You ever make plans in your head?

I’m talking about life altering plans, carefully constructed to ensure an endpoint of “comfortability”. A plan that you intended to hold on tight to with no disruptions. You tell yourself that you are going to have blinders on and will heartlessly set aside every distraction as they pop up in front of you.

Yeah I made those kind of plans two years ago too. Plans to pull myself out of the hell I was in.

You see… I tried to bypass HIS plan and take my own route on my own timeline.

Boy did that blow up in my face.😳

November 25, 2018.

One year ago, I found myself facing a decision that I only had minutes to make.

I wasn’t “ready” – but let’s be honest, I never would have been.

It was WAY off my personal timeline but I knew in my soul this was HIS way of saying “Girl, it’s time.”

I had two choices- turn my back on what HE had inconveniently aligned or make myself available and walk a road of blind faith.

Sure there have been pockets of complete devastation- the loss of friendships that I will forever cherish in my heart, forced time apart from the miracles I carried inside of me, a bank account that is assuredly negative every month, uncertainty, turmoil and the rollercoaster of navigating a legal system that only inflicts they very trauma you tried to get out of in the first place.

But the provision has been undeniable. I honestly see HIS hand every step of the way – even in the deepest of the trenches. I took that step off the side of the cliff last year, not having a clue how we would make it and here we are a year later.

You see, I had it backwards the entire time I was making my exit plan. I was trying to desperately cling to a grip that I couldn’t maintain because I was supposed to let HIM hold me- not the other way around.

This year has gifted me vision.

I see every little “inconvenient” thing HE sets in front of me and know with certainly that it is NO mistake. I completely understand that if I put those blinders on and forge ahead towards ringing the bell of self-accomplishment that I would undoubtedly miss out on something intended to pour amazing life and love into my soul.

Those opportunities- the ones that feel sooooo off route….those are the ones that HE has Divenly Aligned and Blessed for your greater purpose. They make no sense on our human agenda but I’m telling you if you make yourself available for HIS…. the way HE will hold you- there are no words to adequately describe it but I think you can find the answer in my eyes today.

I’ve been told they are the gateway to our soul 😉

Xoxoxoxo

Yours Through The Insanity,

Colleen

The acoustics inside of my house are typically at a decibel level you wouldn’t want to contend with and the non-stop action will leave your head spinning.

There are so many days I longed for silence. A trip to the bathroom, without someone calling my name. Just 1 minute to sit without being touched or having to get up not even a second later to referee a sibling show down.

They say be careful what you wish for….

Now the house is silent, deafeningly silent, more days than I want to count.  

Continuous music drowns out the almost eerie energy inside of the walls when they aren’t here and I keep myself moving so I don’t collapse in despair.

Today it was unavoidable though. 

I was rushing to cram a million and one things into three hours when I saw the trucks carefully arranged on the dining room table as I was heading upstairs.

A snapshot of life frozen. 

I felt it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I tried so damn hard to fight it.

You are almost 8 months into this, I told myself. 

This is going to be what the long-haul looks like.  

Pull your shit together Colleen.

But I couldn’t.  

There are just some things that time doesn’t really seem to heal. In fact, opposite seems to be reality. The more time that goes by the more I miss.  So many firsts and last are slipping by that I no longer have access to. I’m continuing to grieve the immense loss of everything I had anticipated and prayed for while I laid on that OR table each time waiting for Kim to tell me I could breathe while simultaneously working on looking at the pockets of time I do have to parent them with a heart and mind of abundance. I know it sounds like a contraction and I honestly can’t say that my heart won’t ever not feel conflicted but I won’t stop trying to attain some level of peace inside.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I never imagined a life without the miracles that I was so graciously given to solely nurture for nine months. It was my body that housed them. My heart beat that they heart every minute of every day. I felt every summersault, every hiccup, every kick, every punch. I am in no way denying the importance of a healthy father in a child’s life, nor their bond. I can only speak from my personal experience and the connection on my end between myself and the six of them. It is INTENSE, I know every move they are about to make before they go into action. I feel everything they feel so deeply to the core of my being. I know that can never be severed no matter how many days were are forced to be apart from each other but it doesn’t make the strain felt on both sides any less real.

