In a move critics will call both practical and existentially comedic, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists announced an update to its maternal immunization guidance. The updated document covers COVID-19, influenza, and RSV with the solemnity of a weather advisory and the enthusiasm of a wellness influencer’s unboxing video. Institutions across the country faked their surprise, then printed the update on recycled binder clips.

According to the new guidance, pregnant people should consider vaccines as part of prenatal care, because apparently smoothies were too quiet about protecting two lives. The guidance promises that immunity is a team sport, with mom and baby high-fiving from the bloodstream.

Medical professionals framed the update as routine, like a software patch for a life-support system. Side effects? Only slightly more paperwork.

ACOG insists the document is evidence-based and not a clever ploy to justify a new coffee break schedule for committee members. Still, administrators nodded as if they understood.

Public health departments thanked the update for adding clear language to the often-entangled vaccine conversation. Meanwhile, hospital gift shops prepared for a new surge in questions about the shot that protects two people at once.

The update lays out timing windows, suggested notes for clinicians, and a reminder that RSV vaccines are not a performance-enhancing drug for pregnant athletes. It also includes a checklist that reads like an airline safety card.

Rookie hospital interns were warned not to treat the document as a script for a blockbuster sequel. Instead, they should treat it as a globe-spanning memo to avoid patient confusion.

A surprising appendix reads like a shopper’s memo, recommending items that sound like wellness fads, including ‘prenatal vitamin gummies’ for bedside tables. If people start stocking up, the memo explains, it’s because prevention is a lifestyle, not a prescription.

The press conference featured a spokesperson whose bowtie matched the color of influenza statistics. Reporters peppered him with questions about side effects, and he responded with graphs that made eye contact feel like a spreadsheet.

Vaccine safety in pregnancy remains a priority, with every claim backed by data and a cheerful slide deck. The spokesperson joked that doom scrolling is the only risk that can’t be an evidence-based side effect.

Clinicians are told to check for contraindications and to ignore most radical memes on social media. In practice, they nod and pretend they understood the footnotes.

The public’s reaction includes memes and outdated clipart about tiny superheroes in utero. Some clinics reported more cartoonish thunderclouds than patient questions.

Analysts compare updates to airline safety cards—lots of pictures and a warning not to touch the ‘fasten seatbelt’ sign. The result is a document that makes sense to no one who isn’t fluent in bureaucratese.

A slide deck includes comfort tips like wearing ‘maternity compression socks’ during clinics, because apparently listening to recommendations can be a workout. Researchers urge you to stretch between consults and pretend you understood the footnotes.

ACOG’s bureaucracy team unveiled a QR code linking to more FAQs. The code apparently leads to a living document that updates when you blink.

Hospitals prepare to implement the guidance with new order sets and purple deadline alarms. Administrators say the deadlines glow softly in the night like neon pacifiers.

Some patients asked about exemptions for schools or travel. The answer involved a chart, a sigh, and a suggestion to contact their representative.

Some doctors described the two-vaccine-at-once schedule as efficient if alarming and offered extra napkins for patients who faint at the concept. The newsroom, of course, printed a graphic showing a tiny calendar doing jumping jacks.

Lawmakers nod along, hoping this means fewer emails about why ‘my doctor is not listening to me’. They pledge to track ‘vaccine confidence’ like a sports score.

Editors declare that satire aside, vaccines protect two generations; bureaucrats protect paperwork.

Footnotes emphasize that this is not medical advice, but a well-staged press release.

Ultimately the universe keeps spinning with a revised manual, a hopeful chart, and the quiet resignation of anyone who has tried to explain RSV to a toddler.