I Am Still A Mother

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My heart still beats for love of him although he’s left this place.

Mind replay moments of his life, new memories leave no trace.

I reach for him during rest thinking it has all been a bad dream,

But when my waking thoughts come back I realize and scream.

 

I sang him songs within the womb and four years followed suit,

Twinkle-Twinkle, ABC’s, You Are My Sunshine sung in tune.

The music has left my voice and hollow sounds lament,

I now sing songs of silence to the life that you should have.

 

My arms have never felt so empty and so heavy all at once.

I embrace the day you blessed my life as God welcomed me a son.

I mourn the day God took you home and left me without one.

 

I am still your mother dear no matter how far you may be.

The only difference now my love, is now you watch over me.

Helplessness Starts With a 4-Letter Word

“Mutual helplessness is the essential relation between parent and child.”
― Marty Rubin

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Helpless is the only word I can think of to describe it. I have been converted back to a small child wailing, grasping at air, clawing for things I can’t comprehend…helpless. Four years I had the task of caring for my son and apparently, I am the only one who observed but didn’t really comprehend until now.

If a man took my son and shot him nine times on a busy city street would anyone stop to help him? I wonder with so many witnesses would an attorney lay claim in court to prove that my son had been murdered. Of course, there are teams of justice in-place for such things to remove criminals from our city streets and they are imprisoned for their crimes. Killers remove lives and the damage touches the souls of everyone that loved the one departed. Those teams of justice are supposed to give voice to those whose voices can no longer be heard.

I have spoken to 20 attorneys and no one will bear witness to the horrible crime that happened to my son. They ask for a smoking gun, a confession that reads: I injected this boy with 9 vaccines, which resulted in his death. Even the killer in the street wouldn’t confess his crime of guilty, why would a physician?

Helplessness is when the pharmaceutical companies receive complaints that their drugs are causing adverse reactions and death and the government says, hey here’s a get out of jail free card. We will make it so nobody can hold you accountable and these people can file a claim in an established governmentally-funded vaccine court. We might as well open a burger joint outside a cattle farm with an invitation that reads, welcome all vegans: all you can eat.

I had a dream, many dreams for my only child Johnathan. I never thought I would place his name on a stone next to mine before my demise. I wake up every day fighting tears from the helplessness of a reality I don’t want to exist in.  I’m not looking for money; I am looking for justice for a little boy whose voice was taken from him at a pediatrician’s office.

You can call me crazy, one of those crazy anti-vax people who plan on bringing down modern medicine with “fake-news” and pseudo-science. You can call me whatever the fuck you want, I just don’t care anymore. Take one look at your child and say to yourself, can I imagine the rest of my life without them in it? No, you can’t imagine, because that feeling of helplessness will never take hold unless that happens to you…I hope it never happens to you. I’ll tell you what I do believe in, accuracy and thorough scientific studies that prove 100% without a doubt that adjuvants within vaccines are truly safe and effective. I want to see a vaccine court that no longer exists because people no longer suffer injury and death, VAERS eradicated, children, living long lives free of autism and neurological deficits. Anything less than that isn’t acceptable in my eyes and I struggle to understand how this is crazy.

Ask questions, expand your beliefs, research, and most importantly; reach your own conclusions. The truth is, the world is a helpless place to live in and the crimes against humanity are very real.

 

SUDC Fundraiser-Johnathan’s Journey

Click Here To Support SUDC

 

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Please buy a t-shirt today to help raise money for the SUDC Foundation on behalf of Johnathan.

The SUDC Foundation is a registered 501(c)(3), that provides no-cost services to families and professionals affected by the sudden and unexpected death of a child 12 months and older. It is tasked with providing a centralized resource for information, support, and advocacy. And it serves families and professionals affected by the tragedy of SUDC and promotes awareness of SUDC in communities worldwide. https://sudc.org/

On February 25, 2017, my only son, Johnathan, fell asleep and never woke up. His death was listed as undetermined and the examiner found no cause. I found SUDC and they provided hope by offering to do further research on my son’s DNA and to look further into what took my 4-year-old son’s life. Furthermore, they did it at no cost. The SUDC Foundation has connected me to a group of mothers and fathers who understand that the loss of a child is a life-long journey and one no parent should have to walk alone. This is Johnathan’s Journey…

Johnathan’s Journey

Johnathan’s Journey

Click to Read: Johnathan’s Journey
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Today, one year ago today, the world lost the most amazing little boy named Johnathan or as he aptly called himself, Sunshine.