If there is one thing that this house frozen in time has taught me though it is to be present as much as I possibly can. Nothing is a guarantee. Soak in EVERY ounce of time even on those days you are completely spent. Feel the light in the darkness and just be as often as you can. 

I do know there is light and inner peace amidst your heart being tightly wound in piercingly sharp barbed wire because I can feel a calm deep within. I admit that I honestly don’t know how to ever be completely ok having those babies I carried, grew and nurtured every single day of their existence ripped out of my arms while I am exiled into silence but I have to trust an believe something good will come of all this.

HE knows what HE is doing even when you feel Goliath towering over you.

Xoxoxoxo

You’re Through The Insanity,

Colleen

The Shift From Everyday Mommy-ing To Unexpectedly Facing Goliath and how to support us through the darkness

We put so much damn pressure on ourselves.

I know Pinterest and those momentary social media spotlight comparisons have brought me to my knees more times than I can count.

I wanted so badly to do ALL the things.

My love undoubtedly grew alongside the numerical increase in my entourage but that time though… oh did that get spread so very thin.

I fought desperately to stay afloat, trying so hard to stay one step above their needs.

Endlessly advocating for them, attending appointment after appointment, spending YEARS getting them not only to and from therapy but then doing ALL the carry over at home, non-stop researching, talking to everyone I could with similar story lines  (Autism, developmental delays, vaccine injuries, epilepsy, ataxia), finding the “right” medical care only to uncover just how toxic the for profit medical and pharmaceutical world is then having to completely shift gears.

Truthfully I did it mostly because I wanted to but I can’t deny the role guilt played in my relentless pace to keep ahead. I had an obligation to pull them through ALL of this- my genes, my choices were wreaking havoc on their tiny little bodies and brains.  How is the world do they all have something in need of healing?? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to watch them play and be carefree as the explored the world.

Then I became a single mom.                                                               

The spotlight was suddenly on me to outperform myself in ways I couldn’t even fathom.

Not because I wanted to look superhuman in front of the world (truthfully the introvert in me just wants to run to a lake house somewhere, homeschool forever and hide) but because the court system thrusts an unattainable level of perfection upon you….or there are consequences – for your kids.

I feel like I am literally staring down a seemingly endless dark hallway riddled with explosives. If I don’t check EVERY box as I move forward I risk detonation. It is reality, hard core fact. There is no systematic support when you try to preserve what very little is left inside of you all you can do is hurl yourself amongst the jagged rocks of a broken system and pray that it’s our time on HIS lineup. Those of you who have preceded me in all of this know the truth all too well.

The court is not your friend.

They don’t care about what you endured and continue to battle.

They don’t care about your kids wants and needs until they are of a certain age.

You are a number; not an individual.

There is a grid and a numerical equation.

The survivor has to prove themselves at a pace that is beyond the scope of understanding and even then you can’t protect your kids.

I went from one form of control to another.

Doesn’t my last 10 years of upholding all of this count for anything?

Now I have to legit DO EVERYTHING, as I am so often reminded, because I don’t have a choice.

Does the fact that I have no choice make it ok? Or even acceptable?

I’m already drowning doing the workload of three people parenting 6 kids with intense special needs, keeping up with the bare minimum of household stuff.. and oh and by the way you’re going to be imputed for income too.

Sure. No problem.

I’m right on top of that Rose.

All sarcasm aside though.

If you know someone who has just thrown themselves to the wolves to save their soul, love on them as much as you can.

Randomly stop by and take over for an hour or two.

Give hugs. LOTS OF THEM.

Listen. Just simply listen. We know the reality of the system and you can’t fix it.

Wipe their tears; sit next to them just because.

Understand they need serious manpower to accomplish the bare minimum especially when the PTSD rears its head.

Never stop praying for that miracle.

Oh and wine and chocolate never hurt either.

