A Life Without Vaccine Injury 

A childhood to explore the world. To express their curiosities. To pretend and play.

An adulthood to contribute. To find their way. For us to learn to slowly let go from the moment they are born. Our lives are not forever their lives.

Except with these things are lost and their lives are dependent upon ours.

My immediate family has been lucky that so far only my children’s childhoods were stolen from them. Every day I have to tell myself to forgive for what I did not know. The grieving is deep and the sorrow is real. After 5 years we are barely on our feet, but we are getting there. The guilt that things could have been different had I researched keeps coming up for me to heal over and over again. I feel it as a lump in my throat and I suppress it until night falls. This is not only not the life I hoped for my children but I’m sure it’s not the life my mom dreamt for me.

However, now, I look back and see how everything lined up in a magical sort of way so that I could contribute to the world in more ways than I ever dreamed possible. That is my one and only comfort in what we have lost. That is how I soothe my broken heart.

We yearn for our children to find their way, to create the life that makes them happy, that they are treated well, and are healthy. We hope they have children if that is what they want. That they can follow their curiosities along the way. We want the very best for them. It is what we think about from the moment we know they exist. It’s what we dream of when we think of becoming parents.

We birth them or adopt them and take them in as our very own. We take them to a pediatrician so that we can ensure optimal health. We put our trust in the doctors we have chosen. We don’t know that perhaps they don’t even know the full truth about some very fundamental things. We don’t even know there is another way.
We follow the vaccine schedule because we want the very best.

Every victim is different. Some have noticeable injuries as soon as the vaccine hits. Others slowly regress. First it takes their health and then their development. Or anything in between.

The crying starts. Or the shaking. Or the deafening silence.

This isn’t what we ever imagined it could be. And we feel alone. No village around us to scoop us up and help our families in times of desperate need.

No… instead, we are told we are wrong. Our child is fine or was born this way. Neither of which we know are true.

Come to my home, I tell you. See and FEEL the nightmare I could not stop.

We take them back to the pediatrician. Help us, please. No one is there to answer our cries for help. No one can give us answers. They treat symptoms separately if at all. Eye doctor, ear/nose/throat doctor, gastroenterologist, psychologist.

Meanwhile at home, we are drowning. Our marriages are falling apart under the stress. No human being should have to endure this. Watching our children suffer. No child should have to cry out in pain. No child should have to be so overwhelmed by the breath of life itself.

We did our due diligence, we thought. Instead we are ridiculed and mocked. They think we are naive. They think we know nothing. They have no idea how much we know because they have doubted the cord between parent & child.

They have separated us all to make it look like we are few and far between. How could they not see these symptoms were connected all along?

And then they try to force us to do the very thing that harmed our children in the first place. The very thing that made life a living hell. The  so called medicine that made our children sick or took their lives.

Can you imagine? Waking up to your baby gone, the next one they try to take too.

We will not have it. We will not let them take our children any longer.

We will not let them take our voices.

We will not let them take our rights.

To all the children that have sacrificed their dreams, their bodies, their health, and well-being.

To all the parents who have endured, fought, and took back what health they could find.

To all the siblings who watch, who wake up for the next generation, who suffer along side.

I am sorry… and Thank you.

We will win. There is no other choice. This is not something that can go on any longer. The bough is breaking and there is no one to catch their lies.

To the family and friends who doubted us: we tried to warn you and we will keep trying to inform you. We tried to call out for help and wish you heard. We tried to speak the truth but all you heard was facts you couldn’t understand because they have been banned.

To strangers who stare. Remember there is a story here. The meltdown at the store, the parent with tired eyes that hold more wisdom than we let on. The screams, the cries. We are doing our very best. We have been lied to, this is not our fault and it is not our children’s fault. Judgement has no place here.

To the doctors. Most of you, I know… if you knew what you did, the guilt would keep you up at night. I beg you to forgive yourself and to research this. Save the next family. I wish you had known… and if you did, how dare you. This is my child and my choice. Don’t doubt me, I know best. It doesn’t take a medical degree to see my children are suffering. Do you want to come into my home and see the evidence and broken hearts that just keep going and going?

All of you who do not understand, read the facts, the history, the vaccine inserts. For we used to believe in it too. That is why we are not anti-vaccine but vaccine-regret parents with dreams that may never come true.


By Kiera Leatherman