A Mother's Regret, Remorse, and Repentance

Bringing Fulton Sheen into the discussion of vaccine injury

I recently enjoyed a vibrant discussion on Instagram about vaccine regret and noted in particular the voices of the brokenhearted. While reading, I recalled a Fulton Sheen quote about the difference between regret, remorse, and repentance and said I would find it and share when I did. Well, I found it. You can scroll down the page to read his words directly or hang out for an explanation of what precipitated the quote search. Even if the topic makes you uncomfortable, I hope you stay for it…

All this talk about a “listening Church”… but sometimes that we reserve our listening skills for those things which tickle the ears and no more. At any rate, you’re invited in…

Vaccine injury is a difficult topic for most people to discuss. Difficult for true believers who support a mandated schedule and who are upset with anything that might lead to “vaccine hesitancy.” Difficult for the injured (or their loved ones) whose pain is often ignored and mocked. Difficult for those somewhere in the middle who can’t make heads or tails of the confusion and intensity of the battle. I’m not an expert! I can’t know.

I don’t like talking about it, which might surprise some of you who have been around me for a while and who might describe my approach as, well, energetic. If you don’t like talking about it then maybe shut up, eh? Well, that’s not an option. It has something to do with the idea of repentance, which Fulton Sheen will touch on in a bit. It is not my personality to seek negative attention or discord; I stick my neck out only when compelled by something greater than my natural tendencies.

Looking backward…

Two of my children were injured by two different vaccines, ten years apart; Hepatitis B and the MMR, which are among the riskiest of the childhood schedule. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time and I was just trying to get along and be a good mom. I wanted to be in that middle space of peace and order where there is no regret, no suffering, no discord. Yet…

I have regrets. And my children have suffered.

I did not choose to be in this space of conflict and no reasonable person would. The “anti-vax” movement is not comprised of ornery people who hate medicine and want to have their reputations ruined, but almost entirely of those who have had to carry or witness the grief of injury. Am I “anti-vax”? No, I’m pro-informed consent, pro-safety, pro-common sense, pro-life. My perspective is not defined by what I oppose but by what I love. If you can show me evidence that a vaccine is truly safe, effective, and medically indicated for me or for my children, then I will support it. Until then…

I am different.

Enchephalitis
Years of seizures
Gastrointestinal disease
Suppressed immune function
Autoimmune dysfunction
Delays
Pain. Pain. Pain.

I would not choose to be mocked by a Catholic priest after sharing that my children were injured, but it happened. I’ve been called a liar by fellow Catholics and told by a shepherd that my kids were “an acceptable sacrifice” for the greater good. Freudian slip or just Ironic?

"Pray brethren (brothers and sisters) that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almightyFather."

Children on the altar of a billion dollar industry?

I don’t assume I know what he meant. I know because he told me. My kids took one for the team. I get it. The spiritually manipulative language is really what makes my blood boil and the tears stream, reminding of the abandonment by those who have been charged with the commission to love. When your child has been injured, you have no legal recourse, no one to pay the bills, and very few Catholics (including clergy) who will allow your story to be told and your grief to be expressed and consoled.

It is a surreal experience. I could not have chosen this.

Over the years, I’ve spoken with countless parents who regret their decision to consent to the childhood vaccine schedule…

I should have done better research.
I should have followed my gut.
I shouldn’t have let them bully me.
I shouldn’t have let my desire to please people come first.
I should have filed for an exemption.

Many mothers remember the moment that their child was injected with whatever vaccine caused the injury; a photograph or video reel permanently fixed in the mind. It is accompanied by intense pain and grief. They can’t go back. They can’t undo it. But they see it happen over and over again in the mind without being able to touch it. What have I done? If only…

Those of you who are uncomfortable with this conversation might want to hop off the train now… or maybe you already have. I will certainly be accused of perpetuating fear and causing “hesitancy,” thereby making me a dangerous human being. That’s what Instagram said when they threatened account deletion and put me in a 9-month time out, and also why I’m grateful for this platform. Imagine, in America, being socially and materially punished for saying:

“My child was injured by a medical procedure.”

If you have had the great sorrow of having to make such a statement, then you know that there’s a sort of madness surrounding the topic and the industry, where otherwise decent people feel justified in mocking, shaming, and accusing grieving parents. It starts to feel a little cult-like…

Don’t question.
Don’t even think your question.
You’re not an expert.
You’re dangerous.
Go along or you’ll be punished.

And harder still on the other end … we accuse ourselves. So much regret.