Be patient, kind and gentle- if you have to walk out on their life please don’t break them in the process.

Remember healing isn’t linear. It takes an obscene amount of time for the poison to leave.

Initially we are still running on adrenaline but 6 months out…..

Well that’s when we REALLY need you.

Yours Through The Insanity,

Xoxoxoxo

~Colleen

In November, I abruptly found myself as the sole caregiver for my vibrant little sideshow.  Shock and adrenaline undoubtedly carried me through the first two months. I did the things. ALL the things; but they were surely completed on autopilot. Feeling wasn’t an option. I knew that if I went to that vulnerable space in my head, I would shatter the extremely thin shell of armor that remained. I told myself every morning that I had to keep it crack free as long as possible. Not because of ego or pride but because I had allowed societal influence instead of God to take the reins.  

My morning pep talk went a little bit like this…

Don’t show them you’re not ok. If you look like you’re ok, they will be ok. Just put one foot in front of the other. Do the things. You can make it until they are in bed. You can do all the things. You signed up to be mom to six, you have no choice.

I doubt I was actually fooling them; or anyone for that matter. I wasn’t ok, not even a little bit but I still had to be mom- somehow. There were no minutes off duty-ever. Not only was in in charge of everything I had always somehow juggled, but now I had added responsibilities- many of which I had no idea how to even begin sorting through. I was carrying the weight of EVERYTHING-x6. My head was a confused firestorm that couldn’t pull together a complete sentence to save my life. I was a rollercoaster internally. Keeping up the external façade for them was so damn taxing. 

Smile at drop off- show them its ok even though it isn’t. 

Stay calm, show grace- during the 45 minute melt down over not having any macaroni and cheese in the house.

Find a way to buy those sneakers for the one who has been squishing his feet into shoes that are over a size too small when your bank account balance is $32.

Keep your friends. You NEED your friends. Do EVERY thing you can do to reciprocate even though you are on empty… as I watched them walk away from me.

I couldn’t keep up with the pace I was compelled to move at. I felt the cracks slowly being chiseled into my very last defense mechanism. I’ve been in this space before and I knew the only way to let the light in was to touch the darkness. Terrified was an UNDERSTAETMENT. This time I had to do it alone. Like REALLY alone. No one to hold me. No one to sit next to me on the floor until. No one to do the kids. 

Everything had been stripped.

My life.

My friends.

My security.

My bank account.

My mental health.

My envisioned future.

But I knew one thing still remained.  

There was this one relationship….one I had gone a little astray from. 

I felt that pull in my heart. I had to get back to the peace I once knew. 

Not just so I could go back to the way things used to be when I was a faithful follower but this time I knew I was deep in the trenches because He needed that foundation to be deeper and stronger than last time. I wasn’t just being called to follow and walk alongside, I knew in my soul that my path this round would be routed in humility, grace and mercy but end in leading others directly into the light also.

I touched that dark. In fact, I still am months later. 

That light though has got nothing on the veil of darkness that keeps trying to cover me.

There is no way to describe it with written language but when you experience you WILL KNOW.

“Grown Up Baby Jesus”- I’ve heard it called.                                                 

I am still wrangle with agony, turmoil, and despair many days but relinquishing control to the best of my ability has led me to navigate things very differently. 

My days are FAR from perfect but there is PERFECT in every day.

Man did He use some CRAZY stunts to get my attention…. I’m done running though.

I think I’ll just rest here a little bit 😉

 Yours Through The Insanity,

Xoxoxoxo

Colleen

Standing among your ruins is something I wouldn’t wish upon ANYONE. 

All the shoulda, coulda wouldas… 

Everything I wish I had done differently simultaneously runthrough my mind like a broken record.

I wholeheartedly take responsibly for my transgressions. All of my actions, words and feelings that weren’t in line with the obedience HE calls me to consistently enact even through themost EPIC of trials. I pray nonstop, pour every last remaining drop I have within into His Word and will legit never stop growing my heart, mind and soul through the provision of grace. With that being said, even with my extremely deliberate and intentional acts in the pursuit of grounding myself in HIS hope and love … there are bad days. 

