The Nightmare

Last night I had a nightmare. Keelie was swept away by the violent, screaming wind when I allowed her go outside to play in a tornado. I woke up gasping for breath, my heart in my throat, a jagged and painful hole in my stomach. I stifled my sobbing as I prayed, face down in my pillow for the nightmare to end and for the horrible feelings of guilt and regret to go away.

This often happens when I speak to others--typically young mothers--about the risks of vaccines. No, I don't preach to either party--the pro or anti vaccine campaign. I try to stay as far as I can from that debate. However, there are times when I am confronted, asked my opinion. It is then that the old wounds open up, the floor drops from under my feet and I find myself crying, choking on tears as I drive away from the "special" school my daughter attends as they try to "undo" what autism has done to her. To think about what could have been, maybe even what should have been, is useless; it only causes pain.

You see, I get approached a lot by other mothers seeking my advice on how to avoid the nightmare that is autism. Throughout time there have been several theories about the disorder, why and how it surfaces in one child but not another. Some of these theories include the ridiculous and archaic idea that autism was caused by cold and aloof, unloving mothers. I've heard the theory that autism is caused by allowing young children to watch television (which is absolutely absurd as my daughter has never watched television; she can't connect to an animated box on the wall). The most recent, and definitely most plausible theory is that autism is caused by vaccinations in infancy and early childhood. Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not here to prove or disprove that notion. I'm only here to say that to dwell on that idea after the fact, once autism has reared its ugly head in a family, is to prevent a family from moving forward.

I love my children with all my heart and would never knowingly do anything to hurt, let alone permanently disable, one of them. Which is precisely why I took them to the pediatrician and allowed microscopic organisms to be injected into their tiny bodies. For three of my children, this safely prevented them from getting pertussis when four of their unvaccinated friends were quarantined for three months, coughing day and night to the point of vomiting. For one of my children, it may or may not have stolen her ability to reason and communicate with the world. The truth is, I will never know for sure.

No, I will never know for sure if something I did or did not do caused my daughter's life-long disability. What I do know for sure is that the more time I spend trying to place blame, the more time I spend in pain. On the outside, I may seem confident, sure of my family and Heavenly Father's plan for us, quoting scriptures that boost my testimony and buoy me up when the strangling nightmares return. But when you scratch my cool and confident surface, if you hit just the right spot, I will bleed my regrets, my sorrows, my grief.

If you are a parent looking for answers to the vaccine question, I recommend that you do your research, ask doctors, and pray, pray, pray.

If you are a parent caring for a disabled child, I say keep your chin up and understand that Heavenly Father has a plan for you.

“And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him”(John 9: 1-3).

"Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with  the right hand of my righteousness"(Isaiah 41: 10).