A medical examination was conducted as to what took my sweet son’s life, but the cause was left as undetermined with no medical explanation. Well, I am the type of person who refused to accept a non-answer as an explanation for anything, especially when it came to the loss of my only son.

I have spent every moment since researching, speaking with others, and reading medical journals to find answers. This is Johnathan’s story and the hope I hold is that you learn from my loss to prevent your own. We all need to know what’s really being injected into our children through vaccines and also understand that the amount given at one time is unconscionable.

These are my findings, harrowing experiences as a grieving mother, and my advice regarding a topic that’s been considered taboo for way too long. Open your eyes to the knowledge that is right in front of you and save the future for our children.

 

Happy 5th Birthday In Heaven

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Today, I was supposed to light 5 candles on your chocolate cake. You would look at me with a face full of frosting as your family and friends sang of another year older. That celebration of your life will never be made and instead, I light the candles of remembrance of a life taken away too soon.

The toys and the presents will remain unopened and the joyful cries of my son will never be heard. We will remember your laughter as a joyful memory that made everyone smile and recall the days of their own youth.

Why has the world chosen to move forward when the seconds of my life pass slowly without you by my side? I long for the moments of not having a minute to myself, of replacing batteries in your tank engines, making sure bubbles were added to your bath, and chocolate was added to your milk. I miss those moments when you would snuggle with me and tell me you love me. I would give my life to just see you run around the house breaking shit for just one day more.

Now the only thing that is left broken is my heart and without you, it will remain that way.

Happy Birthday to my son in Heaven. Mama loves you.

Will You Listen?

When a mother loses her only son, will you turn away from me and run?

Will the reality of how it happened make you uneasy?

I was promised he would be safe if I just listened to how things needed to be.

Did you stop to listen when we asked if 9 vaccines were safe, did you care to see?

He has allergies they confessed, dark circles are the reality of this.

You cannot say he died from this because a month did progress.

He had the strength of 15 men, he was fierce and strong, and relentless.

 

How did his strength and joy diminish, was it his time to relinquish?

How does a boy regress so quickly when all he did was love completely?

So tell me now that the shots you gave him, did not end a life so shortly antiquated.

I try and make sense of the story you gave me, that every child fits so perfectly into a mold of a schedule not tested, you took his life, you took our future.

Nobody is held accountable and I am left alone in this life so insurmountable.

You could have done them one at a time, instead, you killed him in his prime.

I’ll never see my son grow up, you took my love and life from me.

So stop and think next time they say that every child is built the same way.

 

 

 

“Thanks” and “Giving” Can Never Go Together Again

There might come a Thanksgiving where I can be thankful again, but this year I can’t put the words together, just know that I am trying. 

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In a couple days we will sit down with our friends and families and spend hours preparing for a meal that only lasts 30 minutes. For some of us, we are preparing for a day that we are asked to feel thankful, but all we can feel is numb.

For a grieving parent a holiday is a preparation of emotions and trying to decide how emotionally stable we think we are going to be that day. We try to avoid certain triggers that will cause us to cry in a crowded room and we stow away to the restroom when the air gets too thick. It is a preemptive decision to dive into an occasion where we are reminded that our child is not with us, but should be.

This is my first “Thanks” “Giving” without Johnathan. I’m not really sure if I can be thankful this year because for me it’s the taking that took place and not the giving. I feel selfish when I find myself at a social gathering because while I try to smile, I die inside. I can engage in conversation, but my mind is always traveling to one location-back to a time and place when my son was here.

In my mind, I laugh at the amount of food on the table that I know my son would never eat. He would stick his tongue out at the turkey, pick at the stuffing, and take a stab at the cranberry because it’s sweet-tasting. He would walk away dissatisfied while expressing his disgust at all food Thanksgiving. It was only when the desserts came out that Johnathan expressed an interest in sitting at the table.  I will peer across the table this Thursday searching for that face and come up empty as I search to define why I am thankful.

How do we prepare ourselves for anything anymore? Is it wise to just avoid everything or rather should we embrace the future and pretend in our minds that somehow our child is there with us in spirit? Both of these choices sound bleak and disheartening, but I push forward carrying nothing but my memories of a boy who will always be 4.

So if you find yourself sitting at the dinner table this Thanksgiving with someone who has lost their child please mention their child’s name. Share with them a memory of their child that will help them make it through the upcoming holidays. The worst pain a grieving parent can feel has already happened, but after that, it’s the not mentioning that continues to fester the wound.

There might come a Thanksgiving where I can be thankful again, but this year I can’t put the words together, just know that I am trying.