I skipped February?  Well, I suppose that is easy to do considering it's a short month and for the half of it we were battling a pretty gross stomach bug in our house.  

In the midst of that Andrew clearly needed to see a doctor because his cough was pretty brutal.  I thought I had cured his ear infection with homemade garlic oil drops and pulsatilla.  Wrong!  We did a course of antibiotics and two nebulizer treatments. They recommended treatments every four hours but he really only needed it twice and I really hate giving western meds when unnecessary now.  The two doses he did get left him screaming for hours on end, bringing me back mentally to those days of his vax-injury fever.  Rough place to visit. 

We saw some really amazing gains last month with Andrew.  He's answering questions with a yes or no, almost always responds to his name, his eye contact and level of awareness, I would classify as typical now.  Or darn close.  It's amazing and I oscillate between being incredibly proud and enjoying each moment to being suuuuuuper hungry for more gains. 

Our genetic testing came back and to simplify: we are anxious to review with Dr. Gruber.  I clearly passed down the mthfr 1298 mutation, as all 3 have it (and do does my mother).  No one besides Andrew has the c677t.  He has a long, long list of mutations that I am anxious to learn more about. Ben has less of a list, and Ava even less complications.  This, at least, is good news.  But, with them both having the mthfr 1298c, I know for sure that any further vaccines are dangerous for any of them (not to mention, for me as well).  How different would our lives be if they did this kind of testing before vaccinating?  To identify the kids "at risk", like mine.  

Can't dwell. Can just use it to move forward and try to support his body's gene mutations as we can and restore good health for him.  For all 3 of them. 

In any case, I had a doc appt for myself at our old family doc two weeks ago.  End of February "have you had your flu shot yet this year?"   Absolutely not! "We will get you one today."  Absolutely not! It's the end of February and that shit is poison.  It is absolutely ridiculous.  The only people I know who got the flu this year, got the shot.   

Thankfully Andrew's new pedi office didn't even ask when we went in there.  I am taking that as a good sign.  His old doc thought it was a good idea to do their shots when he was sick because his immune system was "already working".  Asshole.  These new docs must actually read the science.  

Peace.  

It must be said.

My third blog post in a week?! And from my iPhone.  This one's been percolating for about 24 hours.

Yesterday, I had five new autism families come to me for help. FIVE.  It's usually one or two a week.  When the family comes to you, you hear their story. You relive your own. You remember the frantic helplessness. You remember the longest lasting anguish imaginable. Five times yesterday.

My purpose on this planet now is to show others the way around chronic illness, and through it if they are already there. 

But it's also to stay strong enough here to keep pulling myself and my son through it, and yesterday made my well run dry.  Going to have to learn to balance this if this volume of numbers continues.   

Andrew is walking for a day or two after a pulsatilla dose, then stopping again.  Going to talk to the doc about it Monday when I bring Ava in.

I have had high-anxiety dreams this week, they are making my heart and head race and keep me on edge all day long. 

Tuesday I was in the grocery store with Benjamin, picking up things to make a meal for a new-mom friend, and in the gluten free aisles ran into a mom of autism. They dabble in gluten and dairy free, but haven't gone full force .  She asked if it helped and I told her diet has been our most important intervention. She looked like she wanted to ask more. I didn't offer anything.  Nothing.  Since when do I stay silent?  How long will it haunt me that I could have sent her to Dr Gruber or TACA and I did NOTHING?   Said nothing. 

Am I trying so hard to be non confrontational that I am denying my truth?

It's a balancing act.  Every day I post stories about sick babies and I think: how many more oft real life friends will block me on Facebook today?  So in real life with this woman, I didn't want a rejection?   Why does my pride even get to be a factor in the quest to save babies?  So unlike me. 

