I’ve been having very vibrant dreams lately. They are filled with worry and they have one unifying theme…I am trying to save Johnathan.
I would always tell Johnathan that nothing bad could happen to him because mama would never let it. I would become this strong and fearless supermom if harm ever came his way. When people laughed at his helmet, I stared them down. When the first pediatric neurosurgeon wanted to cut his skull from ear-to-ear, I got a second opinion. When people stopped and stared when his behavior wasn’t “normal” I would hold him in my arms and tell him over and over how much I love him.
I never thought that doing the right thing could harm my son. I had always believed in the power of modern medicine and the benefits of vaccinations. Johnathan had every shot the CDC schedule recommended. I was listening to his doctors and adhering to the belief that they knew what was best for him.
On January 16, 2017, Johnathan went to his 4-year “wellness” visit where he received 9 vaccines at one time. On February 25, 2017, Johnathan suffered a Grand mal seizure and never woke up. After his shots, he was getting sick all the time at school. He continued to have fevers, clammy skin, and dark circles under his eyes. His behavior worsened and his progress he had made was rapidly regressing.
I can’t forgive myself for allowing the vaccines to take my son’s life. I will have to live every day with the knowledge that I gave permission for a doctor to poison my son’s immune system and brain. Some of you may experience that same guilt and as you know it tears you up every day. I see his face in a photograph and I want to scream at the top of my lungs that I had a choice. I hear his soft voice in a video and I want to tear my heart out because I thought I was doing the right thing.
Some people will tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that the doctor should have advised me of possible side effects. I now know that every aspect of your child’s health should be researched and scrutinized. Why didn’t I know this before?
For some of you reading this, you may have children who will be visiting their pediatrician for one of those “wellness” visits. I won’t tell you what to do or what not to do, but I urge you to do your own research. If you visit the resource page on this blog you will see many articles, videos, and testimonies regarding vaccinations and their harm to our children.
I can’t save my son, but my hope is that you’ll save yours.
I want to express how thankful I am to Polly and The Vaxxed Team for letting me tell Johnathan’s story. The work all of you do and the dedication to this cause shows in every story that would have otherwise been untold. You help grieving parents heal by providing them a platform to speak from their hearts.
We need to stop this injustice that’s harming and killing our children around the world. We need to join together and stand up for the littles ones who can’t tell their stories.
We need to ask the tough questions and we need to demand answers. What are you injecting into our children?
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by.”~Robert Frost
This life didn’t turn out the way I intended. It seems I have been battling a war my entire adult life. The loss of my son is the most tragic example of a life with intentions not met. I will never see my son graduate high-school, wait for his beautiful bride at the end of the aisle, lovingly hold his children, or have him hold my hand as I leave this Earth (physically of course). I can’t change what has happened and that is the most difficult realization.
Every morning when I wake up a great sadness enters my thoughts as I remind myself again that it was not all a terrible dream. I get ready for my day of pretending that I am okay and that I can handle anything. I do it well as I walk into work and focus on the task at hand. Nobody knows but me that my mind is consumed with thoughts of my son. I see his face in every one I meet and I hear his voice in every song I hear. How am I doing people ask, and I reply that I am fine and doing better every day. This is a line I have taught myself to speak on command in order to keep my job and live this “life”.
I do find happiness in signs from Johnathan and his constant ethereal presence in my life keeps me going. We hold conversations in my heart where he placed himself when he left this world. He leaves me feathers in the cemetery, pennies in the treadmill at the gym, heart-shaped stones, and the color yellow decorates this world in a way I never noticed before. He speaks to me through others reminding me to be happy and that he is always with me.
Ever since Johnathan was born I had this plan that no matter what happens in life as long as I had him life held meaning and purpose. I used to say that no matter how many failed relationships I had, having my little boy with me was all that I needed because he would never leave me. Not once did the thought of him leaving before me ever enter my mind. Until it happens, a parent has no idea nor can they fathom the reality of the greatest loss ever experienced.
I had to accept that my son was no longer with me in the physical since and that I can’t bring him back to life. I had to choose the road less traveled and it was no longer optional. I had to push forward on that road even though many times I was crawling and bleeding on the path. How does one build on a future when they only live in the past? I have no answers.
The only way I know how to push ahead is to hold onto my faith in God and to let him carry me down this road when I am just about to give up. I am a warrior who uses knowledge as her weapons and love as her shield. All I have are the words in my heart and I will keep sharing them to keep my son alive.
