Scheduling My Kids’ COVID Vaccinations Triggered an Emotional Collapse

As soon as the FDA’s ACIP voted to authorize COVID vaccinations for children ages 5-12, I sprang into action. “Are you scheduling COVID shots for kids under 12?” I inquired at every pharmacy I could think of—Walgreens, CVS, and a few local spots. I even called the state health department twice. When they told me they had no idea when they would start offering shots, I fired back, “I heard you have 150,000 doses sitting there! What are your plans for distribution?” The representative stumbled over his words, and later, a man I finally reached took my number for updates.

I reached out to hospitals three hours away. When my husband returned home, he urged me to take a breath. “We’re not driving three hours tonight, and the FDA director still needs to approve the vote,” he reminded me. “You won’t know anything until tomorrow.”

Then, at 6:30 AM, my sister-in-law texted from another state saying CVS was opening online appointments for kids under 12 starting that Sunday. Armed with insurance information, I booked COVID shots for all my kids—one, two, three, in order of age—for Monday.

And then, I broke down.

It Wasn’t Just About the Vaccinations

Sure, it was partly about securing my kids’ COVID shots. But it was much deeper than that.

My therapist described it well: sometimes, you don’t realize the extent of the struggle until it’s nearly over. You’ve been so entrenched in survival mode that you don’t have the bandwidth to assess what you’ve been through. When I booked those appointments, I took a significant step toward reclaiming a sense of normalcy.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could see a glimmer of hope—a light at the end of the tunnel. I could finally say, “On this day, my children will be fully vaccinated against COVID-19, greatly reducing their risk of severe illness.” For the first time in a long time, I wouldn’t have to navigate each day with an undercurrent of anxiety about “How do we keep the kids safe today?”

Living in Survival Mode for 18 Months

Since March 2020, every decision I made revolved around one question: Could this put my kids at risk? They had spent nearly a year completely isolated from their peers, as their friends’ families didn’t take COVID seriously and invited us to unmasked gatherings. Consequently, we avoided almost all indoor public spaces and, in turn, became isolated ourselves. I was desperate to get my kids vaccinated as quickly as possible.

Residing in a highly conservative state where few wore masks made outings challenging. We attempted to go out, but even at places like the Georgia Aquarium, where mask mandates were strict, I was overwhelmed by anxiety. I could barely enjoy watching my kids play due to paralyzing fears that someone might be infected. Every day was a new battle; losing it meant everything I did before would feel pointless. The burden grew heavier until I finally booked those vaccination appointments, allowing me to confront the reality: I had spent a year and a half living in constant fear for my children’s safety.

Suppressing Anxiety for Too Long

At the pandemic’s onset, I was able to grieve—upset that my kids were missing out on social interactions and saddened by the staggering death toll. But as time passed, I shifted into survival mode and could no longer confront those feelings. I remember a conversation with my husband in mid-2020 about rising infection rates that felt surreal. As we watched our kids play in their pool, we spoke about death as if it were just another topic.

When I finally secured the vaccination appointments, all those haunting “what-if” scenarios from the early pandemic came flooding back: What if my youngest contracts COVID and is hospitalized without me? What if my husband, who has asthma, gets severely ill, and I can’t be there for him? The anxiety I had suppressed for so long burst forth, and for the first time in ages, I could truly recognize how horrifying this experience had been.

I am finally breaking down now.

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In summary, the journey of scheduling my kids’ COVID vaccinations became a catalyst for confronting emotions I had buried for 18 months. It illuminated the immense weight of anxiety I had been carrying, transforming a simple appointment into a poignant moment of clarity and relief.

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