On being forged into a warrior mom

If I could summarize our journey from Hell to HOPEISM, it would be in my faith, which I call HOPEISM. It has been my weapon of choice to get me through each battle I have had to fight in my mission to win our war called life with autism and seizures. Vaccine injury to be more specific. It would also be in committing to heart, soul, & mind the words and motto's from Forged, NDCQ, the Lone Survivor, and Levi Lusko in his book, "Through the Eyes of a Lion." I will be forever grateful to the inspiration, encouragement, and mental fortitude found through all of them collectively. Because of that, I am not allowing this tragedy of vaccine injury that has come into our lives to be an obstacle to being used by God. I am instead turning it into an opportunity to be used like never before!

This blog is dedicated to Brandon. His life has been forged by difficulty, obstacles, & all too often because of seizures - pain, blood, broken teeth, & broken bones. Yet through all that he has shown such fortitude. The bravery, strength, & resilience of a true warrior. He taught me that having strength through adversity means that even if you lose every battle, like the Lone Survivor, you never quit fighting until you win the war. That in the words of "NDCQ," you keep "dreaming," keep "daring," & keep "doing." As Team Guppy has yet to be able to escape vaccine injury, we have no choice but to as Levi Lusko writes, "Run toward the Roar." God has indeed given us such incredible power in enduring such impossible pain.

Some days the HOPEISM in that simply takes my breath away.

December 6, 2012

My Grown Up Christmas Wish...

My local Christian radio station, KSBJ, is asking for letters mailed to them about what your "Grown Up Christmas List" is.

I've thought about it quite often - just about every day of the year really. From last Fall until this Fall, all I wanted for Christmas was my son's two front teeth. Literally. Seizures took them, twice. One all but a sliver, the other fared much better. Just a chunk missing. It was really sad that if my son were a typical boy, I wouldn't have had to wait that long. I wouldn't have had to place him on a year-long waiting list because too few dentist's choose to specialize in a population of children, youth, and adults who have unique needs and require general anesthesia.

So needless to say, my "Grown Up Christmas List" centers around him. My sweet son who is now an adult who is non-verbal, significantly affected by autism, gastrointestinal disease, and seizures.

I want for him a medical doctor in a typical medical center who will leave me speechless by how much they know about the biomedical treatment of vaccine induced autism; not by what they won't even consider in how vaccine injury caused all the biomedical disorders I came to seeking treatment for.

I want for him to not be in pain, and when he is, to be able to tell me where.

I want to know how to fix that pain.

I want Physicians to go back to where they practice medicine, and don't prescribe it.

I want Pharma to stop poisoning our children. Drugging them. Making them customers for life.

I want the Government to stop mandating vaccinations, and instead mandate GMO-labeling. Heck - what I really want is no more GMO's.

I want Politicians to remember that they work for us peasants, not the Kings. That they should be speaking for those who can't speak for themselves -- by listening to those who know them best --- the ones who love them, care for them. Fight for them. Would die for them.

I want for him all the Christmases past that he missed because he would rather be alone in his room banging his head against the wall. All the untouched presents opened & played with that he could care less about because it was only the ribbon that he wanted to flap over and over. All the classroom parties that he could not be a part of because it was just too much of a sensory overload.  All the friendships he never had because he didn't know how to play what they wanted to play.

All the Santa pictures we missed because his imagination was taken away along with his health and he could not understand who Santa was or why I was trying unsuccessfully to make him sit on his lap.

All the letters to Santa he could not write.

I want for him Christmas present where he can for once take part. Seizure-free. Leaky-gut free. Pain-free. I want him to have the vision of sugar plums. I want him to not be able to sleep in anticipation of Christmas Day. I want him to watch The Nativity Story with me and make fun of me when I cry.  I want him to take part in telling stories at dinner and playing games after dessert.

I want to see him fight his big brother for the last roll.

I want for him a Christmas future that doesn't scare the hell out of me. One where I can die peacefully knowing that someone will be there to make his GFCFSF Gravy. Buy him Christmas Candy he can eat. Include him in their celebration no matter the chaos. Who will check him many times a night to make sure he's dry, clean, breathing.

For my Grown Up Christmas List, if I can't have for him a Driver's License, Prom, College, Marriage, or Children of his own, then I want for him to be treated with dignity, respect. To be loved as a person and not just cared for as a client. To feel safe. To not be abused, neglected, maimed, or murdered in some dark corner of an institution. To have a home in his community with his friends. To not be alone. To be valued. Seen as worthy. To live, laugh, continue to learn. To be free. Have choices. He likes long baths, not quick showers. He loves to be outside on a trampoline, not inside drugged up and made to sit in front of a television.

I fight for these things on my Grown Up Christmas List each and every day, so I suppose the last thing on my list would be to not have to fight for them anymore...

For it to just be.

Among all these things I wish for - there are two things I'm most thankful I don't have to wish for... 

Unconditional love.

This season, more than any other, is about love. The unconditional love Christ has for us. And for those who see that as something far too distant, there are people like my son who are unconditional love on earth. They don't see race, color, gender, religion. Democrat or Republican. They don't do deceit, lies, hate, or bullying. They simply do love. Unconditional love. The one thing people in this world crave, is possessed by those they turn away or don't take the time to know.

Christmas Spirit from within.

Brandon has taught me that no matter what age you are, you can still have that childlike innocence of not being embarrassed to admit that you love to read "Twas the Night before Christmas." I won't ever think I'm too old to believe in Santa or too smart or prideful to not believe it possible that at Christmas so very long ago in a stable, a Virgin gave Birth to a Savior who would be called "Emmanuel -- God is with us."

Thanks to Brandon I'll always hear the Christmas Bell ringing, where if there were a word to put with that sound, for me it would be -


 Long ring the bells of Hopeism.........

1 comment:

Teresa Holman said...

So very true... ditto, or Amen, or both. I wish for one Christmas where Britton felt part of it. He always hides in his room while my other children and now grand children open their gifts. Sometimes he has gifts that stay up in his room for 6-8 months before he will unwrap them. He seems very disturbed by the tearing of the paper. So now, we put his things in gift bags. AND WHAT..what, do you buy someone with autism? I HATE when family members ask me. Cause the truth is, I have NO IDEA WHATSOEVER! I told my husband last week, when I asked Britton a question and he shook his head "No." Wow remember it's only been three years that he could shake his head. Now that's a gift. I want some kind of, I don't know peek into his hopes, his dreams? But it's always too much to ask...