This life journey is beyond difficult to navigate. There are expectations EVERYWHERE.  They are not only constructed by theology, society, family, friends but I find the ones we place on ourselves bear the most weight. My internal dialog has always been heavy and disappointing people around me truthfully shatters my soul. I feel everything, both the good and the bad, so so deeply that picking up the pieces around me is almost an insurmountable task.

Everything, no matter how big or small, I take on, I do with every fiber of my being. Friendships, ministry, organizing, packing lunches…. You get the picture….

When I took my vows, I never anticipated being in such uncharted territory within my soul ten years later.

How is it I can feel so freaking shattered??

So responsible for changing my kids’ everything….  

Yet feel more whole inside than I have possibly ever felt at the same exact time???

That dichotomy has my soul thrashed in so many different directions and as a self-diagnosed “over-feeler” the guilt has gripped the wheel  and keeps attempting to steer me right over the edge.

6 kids.  I had the privilege of being chosen as the vessel that would grow and nurture them. I was blessed to feel their every teeny tiny move inside of me. I know their every earthly move before they even set in motion. I eat sleep and breathe every medical, social and academic celebration and hurdle they each encounter. I never in a million years anticipated that I would be a “part-time” mother; missing out on the very things I had the honor of giving them life to do. That disappointment in their eyes, and the pain that has taken up residence within my entire body, these last 3 months has cut so freaking deep. 

The tears.

The anger.

The fear.

The pain.

It is indescribable agony to know that I had a hand in shattering my kids’ world.

I’m told that I have to forgive myself in order to allow my roots to grow deeper in His truth and love to set us all free….

But just how do you forgive yourself for shattering your kids??  

For taking away their one constant in order to essentially save your own soul….

Yours Through The Insanity,

xoxoxoxo

Colleen

With what seemed like a million electrodes attached to her scalp, I laid next to her in that bed at DuPont watching her tiny body seize. All I could do is pray while the tears silently flowed until there was just nothing left. I wanted to scream, punch the wall and break down the door at the CDC all at the same time.  Those 50 minutes were pure agony. No one said a word but I knew what the results of that EEG were before they even had the electrodes untangled out that curly haired mess but I had to wait two more days for the “official” results. 

We were well on our way into our Wednesday afternoon routine, driving to speech therapy, when everything collapsed. I saw the hospital number on my phone. I pulled into a development, took a huge breath and stepped outside of the truck. I could hear the kids screaming inside because they didn’t understand why I was stopping. I don’t remember much of what her neurologist said to me because I froze with “Ceceila has epilepsy”.  Seizures I could handle… that word though… that changed the entire playing field. 

God, what had I done??

Vaccines never sat easy with my soul.  I wanted to trust the doctors, their knowledge, training and oath so I shut my intuition down and let my kids be injected with dose after dose of toxic poison. I didn’t do the research. God, if I had though…

Wednesday May 25th, 2016 was the very last morning I would see her not struggle. 

She had excelled at everything.  Walking before her 1st birthday- running before she was 14 months, she as full of personality and had way too many words for a 16 month old– like for real, wouldn’t shut up! She had missed her originally scheduled 4th dose of the DTaP due to a fever, so I had to drag her back in to get it. I was without a doubt in a fog of newborn haziness. Elia had been born in early February and we were definitely still in the adjustment phase but I recall that Friday morning after so vividly. 

I thought she just wasn’t feeling well. She was tuned out, had a fever and just wanted to hang out with her blankets and the iPad. Knowing the end of the story looking back, I know it was WAY more than that. Over the course of next week, she seemed to improve but I noticed little things were off.  Her balance wasn’tright, she was introverted, her word retrieval and overall speech intelligibility had drastically changed, she had frequent moments of staring into space, she had muscle spasms and hand and leg tremors. I spoke to the doctor but he didn’t really see the neurological stuff at first. I knew something wasn’t right though and he referred me to early intervention. They were my saving grace. I was familiar with the system because Nico had gone through it years prior and I was blessed to have an evaluation team not only familiar to me but that of which was comprised with the best of the best.  Each therapist looked me in the eye and told me she needed to see a neurologist STAT.

