Wednesday, February 11, 2015
In Response to CNN's Elizabeth Cohen's rant on vaccines and autism, CDC whistle blower news, William Thompson and the blatant disregard of our children. -A Mother’s Description of Watching Her Son Slide into Autism After Vaccine…and She Wants Her Son Back – Gaia Health: http://therefusers.com/refusers-newsroom/a-mother’s-description-of-watching-her-son-slide-into-autism-after-vaccine…and-she-wants-her-son-back-gaia-health/#.VANlsvldX3s -Aydan's Road to Recovery: http://aydansrecovery.blogspot.com/ -Hear This Well: VACCINES DO CAUSE AUTISM: http://vaxtruth.org/2014/09/hear-this-well-vaccines-do-cause-autism/ -CDC Whistleblower Audio With Brian Hooker, Ph.D.: http://sgtreport.com/2014/08/cdc-whistleblower-audio-with-brian-hooker-ph-d/ Truther Talk: http://truthertalk.com/
Saturday, November 29, 2014
As a mother of 3, you could say I have some experience giving birth. Each one was their own unique experience and I mean that sincerely, not in a new agey 'you're a unique snowflake' sort of way. The first two were done the birthing in America fashion by which I mean the OB/GYN, pee on stick, step on the scale and cry.. My oldest son, now 11 was pretty much a standard pregnancy. Being my first I didn't know what to expect, so I read 'the book'.. yes that one, 'What to Expect, When You're Expecting.' You might say it was my bible at the time. I read it cover to cover, several times.. I can't remember if the book talks about midwives, I'm sure it did but that wasn't an option available to me, as when you birth in America, you realize quickly that you're not in charge of how you give birth; the insurance companies determine that and whether it be private or government instituted, THEY are in control.. not YOU! So I went to the insurance covered in network provider. I cried each time they put me on the scale, they told me I was too fat and gave me the following nutrition advice, 'don't drink juice anymore..' that's it. They sent me to do the ultrasound where I got the first picture of the baby and learned the sex, even though I didn't want to know. They injected me with needles that drew my blood and tested for things, most of which I never learned what or why, they had me strip down naked, where a paper dress and lie on a bed with my feet in stirrups, so that my vagina was as wide open and exposed as possible to make it easier for them to insert a hard cold metal object inside me. This allowed them to poke their fingers around the inside of my uterus.. shockingly.. even before I was pregnant I never enjoyed this practice, the doctors would always tell me I was 'too sensitive'. Yeah.. it's ME After I was about 3 days past my due date, they told me to plan an induction of labor. When I told them about how 'the book'... my bible said that induction wasn't necessary at this point they complied but unwillingly and sent me to receive more ultrasounds.. I was stressed.. I cried more... they had set up an induction on Friday that I declined and ultrasound on Monday which I accepted and later that evening, I went into labor.. NATURALLY.. my water broke in my bed the following morning. I know it's hard to believe but babies were born prior to the invention of pitocin (the serum used to induce labor in case you didn't know) and my son, Avery was one of those babies. I went to the hospital, had an epidural, delivered without complication, he was placed into a plastic bassinet with bright lights and strangers cleaning, examining, poking, prodding and eventually cutting of the tip of his winky. This is considered a 'normal'.. 'successful' even, birth in America.. How can that be, you ask? And how do I know? Because it gets worse.. much much worse, as I would find out the second time around. Two years after my oldest son was born, I would have another son. I went to the same in network provider, had pretty much the same experience except one of the doctors at the practice was no longer there, so the wait at the office went from about an hour to upwards of 2 hours per visit. I gained a little more weight the second time around, even though I was considered fat the first time, the second time was even worse. I wasn't offered any nutrition advice, though they tested me for diabetes twice, both times were negative. I never had an abnormal pap smear, I never had high blood pressure, aside from a little low iron, I had a normal, healthy pregnancy.. other than my unexplained fatness which would cause a panic throughout the office by about month 8 or 9.. In all honesty, I didn't gain that much weight but the size of my uterus was apparently an inch or so larger than it was supposed to be.. according to them. The solution to this problem was to induce labor, once again, even before my expected due date. I reminded the doctor of the 'book's' word and that it was not medically necessary at this time to do so, his response and I quote 'There's nothing worse than giving birth to a DEAD baby..' Honest to God that's what he said. I left the office that day a nervous wreck, crying uncontrollably while driving myself home. The doctor's solution was the same as before.. more ultrasounds.. of which I would end up having about 5-6, as opposed to the 2-3 the first time around. Each visit would require about a 2 hour wait in the office, often with my then 2 year old son in tow.. yeah.. fun! About 3 days after my due date, the doctor asked me to reconsider the induction.. I did and went to the hospital for a planned birth. The nurse examined me with the fun cold metal object and stuck her hand way up my uterus where she would declare that the baby had 'not dropped..' meaning that the baby hadn't dropped to my cervix yet. 