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Note: The following story is a
couple of years old now, but its
inspirational message is timeless.
By
Gina Laverde My
son will be four in 13 days. And,
two years ago, our own friends and
family doubted he’d survive his many
health challenges with so little
scarring. He is Dougie. He is
emerging through what the world is
calling “autism.” And, he is by far
the STRONGEST person I know. The
newborn Dougie was every parent’s
dream. After a complicated pregnancy
disrupted by a mis-diagnosed
miscarriage, placenta previa, early
contractions and dilation, candida
skin eruptions, and ignorant remarks
from a group of non supporters – I
was blessed to have a healthy happy
baby boy. I stared at him sleeping
for the first three hours of his
life. In
order to ensure that our boy’s
health remained vibrant, his daddy
and I employed the city’s most
expensive pediatrician. I’m talking
about one who charged $700 for a
well visit with immunizations (after
insurance, of course). Oh, how my
heart sank when we couldn’t afford
two of the recommended shots
according to the recommended
schedule! But,
our baby was sleeping through the
night in his swing, sleeping through
trips to the movies, friends’
parties, and car rides. The kid
slept so much, my husband and I
brought him on dates. My expensive
pediatrician assured me, on one of
our midnight-worry-calls, that all
of this sleeping was a gift, and
that I should revel in it. And, so I
did. And,
when my dermatologist told me that
the white rashes Dougie was getting
were a direct reflection to the
hormones in my breast milk — and
that my baby was in fact suffering
from ACNE, I weaned Dougie from
mother’s milk. Colic began with
dairy-based formula, but I never
made the connection. Our E.P.
(expensive pediatrician) assured me
that the brand we selected was
sooooo close to breast milk, and
that I made the right choice. I
didn’t want to poison my kid with my
ruined milk, so I traded my happy
sleeper for a rash-less night crier. By
the time he was ready for food he
was in love with spinach, squash and
bananas. We chose almond and rice
milks over dairy and his tummy
issues subsided. But, I regrettably
kept him on formula for 14 months,
because the E.P. made a case for the
“unrivaled” calcium source. He was
pooping about seven times a day, but
at this point I knew nothing of the
problem that symbolized. I
became more confident in my mommy
skills as Dougie learned to walk,
talk and ask for things he wanted. I
knew that I wasn’t eating dairy
myself. And I knew he didn’t need it
either. We filled him with wholesome
home cooked and raw organic foods.
We made sure we chose quality food
sources of fats, protein, and other
essential nutrients. He craved
bananas. We made sure that he never
got processed foods, candy or
typical un-natural kid food. And,
yeah we experienced many upturned
noses because of this. But the
result was that my 2 year old never
needed prescription meds. And
despite the life-sucking day jobs,
threat of home foreclosure,
disownment by some family members,
and MY chronic ear infections, my
husband and I were overjoyed at
being parents. My
husband, Doug, brought Dougie to get
his next round of shots while I was
at work. I had an eerie feeling
about it, but just couldn’t
determine a good reason not to
vaccinate. I just didn’t fully
understand what we were doing to
Dougie. And, that’s when fever and
flu entered our lives. I put
on my Healer Helmet and got him
better with magic elixirs of
vitamins and herbs. My parents
thought I was nuts. But
before I knew it, I was facing my
own doctor and my own chest x-rays
and blood tests that revealed I
needed to rest. I had pneumonia and
had apparently held it at bay for
months with my natural therapies. My
doctor was disgusted at the bottles
of oil of oregano, colloidal silver
and other goodies I brought to show
him I was taking care of myself. I
still didn’t fully “GET IT.” Soon,
I was being injected with various
antibiotics that made it hard for me
to hold my head up. My mom was
taking care of Dougie. And, Dougie
was in NEED of prescription meds for
the first time in his life. Of
course, the nurse comforted me with
the fact that all kids get sick all
the time, and antibiotics were
simply a part of life. I
felt as though I failed him by not
being there to cook his meals and
make his “get better” tea. He was
placed on 4 back to back rounds of
antibiotics. And from Christmas Eve
through mid January, he regressed
into a dazed state of consciousness.