Those of you who have walked this path understand where I could take this, and that we could talk all day with increasing energy and frustration. However…

The most important thing about grief and anger is knowing how to redeem it, how to disrupt a bitter inward cycle, and how to allow the light of Christ to pierce that bubble and heal. Injustice compels us to rise up and fight for the vulnerable, and Love itself which compels us to testify strongly to what is good, true, holy, and most worthy of our attention. I will continue to speak to and for the broken on the fringes, oppose what is corrupt and unworthy of our trust, and move forward with a testimony of God’s goodness and design for our bodies and souls.

Looking Forward…

Fulton Sheen writes that “After a fault, there can either be regret, remorse, or repentance.” He then discusses the differences between the three and why those differences matter. His words were not only a consolation for me but they were also marching orders. What should we do with this guilt and grief surrounding the harm which has come to us or to our children?

First of all, we must understand the context under which we made the decision and forgive ourselves for trusting those who should be more worthy of our trust. Then read Sheen’s words. Excerpted from a chapter called “How to Find Out What is Ailing You”.

First, on regret and remorse …

Regret has no moral or ethical implications; it generally expresses itself as “What a fool I’ve made of myself,” or “How stupid I am,” or “How could I ever have done such a thing?” Regret always looks to the past, wishing that one could undo it…

In regret, the past is regarded as something which one would like to capture again in order to do things differently, but there is a deep sense that the past is untouchable. Hence the sterile reflection made by the regretful “The past is past; what is done is done.” What is tragic about regret is that those who have that psychological experience regard the fault as irreparable; nothing can be done to make amends.

Remorse is different. It does not regard the past as a broken egg which cannot be pieced together again; it desires a future where one can undo the past. Remorse has an element of expiation, and blotting out the past, which is not present in regret. It would like to hold the egg a second time; it would never be dropped again. Remorse is always a prisoner of the past; it does not shrug its shoulders and forget it…

Remorse quickly leads to despair, because there seems no road of escape. The larger number of souls who are stretched out on psychoanalytic couches are suffering from this remorse.

Many individuals who made the decision to allow a medical procedure which results in injury know regret and remorse as clinging companions. The burden is particularly difficult for those who believe that the procedure was unnecessary, allowed without proper research, or done in opposition to one’s conscience or instinct. To think that somehow we are responsible for injury to our children? Even now after many years of reflecting, understanding, and forgiving, my stomach turns uncomfortably at the thought.

In my case, I witnessed one medically verified injury and believed that it could not happen again because that’s what I was told. With my own hands, I cared for a loved one with vaccine-induced encephalitis and believed the professionals who said it was a “freak” incident and so rare that I need not worry. Yet it did happen again. Was it my fault the first time? Partially but not wholly. I was taught to trust and so I trusted. Was it my fault the second time? That painful ache returns when I ask the question because my honest answer is uncomfortable.

I wanted to get along with the system. I wanted to be seen as a responsible parent. And when they introduced the Hepatitis B as a newborn vaccination with almost no safety data, zero reason (other than as a public health experiment) for administering to an hours-old infant with an underdeveloped immune system and no risk factors? Lord, have mercy. I’m just so deeply sorry. I know that I bear some responsibility.

To understand the context and culture in which I made that decision is important and I do realize that I did not have full informed consent nor did I understand what that even means. However, I’m saying it out loud because I want others who carry that same guilt to see that they are not alone, and maybe to walk with me a little further into Sheen’s answer to the limitations of regret and remorse.

He speaks of repentance next and I am liberated by it. The word feels harsh, especially when it’s not clear that we’ve done anything sinful. But just stick with me…

Finally, there is repentance, which is a higher kind of remorse. St. Paul spoke of both of these:

“Supernatural remorse leads to an abiding and salutary change of heart, whereas the world’s remorse leads to death.”

Repentance is also self-reproach, like the other states, but it is never sterile; it lays hold of the past by undoing it through penance… Peter repented unto the Lord, which produced a new man. God alone, through the redemptive merits of Christ, receives the sinner as sea receives the bather—to clean him and restore him to the shore more refreshed than ever. In taking a human nature and becoming a new Adam, Christ undid the sin of the first Adam. Then the sin in Adam became a “happy fault,” for it ended in a greater gift than that which was lost.

Only the Divine Who is outside of time can lay hold of the past and make it serve the future in a different way. Godly sorrow makes a man grieve because he has sinned and hurt someone he loves; worldly sorry or remorse makes one wish that he never had to suffer from an Oedipus complex. The remorseful man considers himself as stupid; the repentant man considers himself as a sinner…

Nothing in this life need be wasted; even the faults of the past can be turned into goodness—but it takes more than a man on a couch to do it; it takes a Man on a Cross.

I repent of my participation in a lucrative medical experiment where my children were the test subjects, and I commit to turning it into goodness. So I get off my couch. None of it need be wasted. Blessed be God forever.

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