Mothers of Achilles

Do all mothers feel compelled to immortalize their children? Is this a quality of good parenthood?

In 2020, I first read the book On Immunity by Eula Biss—it came highly recommended to me by one of my college professors. Looking back, I find it amusing that she and I both became so attached to a book about parenthood and vaccination when, at the time, neither of us was married or had children. The book is creative non-fiction; an account of Biss’s first birth and subsequent navigation through the world of vaccination. My initial love for the book was due to its narrative voice. Creative non-fiction allows a writer to explore topics and experiences in their own life lyrically and in conversation with the great stories of history. Biss begins her book by comparing the idea of vaccination and immunity with the myth of Achilles, “whose mother tried to make him immortal. She burned away his mortality with fire, in one telling of the story, and Achilles was left impervious to injury everywhere except his heel, where a poisoned arrow would eventually wound and kill him. In another telling, the infant Achilles was immersed in the River Styx, the river that divides the world from the underworld. His mother held her baby by his heel to dip him in the water, leaving, again, one fatal vulnerability”. 

This comparison has stuck with me ever since, and I find myself hearkening back to it often now that I am a mother. Being a mother is all consuming, in thought and in purpose. Although I’ve had the opportunity to do things without Klaus since his birth, and although I have many passions, interests, and hobbies that do not involve him, he still consumes my thoughts at all times, and I find myself incapable of making any decision without thinking of him and how it could effect him. 

This is, of course, not innately a bad thing—motherhood is one of my highest vocations and ought to be at the forefront of my thoughts and decisions. However, Biss’s book serves as a great reminder that motherhood can become all-encompassing in a way that is less than healthy. The birth of Biss’s son is recounted as a highly traumatic experience—one which resulted in an extreme loss of blood for her. In On Immunity, it is clear that her birth experience instantly changed her mindset and her focus, and she became obsessed with having control over her health and especially her son’s health. That one event completely altered her view of the world and of her experiences, and this is one of the marks of a traumatic experience.

On our honeymoon, my husband John fell and broke his back, resulting in a 300 mile helicopter ride to the nearest hospital and a 7 hour corrective surgery. This was a similarly traumatic experience for me; akin to Biss, it felt as though I had lost all control of our lives and our futures in one irreversible instant. Despite the fact that he healed completely and has no lasting physical effects of his injury, my view of life and of our health has permanently shifted. I think this is one of the harder aspects of trauma: once the trauma has resolved in the eye of the outside world, the world moves on and expects those involved to move on as well. This, in my own experience, means that I regularly have people laugh and crack jokes about John’s accident to me, loving the thrill of the story and the amusement they find in such an extreme, fiction-like experience. I do not fault these people for their ignorance—it is a great gift to be unable to understand how trauma permanently effects your life. The handful of friends I have who have had their own traumatic experiences are the few who understand that the story will never bring to mind the humor or the irony of the situation to me, but will rather resurrect the darkest moments of the experience, the moments of most uncertainty and most fear. 

Biss’s fear manifested in an obsession with vaccination. Determined to make her son immortal, to avoid another medical scare, she began tireless research into every vaccine: its history, side effects, ingredients, and makers. On Immunity is filled with pieces of that research. It also, more importantly, documents her exhaustion, terror, and constant paranoia surrounding her family’s health. As the months go on, Biss becomes more and more aware that her fear and her obsession is not sustainable. Her research had given her no definitive answer, no reassurance, and brought her no closer to the elusive immortality she craved for her son. 

Isn’t this easy, as a parent, to do? To become so desperate for your child’s health and safety that you become increasingly discouraged and downhearted at all the dangers of the world that directly threaten their health and wellbeing? To become paranoid that if you take your child into public they will touch something and become sick? That they will climb a tree, fall, and break their arm? This is especially easy for me to worry about, when just such a dramatic thing has happened to my family and resulted in months of healing and adjusting. It is only more tempting because Klaus spent a week in the NICU, because my pregnancy was awful and my birth long and exhausting. 

Biss’s conclusion is not a guide to immortality. Instead, it is a sweet release from fear. She concludes that the only option she has to live without this paranoia is to trust the people in whose care she has placed her son. To acknowledge that she does not have the knowledge, the time, or the ability to read every account of every vaccine and determine its viability and safety. To acknowledge that her child will get sick, and that her peace will have to come from the knowledge that she did the best she could with the limited resources she had. Admitting that you do not have control is perhaps the greatest struggle of adulthood, but it leads to the greatest gift: faith in Him who does have control, and in those whom He has placed in our lives to serve us, tend to us, and advise us in all areas of life. Without On Immunity, it would have been much easier for me to spiral into constant fear and the desperate need for complete control over my life. Instead, I am able to do my best with the limited resources I have, and to trust in God to care for my family and our health. If you have ever felt exhausted by sickness, or yearned for comfort in an uncertain world, I recommend On Immunity to you; it is a great reminder that peace does not come from control but from faith.