But it's cost me. I feel uncomfortable around most humans now: they know what I think, the articles I post, my thoughts on this blog. And it's all out there because it's such an important story to tell: autism is treatable and preventable.  We are proving it.  But at a cost.   I can say I don't care what you think of me, but in truth, when you turn around and get your child the flu shot after the year of work I have done, it feels like a blatant rejection of me and my truth.

My feelings shouldn't matter in this.  It's okay when friends agree to disagree. But this, children's health, is my purpose, and feels like my entire life, so it is difficult to not take it personally when the humans around me , sweet friends of mine, make different choices. I am isolating myself a lot, on purpose. 

And I know there are people making different choices because of my truth, and that's really all I can ask for. 

Some days it just gets to me.

I have given you 81 peer reviewed, published in medical journal studies that prove the vaccination/autism connection. It's not just the heavy metals/neurotoxins. It's everything about them. They change our very DNA.  I have showed you the role GMOs play in our poor health.  Showed you that Tylenol causes autism and asthma. I have linked you to articles that prove beyond a shadow of doubt that herd immunity is fiction, that outbreaks are cyclical. That we create new diseases with vaccinations. That the effects of even one round of antibiotics change the body forever. I really don't know what is left to question. 

Part of the problem this week is that I am tired! I am taking care of ME! And exercising six days a week, for going on 3 weeks, and have already lost 6 lbs. my body is changing and I am a little more sensitive because I am hungry, and out here exposed without my ice cream crutch to make it better at the end of the day.  

My heart is, as always, thankful. We are in such a good place.  It's just a strange transition time. 

The healing power of homeopathy

So, Andrew got sick the Sunday after Christmas.  The stomach bug that lasted five/six days. It was really rough.  By the end, our guy was pretty weak and very tired.  Within a few days of his recovery, though, we began to notice he wouldn't walk.  He was parked on the couch or clinging to us til we held him. He was incredibly wobbly when we put him in the middle of the room, could barely make it to the couch.  Poor boy.

His SonRise sessions occurred on his volunteers laps.

I started to worry, we had a naturopath appt scheduled but it kept getting moved due to a burst pipe in her new office.  As we approached two weeks of him not walking, I was extremely concerned.

On Monday we finally went to our DAN/ND.  I relayed the story above to her, and she smiled and said, easy! He needs pulsatilla!    

I had pulsatilla in my cabinet. We use it to ward off colds and for Bens extraordinary clinginess/shyness when it gets bad.  We popped two in Andrews mouth and the appointment continued.

I carried him out to the waiting room and went for his coat and was paying, and he was gone!!! He had run down the hall to his doctor's office.  Ha!! It works quickly!

We had to re- dose him yesterday again, but today he is up on his feet like nothing ever happened.

Next on my "to become an expert in" list, homeopathy. 

January 17

This week marks our one year autism anniversary.  Just as on the day of diagnosis, there will be no tears or sadness.   But for entirely different reasons.  On his day of diagnosis, I was all cried out. We needed the label to have access to services.  It didn't mean anything.  I had cried for months about losing the Andrew I knew.  I don't have to tell you about my intense grief -- you already read it. 

Today, a year later, there are no tears because I am content.  I have learned that autism isn't a life sentence.  I have learned so much to help Andrew's symptoms, there are days he hardly seems fitting of the diagnosis.  Today I celebrate so much of my life because the people in it , those there before and now these amazing friends I have met since, are gifts I wouldn't have otherwise.   My marriage has never been stronger.  My outlook has never been more positive.  I celebrate each day and little progression so much, nothing goes unnoticed, which is a pretty awesome way to spend my days.  Celebrating my kids and our steps forward. 

On this 1-year anniversary of autism I am thankful we are on the road to recovery.   His ATEC (evaluation to determine severity of affliction) was 106 a year ago (anything over 104 is severe ), and today it's 35.    And that means on his 2 year anniversary of diagnosis, he could easily be recovered.  

Well, not easily.  It's a crapload of work.  The research hours, the food, the supplementation, the therapy and the attitude take a toooooon of work. 

