Happy one year anniversary to my blog! Today's post is dedicated to my parents.I got to talk to my parents a few days ago. I love it when we can chat. It is rare to get a full conversation in when all my kids are home, but twice this week, I've been able to talk to my Mom and Dad.
While on the phone we talked about all sorts of things - the kids, school, the upcoming holidays, and Ronan's health. Those are "the usual" topics we try to catch up on in phone calls, but we talked about something else this week: the fact that what happened to Ronan helped save his little sister's life.
Izzy brings that up every now and then. She remembers that fact usually after Ronan's had a major struggle. When the struggle is over and Ronan is okay again, Izzy looks at her big brother longingly. Some days when I see her staring at him, I know not to interrupt. I know that she's worried. I can see that she's sad. I understand that she wishes that things could be different for him. But I don't cloud her thoughts with my input, and I wait for her to come to me. She comes to me for comfort and for a big hug.
Ronan saved his little sisters. He didn't volunteer to do it. He didn't get any reward for his heroism. And he went through hell to do it, and Izzy realized that a few years ago:
“Seizures? Mommy, why? Why does he have to have seizures?”
I gave her the G-rated version of what happened to Ronan because I didn’t want to fill her head with too much doom and gloom. She’s heard so much medical talk about Ronan in the past, but I didn’t know how much she truly understood about the science behind Ronan’s problems. Since she’s the kid sister and arrived into the family after Ronan’s vaccine injury she has only known his signs, symptoms and the talk of seizures, mito disease, blood work and more. To her this part of his life is his “normal.” She missed seeing first-hand what happened, [and how typical he was before he got sick] but I didn’t give her enough credit. Izzy understood the explanation I gave about Ronan, his brain, the seizures and examples of what his body can’t do. She looked at me and said, “So, Ronan got his shots, then he got seizures and now he can’t talk and play like me.”
Because of what we learned about Ronan's health and how vaccines caused him more harm than good, and because they also negatively affected Ronan's younger brother, we knew to be carefully when it was time to consider medical interventions we would be offered when Izzy was born. Her health depended on it!
When she arrived, we were armed with much more information and were confident about accepting (or declining) what others deemed standard medical care and safe and effective than we had been with her older siblings.
Izzy knows this now as do our other children. None of them likes that we had to learn the hard way, me included. My parents don't like what we've gone through either. They understand that this hasn't been easy for any of us and are supportive of what I've had to do to protect my children. I hear their support in the conversations that we have over the phone and see the love they have for all of my kids when they visit us.
It's no surprise with all that's happened that my children are mini-activist and advocates in the making, Izzy being one of the best in the bunch. She is one of the biggest blessings in Ronan's life (and mine, too!). Just last night as we were getting settled for bed, I was helping Ronan finish up on some exercises. Izzy saw me setting some things up and was curious what I was doing. She asked if she could watch Ronan. I told her better than that, she could be my assistant. She quickly jumped right in.
I showed her the material we'd be using and then walked her through what we were doing and why. It wasn't easy for her, but the commitment Izzy has for her brother helped her stay focused. Ronan liked the extra attention and tried to get some belly zerberts from little sister before he was done. With a giggle and gentle redirection, as we do with other tasks, Izzy and I finished helping Ronan with his exercises as a team.
If you'd asked me to predict what my children would be exposed to before I had kids, I would never expect that my children would have seen or heard or experienced a fraction of what they have seen, heard and experienced. No child should be subjected to the struggles, the stress, nor the sadness that they have. But it's through those struggles, stresses, and sadness that has shaped them into who they are right now.
They are hard working.
They are passionate.
They are kind, considerate, amazing little humans.
And they have been saved from further harm because of what happened to their brother.