'Why would the doctor plan an induction, when the baby hadn't dropped?' She would ask me.. I had no answer. Later she would ask the same of my doctor, declaring 'She's sky high!' Without looking at me or anyone in the room, he would quickly glance at my chart, hand it back to the nurse and state 'high blood pressure', as he walked out the room and down the hall. The nurse chasing the doctor down the hall with my chart in hand, I could hear screaming, 'there's no high blood pressure.. her blood pressure is fine..' Mind you at this point the nurse had already followed doctor's orders and hooked me up to an IV that delivered the pitocin causing me to go into full blown labor with contracting and all. A few minutes later in the middle of a contraction, the nurse would walk into the room and say the doctor ordered to stop the induction. She unhooked the IV, propped me up and sent me home. I would continue to have active contractions for the next several hours. It didn't feel good. By this time my mom was visiting, as I was supposed to have an induced labor and she would be around to help but there was no baby delivered yet. She watched my 2 year old while my husband and I went to do the next ordered ultra-sound. The ultra-sound tech or doctor or whatever he was, brought us into his office. He said, 'you're baby is around 10 pounds, you're too small to deliver it, you should have a C-section..' I was horribly terrified as I had read in "the book" about the unnecessary numbers of C-sections done in this country, of the complications and that any future children would all have to be delivered via C-section. I was certainly thinking I wanted more children and did not wish to have this surgery every time. My husband would calmly nod his head and turn to the ultra-sound dude (I believe that was his official title) and ask the following question, 'If she were your wife..' 'I don't have a wife', he interjected.. 'Okay, if she were your sister.. what would you advise her to do?' my husband continued.. 'If this were my sister, I would advise her to have the baby vaginally', WHAT? Then what the fuck, ultra-sound dude? Why? Why did you just tell me to have a C-section?? I came home from that visit in shambles, I went into the shower and suddenly had a feeling of panic. The baby in my uterus which had always been very active was not moving.. In my gut I felt the ultra-sounds were harmful but in my fear I proceeded with doctor's orders. I had no indication that this might be the case, 'the book' said they were safe.. I had asked these questions the first time around, 'were these things safe?' No one.. except maybe my husband, who seemed to be mistrusting of all medical procedures would say they might not be.. He then told me about the whales. Large sea mammals would beach themselves on shore and die when the navy conducted sonar testing in the ocean.. Sonar meaning sound.. ultrasounds?! Sound waves could kill a whale under water.. hmm.. I came out the shower not thinking of the whales but my own baby. He wasn't kicking.. 'he's different, he's not the same..' I said, crying in fear.. My mom and husband would come to console me with worried looks upon their faces. The baby kicked and my worries began to subside... sort of.. In the back of my mind I would always ponder.. should I have left the office during those 2 hour visits.. were so many ultra-sounds necessary.. what did they tell us anyway.. These questions were never spoken by me at the time and would eventually leave my head.. That is for several years, when they did in fact return. The next bit of advice from I don't remember who, was to go on a long walk... So my husband, my 2 year old, my mother and I, all went to the LA Zoo where we spent hours walking.. It was a nice spring day in April. The next day I was to go back to the hospital and try to induce labor again but a funny thing began to happen on the way to the hospital.. I started having contractions.. on my OWN! No pitocin, just a walk in the zoo and the baby was coming. We checked in, which was another long wait.. Then a very old man with a wheel chair pulled up. He was to take me to the deliver room.. We got into an elevator and went to one of the floors, it wasn't the right floor.. he looked confused. My husband said, "I know where to go, just let me take her.." "No, we can't do that.." said the old guy, "..it's against hospital policy.." In circles we went until about 30 minutes later we found the right floor and were directed to the right room.. the old guy had said that the building was being remodeled and he was confused.. yeah, we noticed. In the delivery room, I was put into another paper dress, where I would lie down on a bed with my feet in stirrups, more examinations by the nurse, another IV with a deliver of pitocin.. why more pitocin, given that I was already in active labor? To speed up the process of course.. The process was sped, I was about 9 cm dilated.. The anesthesiologist came in to deliver the epidural. He had me sit up as he attempted to give me a spinal tap.. In active labor and excruciating pain, I would attempt to sit still for over an hour.. 