I Didn’t "Cause" My Child’s Disability—and Neither Did You

An explosive experiment!

Let me say this as clearly as I can: Tylenol and vaccines did not cause my child’s disability.

One of my kids has a genetic shaft abnormality that results in an intellectual disability. Another has ADHD. And I promise you—I have blamed myself more times than you, or any presidential administration, or any internet comment section, ever could. That’s what parenthood does: it makes us second-guess everything. We wonder if we could have eaten differently, avoided a medication, prayed harder, rested more. I’ve rehearsed every step of my pregnancies and every moment after, searching for the missing piece that explains why.

But here’s the truth I have to keep coming back to: It’s not my fault. It’s not my spouse’s fault. I didn’t cause my child’s disability any more than another parent caused their child’s Down syndrome, cerebral palsy, or cancer.

No one knows exactly what causes neurological differences like autism, ADHD, or intellectual disability. What we do know—thanks to decades of research—is that it isn’t vaccines. It isn’t acetaminophen (Tylenol) taken during pregnancy. And it certainly isn’t some moral failing on the part of parents.

Neurodivergent kids are not part of an “epidemic” that needs fixing. More likely, people with brains that work differently have always been with us—we’re simply better at recognizing those differences now. The real work is not in erasing neurodiversity but in reshaping our world so that it makes sense for the wide and wonderful variety of ways people live and move through it.

The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has reaffirmed again and again that acetaminophen, when taken as directed, is safe during pregnancy. More than twenty years of studies show no causal link between it and autism, ADHD, or intellectual disability. The American Psychiatric Association has also been clear: autism is complex and cannot be explained away by a handful of studies. Vaccines do not cause autism either.

And yet, every time misinformation cycles through the news or social media, it reopens those old wounds of self-blame. I already get side-eye from people who make assumptions about my kids. Parents like me are left fighting not only for our children’s dignity and inclusion, but also against a narrative that whispers we’ve done something wrong.

Here’s what I know: people with disabilities have always been part of the human story. What’s changed is not their existence, but our ability to name and understand differences. While some chase miracle cures or point fingers, what families like mine really need is support, resources, and communities that welcome our children exactly as they are.

When I look at my kids, I see joy, resilience, and passions that light up their whole being—whether it’s swimming or theater. Their disabilities are part of who they are, but they are not mistakes. My children, like all children, are the Imago Dei—the very image of God. Their lives are not failures. Their differences are not something I—or anyone else—caused.

So, once again, for the people in the back: I didn’t cause my child’s disability. And if you are a parent carrying the weight of that same blame, hear me—you didn’t either.

Let’s stop blaming parents (or Tylenol, or vaccines) and start building a world where every child—regardless of ability—is embraced, supported, and celebrated for exactly who they are.