But a medically healthy boy at the finish line?  I would do it for my whole life if I had to. 

And I am discovering, meanwhile, that I have a crazy powerful mind.  The more often I am in my attitudinal best zone, the cooler my life becomes.  Parking spaces open up for me. A card comes on the mail or a beautiful message from a dear friend is posted in my Facebook wall.  My favorite song comes on the radio.  Children obey. God, the universe, call it what you want, it's all the same, delivers gifts to those whose eyes and hearts are open to receiving them. It's a really cool place too be. And it's what I strive to be in daily. 

I am back on the diet and exercise regimen I was on before autism came.  It's so easy compared to the first time.  I know where I am headed and what it takes to get there.  

All from an autism diagnosis, one year ago this week. 

December

I am thankful for this road I have travelled, because had I not walked it, I wouldn't have seen the things I have seen or met the people I have met...

This phrase has been in the forefront of my mind this week.   

Let me tell you, that from the place of deep fear and am get that I lived in to this place of thankfulness, what a difference it makes in my quality of life. 

And it isn't even a choice anymore to focus on the positive.  It's all there is:  these autism moms who are in my life and understand everything about me, to the good in the community that surrounds me, to the miracle of Andrews undeniable recovery happening before my eyes each day--- there's just so much good, it's what I am swimming in.  

Truly, I think, what if he never became autistic?  And life carried on the path I was on.  Sure, I would have been spared a lot of grief and heartache, but things weren't perfect.  Life has challenges and we were deep in ours before autism came.   And I had very little perspective compared to now.   Autism has made us all healthier and happier.  Ha! Can you imagine? 

Oh yes there are days I am mad.  I hate mandatory flu shots and I get very frustrated with some of the very evident damage that has been done to our bodies before I woke the hell up.  It's hard because I know my children are growing up in a scary, poisonous world and I certainly did not give them the best shot at healthy lives ---especially Ava, who lived the longest with my poor decision making.   All I can hope for is that she will make better choices for herself and her family some day.  My children will know the truth and can be informed, powerful decision makers in their lives. 

So, I am thankful. Still.  Maybe not zen like October, but thankful.  I cannot imagine my life without my fellow autism moms.  I have just entered this circle of powerful, amazing women who I have known less than a month and yet they are already a second family.  Because they know.  More on this, later :) 

Andrew.   Andrew has had a hell of a month.  He is now on 5- MTHF five days a week and has finished two vaccine clears.  One more to go.  He is blossoming, literally, before our eyes.  He is curious and is actively exploring everything.  He spends NO time each day isming.  None.   From most hours of his day two months ago to no hours.  He hugged Ben.  He seems totally enchanted by Ava.   His sleep is the best it's ever been.  He's so social.  He still prefers the quiet of his SonRise room to the chaos of the living room, but quite frankly, so do I.  He's rediscovering his love of books.  But instead of stimming on the turning pages he is looking at the pictures and following points to items on the pages.   He loves his SonRise volunteers and is thriving in this type of therapy.  

He's awesome. 

SonRise and Biomed - November's Update

With two deaths in our family, the trip to SonRise, then a house of sick people, one right after the other, we were a bit delayed beginning Andrew's SonRise program.  

Now that we are in the swing of things, it's looking different than I had anticipated, but it's more beautiful than I could have hoped for.  The friends of ours who have graciously given of their time each week to make this commitment to our sweet boy? Amazing.  For all the BAD in the world I have learned about this year, I swear there's ten times as much GOOD surrounding my family.  

Andrew has had many miracle moments in these last weeks.  He's gravitating away from his stop signs (!!!!!!) and toward blocks, puzzles, and shapes. He is interested in exploring all different toys and objects, independently or when presented with the item.   He vocalizes constantly.   He is sleeping better.  He shared a toy with one of his volunteers.  He climbed on his sister's lap. He reached up to me to be lifted from his crib. Major, mini miracle moments.  Those are what we live for in this house.  