'I have a strange spine', he would say.. Again.. I'm defective.. It's never a failure of the system, incompetence or an unnecessary procedures.. no.. it's always YOU.. or in this case.. ME! After a little over an hour and several stabs into my back (I think we counted 20 or so by the marks left behind), I said 'no.. I'm done...' I sent the anesthesiologist away and decided to do it without pain killers. The nurse felt for me and gave me a little codeine for the pain and a little valium for the stress (I think, I can't fully remember, she gave me something). Then the doctor finally enters the room, he walks over to me without a word, without a look, without an anything and as if he is Moses himself, parting the Red Sea, he sticks his hand up my vagina and breaks my water.. he then leaves the room. I look to my husband and ask, 'did he just break my water?' 'Yes' and that was it for the next several hours. The nurse and my husband would act as the birthing coaches until the last crucial minutes when the doctor, whom I lovingly now refer to as 'Dr. GodComplex' would re-enter to instruct me what to do.. I don't remember what he said.. My husband would try to assist to which Dr. GodComplex would instruct him to 'shut up or he'd be kicked out of the room'. Eventually the nurse would come around to whisper in my ear, 'push really hard.. a C-section requires a spinal tap and you don't want to have to go through that again..' Oh yeah.. the anesthesiologist.. the 20 holes in back.. NO.. I certainly didn't and I pushed... pushed and pushed more until that 9 pound 9 ounce big boy finally emerged. I was exhausted! They took him from me immediately and did the plastic bassinet with the lights and the strangers and the eventual clip of the winky.. I was sent to the recovery room to sleep. When I awoke there was no one there.. My mom was back at the house with the two year old, I didn't know where my husband was and there was no baby. I called the nurse to find out what was going on.. 'let me find out..' Around the clock different nurses would enter the room. In an increasing panic, I would ask where the baby was.. 'let me find out..' I could barely walk, so running down the hall was not an option.. all I could do was keep calling.. Eventually, 6 hours later, the nurse would emerge with baby in tow.. 'we pricked his foot and his blood sugar was low, so we gave him some formula,' she tells me.. 'But I instructed no formula, as I'm planning to breastfeed,' I answer back to which I receive no reply... 'Well I guess if you had to...' I continued a little disappointed to not be my son's first feeding experience but I'd manage, it would be okay.. The next day everyone was there.. In laws, mother, 2 year old and husband.. I would tell the story about the 6 hour wait and the formula. My husband looking over my medical chart turns to me with a confused look, 'it doesn't say his blood sugar is low..' No? What does it say? 'It says they couldn't find YOU..' Oh right.. remember the old guy who didn't know where to go because the building had been remodeled? '..they couldn't find you, so they gave the baby formula because he was hungry..' Angry my husband continues.. 'if you can't breastfeed him, it will be their fault..' Nervous but not too nervous, as I had just come off of a successful breastfeeding run for the past two years.. I could do it again, I thought and I did.. We did! He had a little trouble latching on the first few days but the milk came in and we managed to recover from our birthing in America experience.. Later after the vaccines took my son, Aydan, my second born, into a world called autism, I would think back to these early memories. The mainstream and even alternative medicine world will claim 'its a combination of genetics and environment, that cause autism'.. Hmm.. saying vaccine induced autism is a combination of genetics and environment is a bit like saying the fall-out victims at Chernobyl who got cancer were 'genetically pre-disposed to cancer'.. I mean not everyone exposed to fall-out got cancer... right? (If you don't understand that comment than you haven't looked into vaccines, I suggest you do that now). So these constant misleading and often ridiculous arguments about genetics would leave me feeling numb.. it's always YOU.. and in this case ME.. Which of course it was me but not my faulty genetics. It was me that felt in my ignorance and fear to forgo my internal instinct to put trust.. or not trust even, more like compliance into a system that did not, would not and will not care about me.. or my son... A system that does not respect or even understand, the life saving, natural, birthing and bonding process... A system comprised of a band of rapist who will tell you, you are 'too sensitive' when you find your rape disagreeable.. A system that will brand your child with a serial number on your way out the door, as they have you sign a piece of paper agreeing to pay whatever amount of the $10,000 - $30,000 hospital bill your insurance does not pay.. I mean, how can you put a price on a 'complication free' birth, right? Oh and don't worry, you'll be able to write it off on your taxes... And that, my friends... is Birthing in America!