Freaking out inside… just how bad was this? I made phone call after phone call. The shortest wait time for an initial evaluation was FOUR MONTHS and I would have to drive from NJ to Lancaster PA for it. It seemed like an eternity. How can they make you wait four damn months when your kid clearly not ok??? 

The day FINALLY came.

I got Cecelia up at 4 and we made the trek to Lancaster. The entire ride I couldn’t quiet my mind, I’m truthfully not even sure if I breathed at all. I could see the doctor leaning towards Autism and I just kept saying what about the neurological impairments… the onset directly correlated with that vaccination. (I have yet to find a doctor who actually wants to have a reasonable conversation about that.) He then measured her head a second time and asked me if anyone had ever mentioned Microcephaly to me.  As a Special Education, teacher I knew exactly what he was talking about. Her head circumference had always been on the smaller side but truthfully all of my kids have always tipped the charts on that end of the spectrum. Could her brain really have just stopped growing? I was given orders to schedule an MRI as quickly as possible and that he was going to mark it as urgent in the hospital computer system.  My brain couldn’t keep up. In the days to come, I had myself convinced that we must be dealing with some type of tumor. 

The torment continued inside my skull for over a week.  This time we had to travel to the main hospital in Delaware.  It poured the entire way there. I kept trying to talk myself off the ledge but I was too far gone at that point. I knew she had no idea what was about to go down and I just kept trying to keep that smile on my face. The IV was probably the most difficult part for her, although she handled like a champ. I was doing ok until it was go time. Being so young, they had to completely sedate her. To keep her calm though, they do it while you are sitting there by her side. That moment. I can still feel it like it was this morning. To actually watch your child’s body go limp, be told to give her a kiss and then be escorted to the waiting room all in less than a minute…   57 minutes of waiting. ALONE.

So blessed there were no complications and she woke up picking right back up where she left off. I frantically waited 3 days and then I couldn’t wait any longer. I called the neurologist’s office and needed answers. We missed each other’s calls 3 times. When we finally did connect he told me the scans were clear. No sign of anything. I collapsed in gratitude momentarily and before I could even get up off the floor I remember asking now what? I was directed to the Neuromuscular team the main hospital. I had barely even hung up the phone before I was dialing the number. I needed answers. I needed to help her.  I almost was able to breathe … then I was told the soonest appointment they could give me was 5 months out because I was switching neurologists and even though it was within the same network she was considered a new patient again. Let’s just say I pretty much lost my shit.

After the ugly was over, I pulled myself together and made it a point to call every single day to see if there was a cancellation. I knew each and every person in the general call center’s voice by the end of month 2 and they sure knew mine. Prayer and persistence paid off because there was a late notice cancelation one Thursday morning. I scooped Cecelia and Elia up, barely grabbing the diaper bag,  and headed to Delaware. The neurologist listened, she even verbally acknowledged that she has seen more of this than she would like to admit in relation to vaccinations. She decided that Cecelia should also be evaluated by the pulmonology and orthopedic specialists on the team.  Fortunately those appointments were easy to schedule and both were complete within a two week time span. Neither gave us anything definitive and we were back to the drawing board.  That’s when the neurologist decided an EEG was the next appropriate step… and you all know what the results of that were.

The diagnosis appointment with the epilepsy specialist was grueling. I tried so hard to listen but at the same time I didn’t want to hear a word. Based on the way the seizures presented themselves on the EEG she as certain that Cecelia had a form of genetic epilepsy. I called bullshit on that one instantly inside of my head.  So on to genetics we went. It took a cajillion days to get it approved by the insurance company and then umpteen more to get the results. Her DNA was tested right down to the mitochondria. 

ALL INCONCLUSIVE.

