Vaccines, Autism, and Faith: What This Autistic Mom Wants You to Know

When I first saw recent headlines announcing that the CDC would be looking into a link between vaccines and autism, I kind of did a double take. I remember reading about a the famous MMR study being retracted in 2010, and I was working as a contractor for the CDC in 2016 when the Andrew Wakefield documentary Vaxxed was making the rounds. (Robert F. Kennedy Jr. produced a sequel documentary, Vaxxed II: The People's Truth, a few years later.)

My boss at the time mentioned it to me as a heads up, even though we were in another department (I was supporting breast cancer awareness campaigns). Curious, I looked into it on my lunch break. What I found then—and what has been confirmed by years of research since—is that the data from that study was deeply flawed, even fraudulent.

That was before I had autistic kids of my own. Before I realized I was autistic. Before I understood, deep in my bones, how exhausting it is to keep having the same conversation year after year, while we're just fighting to get services and supports covered by insurance (and we're lucky to have insurance).

It’s frustrating to keep having to defend my parenting to friends and loved ones instead of feeling like I can count on them. I remember exasperatedly asking one person, “Even if it is the vaccines, what am I supposed to do? I can’t undo it. And the more you hammer this point, the more it feels like you’re telling me I’m a bad parent for vaccinating my children.”

Don't get me wrong, I understand the emotions that swirl around this topic. I know what it's like to struggle with uncertainty, fear, and a desire for answers. I'm just not convinced that these announcements will help alleviate those concerns.

I also understand why some parents might feel torn, why autistic adults might feel frustrated, why some Christians might feel unsure of where to stand. And I get why, when headlines like this appear, many in our communities have questions.

What We Know About Autism (and What We Don't)

Autism is a complex neurodevelopmental difference with strong genetic roots. If you're autistic, there's a good chance your parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents had autistic traits, too. Science also suggests that some environmental factors—things like prenatal health, parental age, and certain pregnancy-related complications—may play a role in how autism presents.

But you’ll notice that none of these factors point to vaccines as a cause. Yet we continue to cite a fraudulent and retracted study, even though study after study since has found no link.

I have to assume that people keep talking about it because it's so painfully human to fear what we don't know, because our fear is often louder than facts.

Perhaps we keep talking about it because misinformation lingers. Because when you don't know why something happens—why your child's brain works differently, why parenting feels different than you expected—you go looking for answers.

But I am concerned that letting fear and uncertainty take up so much space in our lives and in our national discourse will lead to increasingly devastating and complex consequences, especially to those among us who are already medically vulnerable.

I am concerned that this will distract and detract from opportunities to address issues many autistic and disabled individuals are currently facing, including higher rates of medical neglect and discrimination, under-diagnosis of autistic women, adults, and communities of color, access to support and accommodations, support while navigating co-occurring conditions, and higher mortality rates.

I will also add that if you are seeing symptoms or behaviors that seem like autism, but they onset only after an illness or a medication or an injury, you may want to explore other possibilities with your doctor. Your provider can help you navigate a thoughtful, careful process of ruling out diagnoses that may share symptoms.

Photo by Derick McKinney on Unsplash

Christians, Medicine, and Loving Our Neighbors

I know some Christians hesitate when it comes to modern medicine, especially vaccines. But historically, Christians have been some of the biggest advocates for medical care. We have answered the call to care for the sick and vulnerable by establishing hospitals, by offering free care, by going into communities pushed to the margins of society. Christians were champions of inoculation (a predecessor to vaccination) in Europe, and in early colonial American efforts in smallpox inoculation were championed in part by Puritan pastors, even when they faced public opposition.

Scripture, too, points to the value of medicine:

• In Luke 10:34, the Good Samaritan treats a wounded man with oil and wine—ancient medicine at the time.

• In 1 Timothy 5:23, Paul tells Timothy to take something for his stomach problems.

• In Matthew 9:12, Jesus reminds us that the sick need a doctor.

Medicine is not in opposition to faith. It's a tool. A gift. A way to care for one another. The ability to develop vaccines—like the ones that have eradicated smallpox, nearly eliminated polio, and saved countless lives—is part of the common grace God has given humanity.

At the same time, I recognize that it's within your rights as a parent not to vaccinate your kids. I have heard and understand the ethical concerns around things like using human tissue cells to create vaccines.

But it's also within your rights as a parent to only socialize your child with children who are vaccinated—or, for that matter, only with those who aren't.

It's within your rights to vaccinate on a delayed or modified schedule. We've done this unintentionally in the past, and now we go into our appointments with a plan for an alternative schedule just in case there’s too much dysregulation to do it all in one appointment. Autistic or not, I refuse to violently restrain my child when I can just come back in a few days.

I also believe vaccine allergies and injuries are real, and I don't believe autism is a vaccine injury.

What Do We Do With This Study?

I don't know what the CDC hopes to find in this new study. Maybe they're hoping that by revisiting the question one more time, they can put the issue to bed. Maybe they're responding to political pressure. Maybe they think there's still a small pocket of uncertainty to explore.

My hope is that this study will be done responsibly, and I expect that it will reinforce what we already know and help put fears to rest. But even if there are new findings, it won’t help (let alone “eradicate”) the very real group of adults and children who presently need support.

I know the world still struggles to accept that autism doesn't mean you're broken or need to be cured. I know there will always be people searching for something to blame for their loved ones' differences and struggles. But I can't say it clearly enough: Autistic kids don't need preventing. They need understanding.

And the best thing we can do—for them, for ourselves, for each other—is to commit to building a world that accepts us as we are and puts as much effort into accommodating and including autistic individuals as we do into trying to eradicate, prevent, and cure the way God made our brains.

Let's consider that loving our neighbors includes protecting them from preventable diseases. Let's be open to the idea that seeking truth includes listening to good science. We can trust that God is not surprised by our neurodiversity—He designed us this way.

What This Means for Christian Parents of Autistic Kids

I know how it feels to want a reason. A cause. Something to point to and say, this is why my child struggles with certain things, this is why their path is different, this is why our life looks the way it does. I know how it feels to want to minimize and reduce your child’s suffering.

But your child didn't become autistic because of something you did or didn't do. They are autistic, because that's how they were made. I don't just believe that as a mom of autistic kids or an autistic adult—I believe it as a Christian.

If we believe that we are image-bearers of God and that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, we have to remember this includes autistic kids. This includes autistic adults. This includes all the ways we are different, all the ways we experience the world, all the ways our brains and bodies don't fit neatly into a mold.

Fearfully and wonderfully made doesn’t mean perfectly made. If we believe God is all-knowing, outside of time, and limitless, why do we assume His capacity is limited to what humans can comprehend? It’s so easy to forget that God’s design is bigger than human expectations. But we have to remind ourselves that every person, disabled or not, reflects His image in ways beyond our understanding.

Autism is not a tragedy. It isn't something to be cured. It also isn't some magical superpower. It's a disability. And because the autistic experience is so broad, it is disabling in varied ways and looks different from person to person.

I often remind my children that some things for us are will be easy even when they are hard for most people around us, and similarly, that some things for us will be difficult that are easy for the majority of people around us. It doesn’t mean we are broken, it just means we need different support and accommodation to thrive.

But by creating more accommodation, designing and building with more consideration, taking the time to learn about the many support needs we may have, our communities have the opportunity to create a world that feels more navigable.

We have the privilege to come alongside those among us who might otherwise be cast aside.

We have the immense responsibility to choose not to exclude our peers because of their ability, appearance, or need for accommodation.

Friends, if you take away nothing else, please know this: You were never meant to be someone else's version of “normal”—you were created with purpose, just as you are.