More than halfway into her pregnancy, Maggie Price wasn't swept up in a destructive disinformation campaign about the COVID-19 vaccine. She hadn't been targeted by false conspiracy theories suggesting that a "spike protein" from the virus could bind to the ovary, causing infertility or birth defects.
Nor had she heard a prominent anti-vaxxer link the shots to "the globalists and the de-population eugenicists, the stated Satanists who are out to destroy the world." (This is also extremely not true.)
Price, of Delano, was just living her life as a busy mom and business owner during a pandemic, struggling to stay on top of the latest research and trying to protect the growing baby inside of her. She and her family — including a toddler and twin second-graders — diligently washed hands, masked up, and did all the things we've been told to help shield us from the coronavirus.
But Price was still reluctant to get the vaccine.
"Anything you're putting into your body, you're thinking more about than you would have if you weren't pregnant," she said. "My initial hesitancy was, if I didn't have to do it, and we could stay safe — that's the ideal scenario. As a pregnant woman, you try to make the best choice for yourself and your unborn child."
Then as the delta variant started to spread like kudzu this summer, her thoughts wandered to the start of the school year. She knew her kids would probably be in classrooms where their classmates weren't masked. Her family was already sickened with COVID-19 last year — the result of an exposure at school — and she didn't want to risk another bout with the disease.
Price also started reading reports of pregnant patients infected with the virus who were forced to deliver early, were placed on ventilators, or who had even lost their lives. COVID-19 vaccination rates among expecting moms are staggeringly low: Only about a third of pregnant people have gotten the shots.
So Price did something that's becoming sadly less common these days: She talked to her doctor.