-Are Ultrasounds Causing Autism: http://www.thedailybeast.com/witw/articles/2013/04/29/are-ultrasounds-causing-autism-in-unborn-babies.html -Autism and Induced Labor: http://www.sciencebasedmedicine.org/autism-and-induced-labor/ -Harm and Physical Effect of Circumcision: http://www.circinfo.org/Warren.html -There are now a multitude of studies that show that mothers and babies should be together, skin to skin (baby naked, not wrapped in a blanket) immediately after birth, as well as later: http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&id=82:the-importance-of-skin-to-skin-contact-&Itemid=17
Saturday, June 29, 2013
So.. I've been writing a long time. I don't keep it that clinical nor do I claim to have answers to anything... more questions and more trying and wanting, waiting, willing... and faith of course! This is a post about the things that I like... No biggie, just a little of this and a little of that... Please feel free to read and enjoy!!! 8) Water: The first filter we bought was a reverse osmosis hook up to our sink, it took forever to install and when we got it in the water came out a snail's pace.. I immediately returned it in exchange for a Berkey and I'm glad. It removes all the stuff other filters do, plus you can add a filter that rids arsenic and fluoride. It tastes soft and clean.. the filters last a good long time and they don't require electricity or any hook up. You just pour the water from your faucet into the system and voila.. clean drinking water. I quickly taught my son Aydan, how to get a glass and pour himself a cup, instead of dipping his head over the faucet like he used to do... oy vey... But aside from drinking water.. water is just grand. It's important to get out into nature as I previously mentioned but something about water, the message, the memory, the feeling, the sensory sensation that heals... it's not ideal to go into a chlorinated swimming pool and I'm probably gonna get some flack for saying this but if you are stuck in the city on a hot day and can't get out, jump in the pool. There is something about water, especially for my son Aydan that makes him feel right with himself. I tried for years to teach my son how to swim.. 'do this Aydan, arm over head.. etc etc..' he would get so excited in the water he never paid me one bit of mind during my, 'do this..' attempt. One day though, he jumped into the 8 feet and popped back up and swam across the pool. He taught himself. It isn't pretty but he gets across without drowning and that's huge.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
We've been doing bio-medical intervention with my boy, Aydan since the beginning. Upon learning of his autism diagnosis, I never hesitated to consider it. People will often ask me "..yeah but does that stuff work?" My answer is something like this, "switching from Wonder bread to organic gluten, yeast free Food for Life bread will hurt nothing but your pocket book.. and don't you function better when you're healthy?" I'm very open to exploring the options of bio-medical interventions but there are a lot of snake oil salesmans out there, so I research quite a bit. The main thing I look for is that it be established, logical and safe.. AND if it's not approved by the FDA.. that's even better. If it is potentially harmful or seemingly ridiculous, we move onto the next thing... There's no shortage of new things to try.. try.. and try again.. The only problem is, it's pretty much NEVER within our family's means. The high costs of organic, gluten free, soy free, egg free, dairy free, uncured, dye-free, all natural, sans pesticides, sans GMO, sans money to pay for it.. Get my