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled”…
Mother of Johnathan~Forever 4~
Many stories circulate regarding the loss of my little boy; it happens in a small town. What happened to my love that evening I will share with you. It was February 25, 2017 and Johnathan and I had just returned from a trip. He hadn’t slept the night before and he told me he wanted to go home. We drove home and stopped midway for an early lunch at a rest stop. I asked him what he wanted for lunch and he promptly pulled a Chocolate King-Kone from the freezer at the restaurant. I sat down with my pizza and he ate his cone from the bottom up. Johnathan held up his hands covered in stickiness and I knew that our next stop was the restroom. After washing our hands we headed home to Cold Brook. I remember wondering if I should stop by the new fire-station in Poland because he had such an affinity for all things fire alarms. I drove on looking back at my smiling wide-awake boy who was eagerly looking forward to going home to see his grandparents and play with his toys.
I informed Johnathan that he could play for a little while, but soon we would have to lay down for a nap because he hadn’t slept the night before. When it was time we walked upstairs and the rain had just started to fall. The blinds were open and Johnathan wanted to open the windows and listen to the rain. It was cold at that point and I told him that he could look but it was too cold to open the windows. I shut the blinds and held him in my arms until I thought he fell asleep. He got out of bed and went downstairs to play with grandma. She told me, he whispered to her and asked her to play with him because Pop Pop was sleeping in the chair. They played for some time and I was woken up to her asking me to come get Johnathan for his nap. I carried him upstairs and again let him know that it was nap-time and that mama would lay with him. I held him in my arms and put the blanket around us and we both fell asleep as soon as we laid down.
I awoke an hour later and found that the storm was getting worse outside. Thunder and lighting had accompanied the rainstorm and now snow was falling at a intrepid rate. I went downstairs to watch TV when the lights went out. It was cold and I asked Dad if we should start the generator. He said he would wait awhile to see if the lights would come back on. It was getting late and I put a candle in our room so Johnathan wouldn’t be scared when he woke up. I walked over to the bed to wake him and he didn’t stir. He was a light sleeper and I called to him again and again but he didn’t wake. I pulled the cover off of him and felt his body was cold even though he had been under a blanket. At first it didn’t translate that anything was wrong until I picked him up. I carried him downstairs calling to my mother to help me and that Johnathan was sick. We walked downstairs and laid him on the couch.
By this point my father was trying to get the generator going outside in the garage. I asked my mother to wake Johnathan up while I ran outside to get my father. The next moments are a blur to me and time means nothing throughout the rest of the evening. I remember my father starting CPR. I remember him asking Michael to call 9-1-1 on his cell phone. I remember my mother throwing a jacket on me and scooting me outside because I was inconsolable.
Volunteer EMS from Poland soon arrived and tried to bring life back to my son. I didn’t know what was happening so I got on my knees and prayed because it was the only thing I could do. I begged God to take me and bring Johnny back. I made many bargains with God that day. We made our way to the hospital after the ambulance arrived and I prayed and even had hope that he would be okay. I remember walking into the emergency room where a team of medical personal waited. I saw Johnathan lying there with all the help the world could offer but I knew that only God could help him now.
After what seemed like hours a doctor asked me if I would like them to continue. I looked at my little boy and his abdomen was swollen and the bottom of his feet were yellow and I knew that he was gone. I walked over to my son and felt his hair and kissed his forehead and said goodbye. I was able to rock my son, hold him, and sing lullabies to him one last time before he was taken away. By this time most of my extended family had arrived as well as a priest and we prayed over Johnathan and asked God to watch over our precious angel.
On this day I lost the love of my life. My son Johnathan will forever be 4-years-old. On the evening of February 25, 2017 he laid down for a nap and never awoke. He closed his eyes and I held in my arms unaware of the damage that had been going on inside him. I have created this page not only in his memory, but also to share with you the journey of Johnathan’s life. It is my hope that you will use the resources I provide to make an educated choice regarding a safe vaccination schedule for your own children.
I pray that no other families will suffer as we have from the loss of their child. This atrocity could have been prevented had I known that the CDC vaccination schedule is only recommended and does not have to be adhered to. If I had known that administering seven shots during one doctors visit could have caused this, I would not be writing this blog. Instead, I would be holding my little boy.
This is Johnathan’s Journey.