We saw a new DAN doc who does homeopathy.  We are attributing many of these gains to these interventions. Vaccine clears.  High folate.  Very exciting stuff. 

It's so interesting, when you go see a mainstream doctor, all allopathoc medicines and interventions are tauted.  Declining vaccines or other interventions is strongly frowned upon.   And then you go see a DAN or naturopath, and it's common knowledge that vaccines are damaging and antibiotics too.  So you worry about being judged for DOING these things.     But this doctor was totally accepting and zen and I was very comfortable with her. 

So life keeps moving forward here, day by day, exploring SonRise therapy, administering supplements, loving our special moments with our sweet boy, and holding faith for his future. 

We have a PPT with the school coming up right after the holidays.  With my awesome therapists in my court and a wonderful SonRise program at home, I am not the least bit concerned or worried about this.  Anyone who knows me personally is going "wow" right now, because worry was my favorite hobby. THANK YOU OPTION INSTITUTE!  I can actually mentally choose to not physically worry.   Wow!  Is there a greater gift an autism mom could have???

I can get in discussions about autism with people from all walks and thoughts, and my blood pressure remains stable.  Lol!  I can walk away from debate, inform without fear, or converse with ease on the topic of vaccines.   My whole life has changed.  

So in a nutshell, our update is this: thank you for helping me get to SonRise, because even though Andrew is still recovering from his vaccine injury, I have recovered from mine.  

Sunshine, rainbows, happiness, and SonRise, the experience.

I am not in any way trying to minimize this really amazing experience by joking about rainbows and sunshine.

This isn't about fake.  This isn't about fluff.

I am being armed with real, powerful tools to go home and create an effective, loving program, personalized for my sweet son.  This program has recovered hundreds, thousands of autistic children, yes.  Because our brains are moldable.  Our cells are constantly moving.   The body tends toward healing.   And then there is the miracle of the "will to live" that  is a powerful force indeed. 

And at the same time, I am being taught that if I do not fear a life with autism, I have nothing to lose.  If I let go of disappointment, I have nothing to lose by dreaming big. 

For example:  last Halloween, we went trick or treating.  Ava and Ben happily ran from door to door with their friends.   Andrew found a stop sign, made a beeline for it, and hung out there gazing at it for the remainder of the evening.

On that night, while I wasn't embarrassed as perhaps some might be, I was sure disappointed. What was wrong with Andrew that he couldn't "get it"?  I didn't know it was autism yet, but I thought, will he never have this experience?    And this whole last year I have looked back on that night with sadness and anger.  

Now, I can look back at that night knowing that stop signs, street signs, are Andrews way to deal with this crazy world he has to navigate.  The lines are always straight, the colors bold, the shapes familiar and always, always the same.    Seeing a sign in the confusing darkness of that night, he found a way to be happy. 

And now, I dont have to dread Halloween anymore.  If one of us can be happy with our trick or treaters, and one can be happy watching our little street sign lover, we have no problem.  Everyone wins. Everyone has a great night. 

I now I have the tools to live my life as a mother of a special child. I did not come into the world equipped for this. He didn't come with an owners manual, none of our kids do.     I am so thankful to those who have blazed this trail of autism before me. 

And then I am being armed with tools to connect with my son.  So even if, there is no recovery at the end, it's a hell of a journey anyway, and we will all be better for it.  

Thank you for getting me here. 

You may be asking, what about your rage against the vaccines?!  You are angry! You are mad! 

I don't know how I feel about this topic right now.   What I do know is I have spent a large quantity of time and energy on it that is better spent elsewhere. We as parents have a duty to educate ourselves.   But I cannot live with the anger I carried anymore. Not if I want to work from a platform of peace and happiness so Andrew is more attracted to my face, more able to notice my presence, and not feel negative energy emanating from my every pore. 

It's time to move forward.