Two Generations of Asthma

Resolving Asthma with GNM

My husband and I were excited to schedule the day, June 2, 1987, to have our second baby, Benjamin. The doctors convinced us that this “scheduled C-section” was the best way to go and the safest since I had had a C-section with my first baby.

My first memory after his birth was me standing over his incubator feeling so helpless and scared. I looked at Benjamin for the first time, shocked to see the IV that was inserted into his perfect little head. The IV that was providing nutrition that was supposed to come from his nursing mother. I remember putting my hand through the side hole and feeling his tiny hand around my finger for the first time. I remember feeling so helpless.

They told me my baby was C-sectioned too early and his lungs were not fully developed. They told me this incubator was the safest place for him and only after 36 hours was I allowed to hold him for the first time. This was his home for the first 72 hours of life.

As I look back, I wonder how scary it was for him to all of a sudden be yanked from his safe, comfortable environment, then poked, pricked, and placed alone in a bright, sterile place, not being able to hear my heart beat or feel the energy of the only thing he had gotten to know for the last 9 months.

We got through that and got home. All was well until Ben was about 6 weeks old when he had his first major asthma attack. I don’t remember much from this long, panicked, 20-minute drive to the emergency room (ER), with my baby in the back seat gasping for breath.

Before the age of 2, we had around a dozen similar trips to the ER where they would give breathing treatments, run chest X-rays, and prick him for blood tests. These tests always resulted in a diagnosis of asthma. Sometimes he would be treated and released and sometimes admitted.
At one point, I remember looking at bills and calculating a total of 21 days in the hospital in these first 2 years.

When Ben was about 4, I started doing research on the cause of asthma. I learned that toxins in the home “caused” asthma. So I detoxed the home. I learned that vitamin C deficiency was the “cause,” so I started Ben on vitamin C chewables. I discovered tea tree oil and its unique and seemingly safe properties of “killing things.” I decided to give it a try. When he showed his first sign of the onset of asthma—a drippy nose—I instinctively put a couple drops under his nose and said to him, “Ben, this is going to help you.” He liked the smell and it seemed to stop his cold in its tracks.

At the time, tea tree oil seemed like a miracle cure, because it seemed from that moment on, we prevented the frequent ER visits. His next few years, Ben was pretty healthy. When the kids were young teens during a spring break, both Ben and my other son, Taylor, had an asthma attack. They had been doing so well, we didn’t pack the nebulizer, but late in the evening Ben’s asthma was getting to the dangerous level, so we left in search of an ER.

The next morning, we found out that the day before, the pool had been treated with chlorine and both boys had gone for a swim immediately after. Our thought at the time was that they inhaled the chlorine, which we all know is toxic.

Ben was active in his teenage years with basketball and football, skiing in the winter. He did not have chronic “exercise-induced asthma,” but occasionally would have an attack during practice or a game or on the slopes. When Ben was in college, there were a few periods where his asthma flared up, one of which was around the time he witnessed a horrible motorcycle accident, which resulted in multiple fatalities.

After college, Ben worked in construction and his asthma seemed to flare up sporadically again. In Ben’s mid-20s he was in a long-distance relationship. And at one point, his girlfriend received the shocking news that her sister, a freshman in college, had a serious episode in the middle of the night and ended up in the ER. A few days later, this beautiful 19-year-old passed away. It was a huge shock to all.

Ben was 3 hours away from his girl and his asthma really ramped up. At this point, I had just been introduced to GNM, so we made a correlation and discussed the importance of being with his girlfriend as much as possible. When he had a weekend with her, his asthma decreased, and when being away from her, it got worse.

I remember thinking at the time how being separated from his girlfriend was like being separated from me in his first days of life. Ben is 34 now and is doing pretty well. He notices that when he gets dehydrated, he has challenges breathing in, but has not had a serious asthma attack in years.