He lost all of his language and had
no emotional response to pain. He
cried or screamed almost all the
time, and refused to eat anything
but pizza.
Our
financial predicament left us
shacking up in my brother-in-law’s
basement for a few months. God bless
them for not killing me as I
embraced the weirdness of
self-healing. Doug
and I are not those parents who took
our child from doctor to doctor
trying to figure out what happened.
Not only could we not afford it, but
our experience with doctors taught
us that they (at least the ones we
knew of) would not have an answer. I
refused to take the money we could
use for getting better and hand it
over to a doctor, just to hear “I’m
so sorry Mr. and Mrs. McDermott,
your son has autism.” I can’t even
imagine the dread those parents must
feel when being sold the “no way
out” approach to autism. Because we
were broke, we were spared this. We
never got a set of blinders or a
list of therapies to help us cope. I
didn’t want to cope. I wanted to
cure this. But, the autism
battleground had been trudged by
some dedicated people who were far
more educated than me, and none of
them could find a cure. I knew I had
to do it differently. I knew I had
to embrace Dougie’s gifts. I
remember explaining this to a
non-mom girlfriend who reassured me
of the value of early interventions
like psych drugs and speech
therapies. Instead of killing her I
dove inside my computer. One
half hour of research solidified the
Candida question that kept popping
up in my mind. We definitely had it.
I had to cut sugar from our diets. A
few clicks later I found a woman who
lived in my state and had
successfully recovered her son from
autism. I sent her an email and she
called me the next day. She gave me
hope that I could reverse Dougie’s
condition with diet. We talked for 2
hours and she referred me to the
bedrokcommunity.org – who have been
my backbone and best friends through
this journey. I was
now coming to the deeper
understanding of gut health as it
relates to brain function. I
introduced cultured vegetables and
coconut kefir to Dougie’s diet,
using a tablespoon to 4oz each day
for a month – AND WE GOT EYE CONTACT
BACK!! The cultured veggies helped
his taste buds accept greens and
gluten free grains – AND HE STARTED
SAYING “THOMAS THOMAS” after his
favorite train. He was getting
physically stronger too, and so some
more autistic symptoms began to
surface. Dougie hand-flapped, licked
the floor and the walls, toe-walked,
used repetitive language, like
“Thomas, Thomas,” and would smash
his face into the floor or walls. He
was mystified by wheels. But, he was
becoming happier and showing it. He
still wasn’t responding to his name.
His behavior was very hard to handle
for me, as I wanted to see more
results.
Another month passed and I learned
that trusting my gut meant going
back to my spirituality. I prayed
and meditated a lot. One moment I
was blending green sludge for my son
to drink and the next I was
screaming in excitement and horror
over the phone to my mom “I saw bugs
in his poop.” Yeah, bugs. Weird
stuff. And each time Dougie released
something overly nasty in diaper… he
gained more skills. The diet was
working! But not enough for anyone
to believe me. That
hurt. My
mom was so loving and my dad just
kept his mouth shut. But everyone
was whispering behind our backs….
wondering if the boy was getting
enough protein or this or that other
nutrient. And, I realized they were
wearing blinders too. They too were
duped by the “milk does a body good”
mindset . My mom, who slaved over
delicious home-cooked meals every
day of my life, didn’t understand
the gift that good food gives our
bodies. No one understood me like
the moms at the BEDROK community. We
are definitely still learning. We
have embraced our son as a unique
being with very special talents. His
spark shines brighter as we peel
away the layers of damage. We no
longer focus on curing him. He has a
sickness that gets better each day,
but it does not define him.
We
embrace each moment for what it can
teach us. We
study poop, tongues and skin color.
We rely on our instincts, our
research and our friends who are in
the same boat. To date, we have only
done one test to confirm the
presence of heavy metals from
vaccines and environment. My
almost four year old drinks green,
plays air guitar, and is beginning
to read. What more could a mommy ask
for. He IS my dream come true! Source: rawmom.com For updated information and much more, visit Gina at: http://www.blissedlife.com/ See also: ADD misdiagnosis and the ineffectiveness and dangers of commonly prescribed Ritalin New Study Finds that Pesticides Double the Risk of ADHD in Our Children
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