Of course she has variations and mutations but nothing that could be pinpointed to a genetic disorder that would be presenting itself in this way neurologically. All that poking, prodding, testing, and there were no solid answers … 

Oh wait there is that one BIG SMOKING GUN….. 

but no one in the medical community would ever admit on paper that this damage was the result of vaccinations. 

We went home from that appointment with a prescription for Onfi in hand.

The specialist assured us over and over again that it had little to no side effects. 

I knew differently though. 

God had strategically placed one courageous mother on my path months prior to show me the way.

To Be Continued….

Yours Through The Insanity,

xoxoxoxo

Colleen

Enjoy EVERY minute of it.

I heard that so, so many times. (In fact, I still do.)

At the grocery store, at church, from the nurses… family….and friends….

God- I loved that little baby MORE than anything. I had never felt something so deep in my heart. I mean his toes, those little fingers. Come on! Total heart melt!

Then life took over.

Five more babies, one agonizing miscarriage and a house FULL of special needs stole the show.

8 years somehow had literally passed by right before me. That blink of an eye thing…. So freaking true.

I stopped dead in my tracks … and remember thinking … I know it isn’t realistic to enjoy every minute but had I even enjoyed a mere fraction of it?

Had I really been so busy fighting the demons in front of me that couldn’t even remember the last time I enjoyed my kids?

One thing was glaringly apparent, I had stopped feeling without a doubt; I was numb.

Auto pilot is a great survival tool but fuck I had missed out on so much.

Oh boy, did I start feeling then…. Anger, resentment, disappointment, despair…

I had that shit on lock down and lived in a state of paralysis for quite some time.

I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror. Every time I attempted to my eyes shot straight to the floor… as if the word failure was inked in red across my forehead.

How had I screwed up the only thing I had EVER really wanted to do??

I had let the precious gift of time just slip through the cracks. Time that I could never get back.

And that wasn’t even the worst part… the only way to flip the script was to start feeling again.

You see, feeling is a challenge for me.

The big guy upstairs thought enough of me to gift me with the privilege of being an intuitive empath. It is a blessing and an honor that comes with something I used to fear…. If I start to allow myself to feel my own feelings I then open the flood gates to literally feeling everyone’s everything and that isn’t contained to just the energy here in the psychical world.

This past weekend the most INCREDIABLE family on this earth chose to pour their love over me, even after exposing it all, and pushed me to open my heart just a little bit more.

Because of them I have officially broken through my writer’s block… which means I am feeling!!

I without a doubt have a long way to go and will need to fine tune this gift, implement boundaries and allow myself to feel always but I can honestly say I have truly accepted and find myself humbled in gratitude for the gift He chose to bestow upon me… even the ick that comes with it because there are so many lessons in that too.

So here’s to feeling, enjoying those minutes just a little bit more and opening up my heart to Him, myself and you all.

Yours Through The Insanity,

xoxoxoxo

Colleen

We are moms.

We tell ourselves we don’t have time to stumble.

We believe we have to hold on tight and run that ball into the end zone because there are little people counting on us to score that touchdown over and over again.

BUT……

Sometimes we fall, there is just no way around it.

As moms, we are juggling so many balls (I mean, seriously, the amount of things I have organized in my own head blows my own mind) that one or two are bound to hit the floor.

Sure, we have all missed appointments or forgotten it was gym day and sent our kids to school in the wrong shoes (Carmella might have actually worn sneakers on gym day a total of 12 times this past school year🙈) but when one of those REALLY big balls fall it cracks the door for that negative self talk, allows panic to creep in and and ever so slowly that air around you dissipates.

Sometimes I can bounce it back up a time or two, but the pattern tends to be that they ultimately end up shattering across the floor.

My mom guilt strikes because I feel like I’m failing them and the flood rushes in knocking me right off my feet.

This past year, I had so many balls slam down and shatter at once that I began to duck and cover. I felt as though I was walking on glass. With each step I took another chard would pierce the bottom of my foot. I became paralyzed, not wanting to move, not wanting to feeI. I held my breath until I turned blue and almost let it all go.