Now, since being introduced to Dr. Hamer’s discoveries in 2012, let me tell you about my grandson’s experiences with asthma.

My daughter called me on Facetime one Saturday morning when her son, Pax, was around 2 years old. She told me that Pax woke up again last night coughing and not being able to breathe. This was the third weekend in a row. I asked her what changed about Friday’s schedule with Pax. What is Pax experiencing that is new on Fridays starting 3 weeks ago?

I explained that the “asthma attack” is the peak of a healing or recovery phase in the bronchial muscles after the resolution of a particular kind of conflict. Particularly, I was looking for something akin to a “territorial fear of aggression,” or a “fear in the territory,” as this is the kind of conflict that affects the bronchial muscles, according to GNM.

Without hesitation, she shared that they started going to a kids’ event at a coffee shop where there is this really cool musician who comes with tambourines, guitars, and drums, and sings and lets the kids interact and play along.

I said, “Oh that sounds cool, how does Pax do?” She said, “Well, he doesn’t seem to like it as much as I thought he would. He usually asks to go over to the side counter away from the music. I usually get him a bagel and juice and he just watches, but sometimes I see him cover his ears.” That was an important clue.

I go on to explain to her that asthma is the peak of healing of a “fear in the territory” for a right-handed boy. Pax is experiencing this “fun” event as fearful, and based on your description, it might have something to do with the loud banging noises. Now, having done daycare for 12 years, it’s kind of unusual for the average boy to not like drums, tambourines, and making noise. So I suspected this noise was a reminder of something scary that happened earlier on in his life, or even in the womb. I then asked my daughter if there was anything that happened in the womb that maybe was “loud” and “scary” or fearful.

Without hesitation, she told me the story:

“Yes! I was about 7 months pregnant and at a music festival to support my husband. At one point, I remember it being so loud that I got extremely anxious, so much so that I had to leave and ended up walking home.”

“That sounds like that might be it!” I said.

We were still on Facetime and I could see that Pax had been listening as he was resting in his mother’s arms. So I explained in simple terms how he could not see the noise then, but he got scared of it and felt his mother get scared too, so now drums and loud noises just remind him of that fear. I also explained that he and mommy were safe now.

At this point, my daughter and I get into the “now what do I do” question regarding GNM. The goal is get Pax to know that he is safe, and to reprogram the sound of drums and loud noises so that it doesn’t carry a “fear in the territory.” We talked about the use of noise-reducing headphones. We discussed some other strategies but mainly being aware of his subconscious fear, and calling attention to any loud noises before he hears them, so as to not be taken by surprise.

Over the next year, we confirm that drums and fireworks are primary triggers; they consistently resulted in asthma attacks. When he was 4 years old, Pax watched the fireworks with his headphones on and he still had a pretty significant asthma attack in the middle of the night. This means his body was not quite ready to let go of the fear in the territory associated with the loud sounds.

At 5-years-old, before the fireworks started, Pax said, “Mommy, my cousin and I are going to watch the fireworks together and I am not going to be afraid!” He chose to not put his headphones on because he was so confident. That night, he only had very minor asthma.

At 6-years-old, Pax makes it through the fireworks with no symptoms whatsoever!

Pax is now 9-years-old, and the only time he has had an attack was a few weeks into his kindergarten year, when he woke up with asthma in the middle of the night. After his mom got things under control, she asked him, “Was there anything that scared you yesterday?” He responded, “Yes! The Emergency Fire Drill…it was so loud and we didn’t know what was going on! We were really scared!”

After this, they both felt peace and the asthma subsided.

By comparing the two stories of my son and now my grandson, I’ve witnessed how the knowledge of GNM applied at the time of the first symptoms can save so much time, energy, stress, money, and potential chronic issues! I am so thankful I have this knowledge and the ability to be a phone call away for my children. I now tell everyone to learn GNM and to be grateful for each moment, and to try to move through each day choosing reactions, activities, and people that raise our vibration.