Autism, Tylenol, and Vaccines: It Doesn’t Matter What Caused It—I’d Do It All Again

Did you see last week’s news?

The news that there’s no clear evidence Tylenol causes autism—and that recent research doesn’t support a causal link.

That’s great. We can close the chapter on this discussion and never visit it again, right?

Just like the “data” that proved vaccinations cause autism—we put that in a box, tucked it away, and never had to deal with it again.
Yeah… that didn’t happen.

In 1998, Andrew Wakefield published an article in the U.K. claiming vaccinations cause autism.

In 2010, Wakefield’s claim was retracted, and he lost his medical license.

And yet, people still believe that vaccinations cause autism. Not only has Wakefield’s claim been scientifically proven incorrect, but scientists all over the world have shown there is no causal link between autism and vaccinations.

And still—we’re talking about it. People still believe it.

And some parents are choosing not to vaccinate their children because of bogus research.

I know that many kids diagnosed with autism experience regression. Nick never regressed, so I admit that I don’t know what that feels like firsthand. I’m pretty sure Nick has been autistic since birth. But I can imagine how unbelievably difficult it must be. I understand that vaccinations are given around the same age a child with autism regresses. I understand how that makes vaccinations look.

I also understand parents wanting to have someone—or something—to blame. And in this case, it’s vaccinations.

I understand that it’s painful, heartbreaking, and difficult to accept your child has autism. It’s hard knowing the child you have isn’t the child you thought you had.

For me, it was a little like mourning a death. As my mum once told me, you need to mourn the child you lost before you can accept the child you have.

Accepting your child has autism is difficult and scary and just plain hard. But slowly, you get there.

One of the things that helped me accept Nick’s autism was celebrating the small victories. We learned not to look at the big picture, but instead to take everything step by step.

Some days, weeks, and months it was baby steps—and other times, it felt like gigantic leaps. But every small step added up. And despite the frequent backsteps, he made progress.

We stopped worrying so much about what caused his autism. Instead, we focused on where we were in those moments and worked through the problems that arose. Nick had a lot of issues, so we tackled what we could fix, one thing at a time. We gave him tricks that would help him navigate the world. We helped him every way we could think of. Making his life more livable was the initial focus, but being a functual adult was always the long term goal.

There were times that the current issues were so overwhelming, we could only focus on the present issues. But being an adult was never far from my mind. At that time, I did not know what being an adult would mean for Nick.

Would he work full time? Would he get married? Have a family? Drive a car? I could help to get him adulthood, but I couldn’t decide what adulthood would mean for him.

Nick is 21 now, and he’s showing positive signs toward independence. I’m incredibly proud of the progress he’s made.

It’s easier for me to say vaccines and Tylenol don’t cause autism, because I’m not watching my child regress. I’m not fighting to get my kid a diagnosis. I’m not caring for a child who has far more struggles than strengths. I’m not taking my kid to countless therapies after school or crying at IEP meetings because everything feels so bleak.

I may not be in any of those situations now, but I have been in most of them. Raising a child is hard—and raising a child with special needs is even harder.

Personally, I think acceptance makes the journey a little easier on everyone. How can we expect a child to accept their diagnosis if Mom and Dad can’t accept it?

Don’t misunderstand—it’s not easy to accept, but it is possible. I chose to fake accepting my kid’s autism until I really could accept it.

It hasn’t been easy. In fact, raising an autistic child has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It’s been a long road, full of potholes, speed bumps, and plenty of challenges. It’s a journey not all parents can relate to—but it’s been worth it.

It’s been a long, crazy, and amazing journey—and it doesn’t matter to me whether it was caused by Tylenol, vaccinations, or even showering on a Tuesday, because I’d do it all again.

⭐ If this post made you think—or laugh—give it a like, share it with another parent who might need to hear it, and hit ⭐ to follow Brain Fog & Brilliance for more honest stories about parenting, neurodiversity, and life’s wonderfully weird moments.