drift? And the other hard part is.. it isn't a cure. It's not! I've heard stories of non-verbal children talking within 3 days after beginning a Gluten free, Casein free diet but I have also heard of people who win the lottery... I have NEVER met any of these people. I have NEVER met someone who cured or recovered their child's autism with one simple thing. It is always a myriad of therapies.. generally both traditional and non.. done over several years and we have done a lot of them over the past 4. I won't say all by a long shot but A LOT.. What.. you might ask? Oy vey.. Here she blows.. DAN protocol, chelation therapy, gluthathione, DMSA, Vitamin Therapy (list way too long), AIT (Auditory Integration Training), RDI (Relationship Development Intervention), ABA (Applied Behavioral Analysis), DIR (Floortime), Hanen Language program, Speech therapy, Occupational Therapy, Physical therapy, Special Day school, Intensive autism class, (we've had to sue the school incurring immense legal fees to get many of these by the way).. Uhm.. where was I? Oh.. right.. Vision therapy, Music Therapy, Hippo (horse) therapy, Mastgotova, Quigong Sensory Training, Chiropractics, HANDLE, CEASE therapy, Miller Method.. Am I forgetting anything? Oh yeah.. the diet, SCD (Specific Carbohydrate Diet), GF/CF/SY (Gluten, Casein/dairy, Soy free), Candida diet.. Oh that's right.. also Anti-fungal treatment.. wait I may not be finished with the diet stuff but I haven't a lifetime to write this essay so let's move on. Anti-fungals? Yes.. let's talk about yeast, Extreme high dose pro-biotics, fermented foods, garlic, oil of oregano.. Uhm... other stuff.. And then LOTS of other stuff and at one point I think we did Nystatin and Difulcan until we just kept it au naturale. What am I forgetting? B-12 injections? Yeah, those too. So whatever.. I'm exhausted. Some of it has made some positive changes, some of it we couldn't afford long enough to tell, and some others will have to try again.. But there's never a shortage of recovery stories and as long as there out there, I have the energy to try again.. Not necessarily the money.. and not necessarily the energy either to be honest but I do it anyway. To answer the question once again, does any of it work? Well, yes some works for some.. and we'll keep looking until we find that some. I definitely want some.. don't we all? So what's this essay about? Right.. Biofilm protocol. Our DAN performs the Biofilm Protocol as follows: The following supplements should be rotated every 3-4 weeks. Start with the Microbial Maintenance. - Microbial Maintenance Plus Artemisinin capsules: 2 capsules daily, may take 1 capsule twice daily $71.20 - NutriBiotic GSE (Grapefruit Seed Extract Liquid): 1-6 drops by mouth once to twice daily (best tolerated when taken in water or juice). $9.99 - Biocidin soft gels: start with 1 soft gel daily and increase to 2 soft gel daily as tolerated. $48.95 - Pharmax Caprylate Complex: 1 capsule 3 times daily $18.54 So those little numbers after the words are monies.. monies we don't have because of everything else. Can't I get a job? I wish.. God please don't strike me down for being ungrateful. I'm not ungrateful.. I'm really not.. I just need more money. God you never told me life was so expensive. How do people live off the grid with no money these days? Does that still exist? If so, please write me and tell me how as I'm desperately looking for a way out of this mess. Until then.. if you could please help (if you can), we would be very appreciative and God will hold a seat for you in heaven.. I can't confirm that but let's hope, right? We are raising funds for Aydan's Bio-film Protocol!
