while - since many people I started ttc with are now parents for the first second and some even the third time! But come on. Just come say it to me. I wonât bite. I admit Iâm not perfect. đ¤ˇđźââď¸đ¤ˇđźââď¸đ¤ˇđźââď¸đ¤ˇđźââď¸
This anon can fuck right off. Who are they to judge anyoneâs capability to be a good mother. TTC is difficult, long term TTC is downright brutal. This is why we get annoyed and those who say âI know what youâre going through, we tried for 4 months and it was so hardâ. Because as hard as that may seem, itâs nothing compared to the mental beat down you give yourself month after month of negative tests. The agony of waiting 70+ days for your period to start just to have the chance of being hopeful again. The anxiety that comes with waiting for the latest blood test results. The despair of failing another medicated cycle. Itâs impossible to get through with complete optimism and a sunny disposition.
My advice to those starting to TTC with infertility: have a good support system. If you have a partner, make sure they are just as committed as you are. You wonât survive if you donât have people to hold you up in the days you canât go on, and there is nothing wrong with that. Certainly donât listen to fuckwads on the internet who know nothing about what you are going through.
FUCK YOU ANON. You obviously have mental issues of your own if you canât go straight to the source to say that. @bbybepartofmyworld will be a wonderful mom. She deserves happiness and a beautiful little one.
Wtf has been up with people lately? Youâre going to be an amazing mom @bbybepartofmyworld ttc is hard work, and youâre trying your best every day, just like most of us are. Your blog. Your vents. Your safe place to relieve stress. â¤ď¸
Yeah I donât know it must be one of those days I guess. Iâd be lying if it didnât hurt to read someone feels that way about you though. Because itâs does. I had a cry, since I cry over everything, and now Iâm just hoping that whoever obviously feels this way just unfollows me because I canât imagine following someone whose decisions you disagree with to this extent. đ Thank you @anchorthroughthestorms đ
This anon makes me sick. Youâre doing great Annie. For someone to expect another person to be 100% constantly has obviously never dealt with the struggles of anything. TTC is hard and can wear the strongest women down, donât let anyone make you feel like you shouldnât be a momâŚyou will make a great mom! â¤
I think Jessa debunked the Old Wives Tale about carrying high/low. She carried her second son much lower than she carried Spurgeon and everyone speculated she was having a girl. Even my mom, an L&D nurse, swore she was having a girl because of how low her belly was.
(Okay but a labor and delivery nurse should know better and should not need to use Jessa Duggar as a benchmark for medical accuracy...)
Huggies recently started making tiny diapers for preemie babies. The diapers are intended for infants who weigh less than 2 pounds, are specially-designed to protect the delicate, still-developing skin of premature newborns, and were created due to the lack of options available to Neonatal Intensive Care Units. Source
Back in the 1960s, the U.S. started vaccinating kids for measles. As expected, children stopped getting measles.
But something else happened.
Childhood deaths from all infectious diseases plummeted. Even deaths from diseases like pneumonia and diarrhea were cut by half.
âSo itâs really been a mystery â why do children stop dying at such high rates from all these different infections following introduction of the measles vaccine,â says Michael Mina, a postdoc in biology at Princeton University and a medical student at Emory University.
Scientists Crack A 50-Year-Old Mystery About The Measles Vaccine
Photo credit: Photofusion/UIG via Getty Images
Using computer models, they found that the number of measles cases in these countries predicted the number of deaths from other infections two to three years later.
âWe found measles predisposes children to all other infectious diseases for up to a few years,â Mina says.
And the virus seems to do it in a sneaky way.
Like many viruses, measles is known to suppress the immune system for a few weeks after an infection. But previous studies in monkeys have suggested that measles takes this suppression to a whole new level: It erases immune protection to other diseases, Mina says.
VACCINATE. YOUR. DAMN. KIDS.Â
Are you in there, little fetus? @areyouintherelittlefetus - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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