We take it for granted

Like most mothers in the US, I’ll never forget the first well visit to the pediatrician. The infamous first vaccine visit. I have twins, and a veritable swarm of nurses injected their chubby little legs at the same time. Surely their howling was audible from the waiting room.

Of course, I cried, too. The nurse looked at me and said, sympathetically, “It’s always worse for Mom!”

But that was only part of it. I was also crying because I was so grateful to live in a place where obtaining these life-saving shots for my babies was so easy. So expected. So routine.

We take it for granted. While we worry about monogramming Sunday dresses and choosing the right preschool, in other parts of the world, mothers 15 miles to obtain the same life-saving vaccines we take for granted.

 Vaccines are that important

What we’ve come to consider a nuisance (the mild fevers and fussiness after a vaccine appointment) pales in comparison to the alternative: measles, pneumonia, bacterial meningitis, polio, and rotavirus.

Every child deserves a shot at learning to play, joining the team, working to become MVP.

Every child deserves a shot, and a lollipop.

But worldwide, 1 in 5 children does not have access to the vaccines they need to live long enough to even learn to throw a ball.

Approximately 1.7 million children around the world die each year  from a disease that could have been prevented by a vaccine.

To put it in starker terms: every 20 seconds, a child dies. A child dies because they didn’t get a shot. For measles. For polio. For pneumococcal disease. For rotavirus.

All of this is shocking, but the most surprising thing for those of us in the United States may be the prevalence of polio, a disease we largely assume to be antiquated, if not eradicated. Yet it is commonplace in Afghanistan, India, Nigeria, and Pakistan, and making increasing reappearances in Angola, Chad, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

What affects a child’s chances of receiving these life-saving vaccines? Research has shown that it may not be what, so much as who.

 Who? Mothers.

In countries where gender equity is at a high level, where women are more educated and have access to the same types of opportunities as men, vaccines are more widely distributed.

And the more educated the mother, the more likely it is that her child will be vaccinated and have better health outcomes in general.

What would I have done if I’d had my two infants in a developing country? Knowing what I know, having the sense of enfranchisement that comes with growing up as a woman in modern day America, having been lucky enough to go to college and law school, I would have sought out vaccines.

But if I didn’t have those advantages? What advantages would I have passed along to my babies in the form of vaccines?

I honestly don’t know.

 

To find out more about how you can help a child have a shot at life, visit www.shotatlife.org, a campaign of the United Nations Foundation.

A donation of $20 can vaccinate a child against the four biggest vaccine preventable diseases–and save a life.