Saturday, June 16, 2012
I have come to realize that I am living in denial.. maybe. I accept.. I accept that life isn't fair.. Well, no I don't! I want to.. Well, no I don't! I want it to be fair.. It isn't! I understand it isn't fair but to understand, is not the same as acceptance. Life?? If it is not fair, then what is it?? For me, it is painful, it is difficult, it is challenging, it is full of love and joy. It isn't hard to find traits within my son to love... his face, his smile, his dimple, his laugh, his hug, his touch, his eyes when they are fixed on mine, the look of anticipation when I'm about to read the part in Where The Wild Things Are when the wild things ROAR their terrible roars.. his being.. his soul is the very light and energy that love itself revolves around. He held this light before his vaccine injury and since it has remained. So why am I not satisfied? But I am.. I am satisifed with the light.. the being.. the soul.. but I want more. I want the person.. the TRUE person within to emerge. Who are you Aydan? What do you like.. what do you see.. why does the grass feel good (or seem to feel good) on your bare feet? What is in your heart? Who are you? I have never entertained the notion of perfection. If I had a perfect child, why would he want me as a mother? I resent the notion that by wanting to know my son.. wanting him for who he is.. who he is really.. who he was before vaccines.. who he was meant to be... is an effort to make a robo-Aydan. As if I wouldn't be completely happy with a nerd, geek, pierced Emo.. I could care less about perfect or normal or whatever societal idea of perfect is.. and I know what you're thinking.. but no.. this isn't denial. So, how am I in denial? I deny that this maybe the way things will always be. I deny that he may always need someone to help him, I deny that he may never have a friend.. I denied it at age 3, because "he was only 3".. I denied it at age 4 because "he was only 4".. I denied it at age 5, because "he was only 5"... Age 6... Age 7... Age 16? I deny that I will die.. I deny that I will leave this world without knowing he's taken care of.. I deny I will leave this world without knowing he's free from this prison, in which he lives.. I deny son, that when I'm gone there will be no one on this Earth to value you.. as I do! Tell me son.. What do you like? What do you want? Who do you want to be when you grow up? What does your voice sound like? How does a lemon smell to you? Will I ever know? Will I remain in denial, that I may not? Can I accept that? Will I? If I say "yes", does that seal your fate? If I say "no" does that mean I cling to tight? I've heard stories in my life of couples with grave difficulty conceiving a child.. for years they try.. they long.. they prayer... spend thousands, sometimes millions of dollars in hopes that they will bare a child. Then one day, they accept they will not.. they weep, they move on.. they decide to adopt and... poof... they are pregnant. How does that happen? Will I ever let go without a hidden agenda that like the couple... poof.. you will come back to me? Today.. Aydan.. you are 7.. someday son, you will be 16 but today you are 7 and we have work to do! This week in autism recovery looks like this: 1. Call the lawyer to get status on due process case with school 2. Continue with CEASE therapy, order remedies for new clears 3. Daily Aloe, Zinc, Vitamin C, Omegas, Whole food supplements 4. Order the Urine Toxic Elements Test 5. Massage on Wednesdays and Sundays 6. Epsom Salt bath nightly 7. No more eating with fingers 8. Resume walking everyday, preferably nature hikes 9. PRAYER Prayer.. I prayer for you.. I prayer for us.. I ask the God within us both to have the strength to rise to whatever this violent, unfair, joyous life has in store for us.. I cannot deny.. I cannot let go.. Is that denial a false sense of hope? Is that asking too much? Forget it.. forget it!! I want it.. I want you Aydan.. I want to know you.. I wanted it when you were in my belly.. I wanted it when the vaccine took you away.. I wanted it at 3.. I want it at 7.. and I imagine I will want it at 16.. at 65.. that is if you have not returned to me yet.. cause afterall, I'm not dying. This essay is also published on April’s blog at http://aydansrecovery.blogspot.com/, where she’s trying to raise $85 to pay for Aydan’s Urine Toxic Elements test. She are following up on chelation therapy to remove toxins safely. Any help is much appreciated—including prayers." http://gaia-health.com/gaia-blog/2012-06-19/is-it-denial-to-want-to-know-the-real-child-hidden-inside-an-autism-afflicted-body/
Friday, May 4, 2012