I need to be honest with you, I have a REALLY difficult time asking for help. It’s not because I want to maintain a certain image but because I feel guilty for dishing out the magnitude of my baggage. My baggage certainly doesn’t come light … it will collapse at your feet like an abandoned brick wall and my entourage of 6 littles trailing behind me is a force to be reckoned with all on its own.

I get hurt so easily. I will pour everything I have and then some into you. I carry your pain and joy as if it’s my own. If I let you in and you walk away because it become too much I crumble. I am a “circle,” my heart runs on those around me. I am fueled by the passion, drive and energy of my tribe. When I lose even just one person it tears my heart apart, all I want to do it fix it but I struggle so much with confrontation that I let it stay bottled up instead. So lately I have been keeping the people around me at a safe-ish distance for the protection of my heart.

I am also notorious for not seeing things until they are slammed in my face and this time around was surly no different. HE literally had to send someone I barely even knew to break down the door that I had barricaded myself behind. She saw me when I couldn’t even see my own reflection.The grace that this beautiful soul poured into me was able to fill me up enough to get back on my own feet. I was reminded that I needed to get uncomfortable and absolutely had to let people back into my life and heart. I need to be raw and unapologetically me for the very simplest fact that I AM (created in HIS image and likeness).

So I cracked the door,  just slightly,  and I was literally ambushed with love and support from so many unlikely directions. My gratitude runs so, so deep for all of you (you know who you are❤️).

I WANT YOU TO KNOW……

If you too are fighting a fight mama, no matter know big or how small it may be, that I SEE YOU.

I WILL NOT leave your side.

I have walked that plank too- more than once, in fact.

I am here to fill your soul back up with truth and grace.

My tribe will attest to the fact that I will keep knocking until I have to bust that door down.

I SEE YOU, Mama.

I SEE YOU.

Yours Through The Insanity,

xoxoxoxo

Colleen

What if we are looking at this all wrong?

What if we put the politics aside for just a minute and look at what I like to call “humantics”?

What if we could strip the layers of anger, lies, betrayal, religious and party oriented beliefs and look at how we got here?

What if we stopped putting band aids on EVERYTHING and demanded that we ourselves as individuals take responsibility for where we are because, let’s face it, the government is NEVER going to do it for us?

Yes, we have a nationwide bullying epidemic on our hands.

Yes, we as a country have a major anger problem.

Yes, we have a mental health crisis on our hands.

Yes, we have an opioid and pharmaceutical crisis on our hands.

And yes, like it or not, we have a gun problem; amongst other things….

BUT what if the root of our problems is far more complex and different than you have EVER considered?

I have 6 children; ages 8, 6, 4, 3, 2 and nearly 2 months.

3 of my 6 children struggle with mental health issues ALREADY.

Another 1 of my children has epilepsy, coupled with ataxia and other physical neurological impairments.

I struggle every day with the fact that I have to make a choice to either buy them a rain boots that fit or to pay their therapy bills.

I single handedly understand that our healthcare system is not set up to support children, or adults, who need mental health services. The services are beyond difficult to get covered; if they are covered they are almost always capitated to a pre-fixed number of sessions per year. Many mental health professionals don’t even take insurance and even if you did find a good therapist who accepts insurance you will still need to get your child a diagnosis before the insurance companies will even considering covering anything….. but that requires a evaluation which can cost thousands out of pocket and even then it might not get you anywhere.  All of these things OBVIOUSLY have to change.

But today I am not going to argue about any of that.

Today, I want to bring forward a discussion that you don’t usually hear when our nation is in crisis mode.

The real question that I want answered is…….

WHY IN THE WORLD ARE OUR BABIES STUGGLING WITH A MENTAL HEALTH EMIDEMIC IN THE FIRST PLACE??????

My two year old started showing signs of mental health problems at 9 months (slamming his head against the floor, biting himself, screaming a high pitched cry for HOURS)….. I needed to know why.

