Today is Dec 1, 2012. 5:37 am Eastern. I sat up in a shot from a dead sleep. In the whirlwind of the past few days, I forgot that it was my turn to format and post today’s blog (yes…I think TMR in my sleep). I jump online and see that one of my fellow thinkers BK saved my ass and took care of it. See…that’s what we do. We’ve got each other’s backs. And I’m not just talking about the blog. I’m talking about our lives.
Once I realized that the blog was scheduled and set, I should have crawled back into bed and grabbed another hour or so before the kids wake up and the typical Saturday mayhem ensues…
But I didn’t do that. I made a coffee, sat on my dark patio, and enjoyed the pre-dawn silence for a bit. I started to read my newsfeed and a few PMs on my phone and like a freight train, I started sobbing. REALLY sobbing….like THE UGLY CRY…boogers dripping and all. My body trembled. My chest got tight. I started to sweat. It was visceral.
Memories came flooding back. In my Mind’s Eye, I saw J getting his shots. I’m holding his little leg, whispering in his ear, “It’s ok baby, you’re fine” as he screamed, his little body tensing up as the needles went into his chunky little thigh….one after another. Memories of the projectile vomiting that lasted for over a year of his life. Images of the yellow, toxic shit. I can still smell it. Images of the bizarre sores that developed on his little body. Of the thrush. Of the petit mal seizures. All flashing through my head like a twisted flip book you made as a kid.
None of this should have happened. I realized I was having a PTSD moment.
This week has been a roller coaster, to say the least. I have experienced that gamut of emotions over the past few days. Disgust, celebration, rage, vindication, and sadness….a deep, terrible sadness. I keep thinking to myself, “If something had been done after the hearings 10 years ago, maybe my babies would have been spared from this hell. Maybe YOUR babies would have been spared.”
I am trying to type through my tears. I am fucking furious. I am heartbroken. This has brought it all back. Like picking scabs and opening the wound all over again….rubbing pink salt and ACV in it….
This happened to our kids. We are NOT FUCKING CRAZY! We are not looking for someone to blame. We are just every day, regular people. Just Moms & Dads that wanted to have children who grew up to be happy and healthy people. Who grew up to be successful in whatever they chose to do. We had dreams for our kids.
I have always wanted to travel Europe. When I got pregnant with J, I knew that wasn’t something in the cards for me. Then O came alone. I decided that when I was 50, J would be 18 and O would be 16. I would take them backpacking around Europe, celebrating three milestone birthdays and making memories on a trip of a lifetime. Autism stole that dream from me. It stole so many dreams. Simple dreams that regular folks take for granted. Will they ever drive a car? Date a pretty girl and go to prom? Go to college? Get drunk at Frat parties? Become successful at whatever they wanted to do?
Now, my thoughts of their future are different. And very scary. Will they be bullied? Will they ever be able to live on their own? Will they have a job? Will J ever be able to talk without scripting Dora? Will they ever be truly healthy again? Will people hurt them and take advantage of them? Will I be able to care for them long term? Who will watch over them when I die?
I’m crying again.
I have so many friends in this community….from Original Gangstas to Newbie Moms fresh from the Neurologist’s office…ink on the diagnosis still wet. Some so optimistic about the hearings. Others, not so much…and I get that. They’ve done this song and dance before. They have testified before Congress. Marched on Washington. Screamed from the rooftops for over a decade.
And where are we now? What have we got? We are deeper in this shit storm than they could have ever imagined. “Official” numbers – 1 in 88 (inaccurate, as we all know). Sick kids coming out of the woodwork. Autism, ADHD, Asthma, Allergies, Seizures…..neurological damage. Nothing has changed, it’s just gotten worse.
So what makes NOW so different?? The cat’s out of the bag. You can’t ignore the stimming, medically-ill elephant in the room anymore. People are starting to listen. To wake the hell up. To THINK.
We need to keep this going. No more celebrating. We need action. We need to keep the fire lit under their asses. We need to continue the fight. WE need to be the catalyst for change.
We owe it to the thinkers before us, to the children needlessly damaged and to the babies of the future.
I am so proud of our community. We will win. If anyone can bring change, it’s us.
If not us, who?
I hear stirring over head. I must now go wash my face and start making breakfast for my Fellas. And hug them extra tight. And kiss their little faces a hundred times. And whisper “I’m sorry” in their ears. I am so sorry, Dudes. I will go into a box in the ground fighting to make this right.
I love you people. Keep Thinking. Keep Fighting. Keep telling your story.
Make them have no choice but to listen to us.
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