“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.

I’ll Save You

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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.

Resources

Interview With the Vaxxed Team

 

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?