I researched and researched. I talked to doctors. I talked to other families. We did evaluations. EVERYTHING has led back to TOXCITY.

Our food is full of chemicals, even our produce.

Monsanto has done a great job finding use for the left over Glyphosate (Round-Up) created for and used to wipe out the jungles in the Vietnam War…. But sure, it is absolutely safe to use on our food….

As a mom who can’t produce breastmilk, no matter what I do, I cringe single time I scoop that formula out of the can knowing it is laden with chemicals but what choice do I have?

Our water, our air, our personal care products are also so, so contaminated.

Then there is the taboo subject of vaccinations. My 3 year old daughter was vaccine injured after receiving the dTap. She regressed in her ability to walk and speak three days after it was administered. She now battles the daily effects of epilepsy, ataxia and neurological damage on the entire left side of her body. I will get more in depth of this another day but long story short every single genetic disorder DNA test has come back NORMAL. That leaves us yet again right back to toxicity.

Go on the CDC’s website look at the vaccine ingredient list. Chemicals. Heavy metals. Aborted fetal cells. Animal cells. Things NEVER meant to be put into our bodies but are being injected into our kids starting on day 1 in the hospital.

Think I’m crazy? Check it out for yourself. Look at the listed side effects too….

Now look at the comparison of the recommended vaccination schedule from 1983 and today.

I’ll leave that one right there for today.

My extensive nonstop research and quest for answers has led me to the very understanding that one of the main reasons we are even in this mental health (and cancer) epidemic comes down to insane exposure to toxic chemicals that were never meant for our bodies… especially our little ones.

Our babies are paying the price of corruption and greed in so, so many ways.

I wonder what our world would be like if we put an end to this madness?

It starts with me.

It starts with you.

Please do your own research. Don’t believe me just because I have said it. Don’t believe “them” just because “they” say it. Make your own informed decision based upon your own personal immersion of peer reviewed studies on all sides of the fight. Oh and be sure to look at who funded the studies too…..

We have the power to change the world…. for our babies….what if we stopped poisoning them…. and ourselves???

Yours Through The Insanity,

XOXOXOXO

Colleen

I am the first to admit that I am an undeniably rare “crazy” breed.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and let my passion lead the way.  On the flip side of that equation, is that I am also prone to falling, VERY, VERY hard- usually flat on face right in the middle of the street for everyone to see.  Most of the time it is easy to brush myself off and chalk it up to another lesson learned. But there are those “things” that eat at me until I have fallen apart so badly inside that I have no choice but to cry uncle.

This is definitely one of those “things.”

Now, I have already admitted to (and take complete ownership of) the crazy that runs deep through my veins and what I am about to say may make most of you think I more than likely need to be committed (If you haven’t already previously thought that about me!) but I’ve become a risk taker over the past few years so why not lay this out there too….

I have ABSOLUTLY been blessed with SIX children earth side and ONE angel baby who gives us a hand from the other side. My life is literarily insane and chaotic to the point where I am losing my mind most days but I wouldn’t change this path that I have been lead down for anything. All of this was placed in my heart so very long ago and just feels right to me; even if God and I are the only ones who get it.

Here’s the thing though…. What do you do when your heart ache grows more intense with each passing day as you realize that you are not ready to be done yet your body has shut down the option?

See I MUST be certifiable, right??!!

Finality is a tough one for me. I haven’t had a lot of it in my life- mostly because you can’t tell me that I can’t do something. I will persist and make it happen no matter how many times I may get knocked down. There is always another door, another option…. but this time things are different. I can’t undo this one and I’m struggling with that. I knew walking into the hospital that this was it. I tried telling myself I was done- that I was tired. I REALLY tried hard to convince myself but my heart, MY WHOLE HEART, is crazily saying something VERY different.

Maybe it just takes time.

Maybe some of us always feel this way.

Maybe it’s because my body made the decision for me.

All I know is this heartache is FIERCE and maybe it’s that maybe, just maybe, I’m ever so slightly insane….

Yours Through The Insanity,

xoxoxoxo

Colleen