I'm in the grocery store a couple days ago and my autistic son, Aydan now 7 years old is out of control. He's running up and down the aisles, pounding his hands all over the bread and runs up to a strange man who he pushes from behind. The man turns around as most people do when this happens with a look of disgust.. first at Aydan, then at me.. 'horrible mother.. that you are.. you should be ashamed..' all over their faces. Coming in at 62 pounds and 4'9", I am forced to put Aydan in the grocery cart, like a toddler in order to finish the shopping. As we're walking through another aisle, there is a child around 3 years old, also sitting in a cart filled with the average American diet.. processed cheese, Lucky Charms cereal.. She looks at me with full eye contact, a beautiful smile and says with perfect articulation, "hi.. how are you?", I respond, "fine, how are you?" Then she addresses Aydan, "how are you?" Aydan has no response, I ask Aydan if he would please say "hi" to the little girl, he responds... "ba..". See "ba.." is one of the only sounds he can utter... "ba" means whatever you want it to mean. It could be.. hi, bye, mommy.. whenever he is asked to speak.. he says "ba.." sometimes he says "pa.." sometimes he says "bye bye.." but that's about it. A couple weeks earlier the service coordinator from the Regional Center that provides in home therapy for Aydan's disability is in our home for an annual review. He decides this person is not welcome in our home.. he pinches her and when asked to stop begins to throw strawberries at her.. I guess it was a well communicated desire, be it unacceptable but understood nevertheless. Case worker says, clearly he's not improving very much and needs a new, more intensive intervention perhaps.. okay.. "What level is he?" she asks. "What do you mean, level?" I reply. "In school.. what level is he in school?" Oh.. "he's in the first grade." "No.. I mean what's his level?" "He functions at the level of a 2 year old, does that answer your question?" There is no level. "Oh.." is the only thing she can think to say. When Aydan was first diagnosed I used to love hearing stories of autism recovery. It would sit in my memory file under "something to try." This child recovered using this.. file that one under "reinvestigate in a year"... this child recovered using that... file under "too expensive but in desperation reconsider".. a child recovered from this after being very severe, file under "do whatever you can to get that started immediately." Today.. 4 1/2 years later, little has changed except for Aydan's age and size. I now have a very different feeling when I hear those stories, something along the lines of what you might think when you hear about someone who won the trillion dollar lottery. You aren't mad at the person, you don't want to take it away from them but you maybe disconnected from it, as if it's something that only happens to other people.. you might even wonder why that is. I get a lot of advice.. people tell me to try this or that or the other.. usually it's already been tried.. sometimes it hasn't.. sometimes it's helpful.. sometimes I can't afford it.. sometimes it's unrealistic.. and on and on... There's never a shortage of things to keep in the memory file. You see, it isn't that I want to take the lottery winnings away from someone else.. it isn't that I wish I had a trillion dollars.. it isn't that I want the little girl at the grocery store to say only "ba.." but it would be nice if when asked I could say, "yes, Aydan's at this level.." "Well, he's in the first grade but just started to draw.. or color.. or hold a fuckin' pencil.." It's that I want a LEVEL! It isn't pretty and maybe I'm bitter and maybe I'm a hater and maybe I don't deserve it but it's what I want and I can no longer fake it. I can't pretend that I don't want to hear the stories.. I WANT A FUCKIN' CURE!! Where's the cure? Don't tell me, it' isn't going to be easy.. I ALREADY KNOW IT ISN'T EASY!! Does anyone think this has been easy? Oh.. I know, I'm blessed.. because it could've been this or that.. but this wasn't divine intervention, it wasn't God's way, it wasn't random and chance.. it was a vial of poison injected into my toddler son... and that is where he has stayed... THAT is his level. Do I sound hateful or angry or bitter?? I'm not proud of feeling this way.. I'm not proud that I no longer want to be around my friends with kids because even my friends with autistic children have managed to reach some level of recovery... it hasn't been easy for them.. I know. I know they've earned and struggled and fought tooth and nail.. but so have we. I feel at some point this is no longer acceptable to talk about.. at what point do I go from being sympathetic to annoying to just plain "get over yourself". I don't know.. maybe I'm already there. I once wrote this monologue in college about a person who has a nervous break down while sitting in a traffic jam. She described being in a hot car with no air coniditioner, no radio, broken windows.. all she could see was cars.. cars on top of cars on top of cars on top of cars on top cars... as her voice lifted she began to shout "and I am liKE THE CARS.. NOT MOVING.. NOT GOING.. NOTHING BUT CARS ON TOP OF CARS ON TOP OF CARS..." Now imagine you have been sitting in that car for nearly 5 years. Do you still want to judge me for being bitter? And please don't think I'm giving up.. I don't want to give up.. I would never give up.. is that really even an option? How does one even consider that in this situation? Give up how? Go where? Leave it all behind and live in Parisian commune? Does that even exist? No.. of course that isn't what's happening here. I will always reach back into the memory files and say "what about this?" But I can't help but to think every now and then about these past 5 years and feel pain for their loss. I keep praying and hoping and plotting and deciding and working my ass off.. to get out of this hot car and it will always be that way.. that is.. until.. we finally get out. Wouldn't you do the same?