Health

What Glyphosate Did To My Son, And Why I Won’t Stay Quiet

From the moment my first baby was laid in my arms, motherhood captivated my heart. It was my babies who opened a kind of love inside me that I had never known before. A love I would die for.

By Serene Allison4 min read

But it was also the honor, the charge, the commission of motherhood itself, that I felt deep within me the moment I knew I held life in my womb. The moment I saw two pink lines on a little test. From that point on, something in me changed. A warrior spirit took root and that fire has burned ever since… it still flares wild any time something or someone comes against my cubs and it’s flaring now.

My husband and I moved to hundreds of acres in rural Tennessee, where we chose to raise our children in the healthiest environment we could provide. A hobby farm, our own grass-fed meat, organic everything, kombucha mushrooms and kefir grains, raw goat’s milk, and thirty-six-hour fermented ancient grain bread are just a small picture of the life we embraced to nurture our children in. But doing all that was not enough to keep a monster from trying to take one of my children down.

This was a monster allowed to prowl around unidentified, a killer hiding in plain sight. Its name is glyphosate. And yes, I am using strong language on purpose. The EPA will not, but somebody has to. That somebody falls to a mother. The World Health Organization called glyphosate “probably carcinogenic to humans” back in 2015. Eleven years later, I’m sounding the alarm. The “probably” has to come off. We know. And there are more of us than they think.

Yet something happened recently. Something unthinkable. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled seven to two in favor of Monsanto and Bayer. This ruling allowed two of some of the largest companies in the world to continue selling glyphosate without a label warning consumers it is a carcinogen.

The fact that it is permitted to be sprayed over our crops at all is a battle for another day, and the She Bear in me is already chomping at the bit for that fight. But for now, at least allow it to be properly described! Let its deadly nature be known in every household. I want it posted across every platform like a wanted poster nailed to a wall in an old western. And I am calling all She Bears to form a posse and bring this thing to its knees before it takes one more of our precious children.

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My son Arden was a healthy eighteen-year-old when glyphosate changed his life. It happened during an accident. He was hired as part of a landscaping team for the summer. It was fast money. Arden was thrilled. One morning, he strapped his container of “weed killer” on his back as usual and jumped over a fence, eager to get to work. The container fell forward and more than a gallon of glyphosate tipped over his shoulders and neck. 

They didn’t expect him to live the week.

Just a few months later, Arden stopped sleeping like an eighteen-year-old. He was sweating and waking all through the night. He lost weight, lost his energy, his throat hurt, his skin changed from a healthy color to pale. A scan showed tumors growing on his shoulders and neck. The biopsy confirmed: lymphoma. I remember what his doctor said, “Well, there’s good news and bad news. The bad news is that you have cancer. But the good news is that it is one of the easiest cancers to treat.”

The doctor was wrong. This cancer was born from a monster. Despite conventional treatment and all the alternative medicine we could find to throw at it, Arden went from a healthy, six-foot-five, muscle-bound eighteen-year-old, to an emaciated, tumor-ridden shell within months. It quickly advanced to stage four. He ended up in the ICU. Water formed around his heart. They didn’t expect him to live the week. His oncologist called it the worst case he’d ever seen.

But my son wouldn’t give up. He kept fighting, and he even kept his sense of humor when we could barely recognize his appearance due to the tumors taking over his neck and engulfing his face. He made it through that week, and then what ensued was a long, hard, seven-year battle. He ended up having more rounds of chemo than I, as a holistic-minded mother, can still bear to think about. In the end, he became chemo-resistant. They exhausted all the different chemo types. Scan after hopeful scan, and the tumors would always find a way to come back. Try to take him. Finally, he went through a brutal stem cell transplant that wiped out and then rebooted his entire immune system.

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I’m a fortunate mother. My son survived. Today, eight years later, he is cancer-free. Many mothers are not so lucky. Several weeks ago, mothers, farmers, doctors, and family members were standing on the steps of the Supreme Court awaiting the ruling. There may be plenty of reasons the court ruled like they did… but when you’re a mother, when your son was nearly torn from you, a ruling like this is not just a headline. It is a gut-deep blow. The monster gets to live another day. Gets to look innocent of all it's done.

This ruling may have closed one door, but it can’t end the fight. This same poison, potent enough to nearly destroy my son, is sprayed on the foundation of most of the comfort foods children love. The snack crackers. The breakfast cereals. Even the beloved porridge, the cornerstone of a healthy homemade breakfast. The three bears and Goldilocks would be furious. Yes, it’s on every conventional oat, every non-organic chickpea behind your favorite hummus, and countless other grains and beans. I have not even touched on the genetically modified crops engineered specifically to withstand glyphosate, just so companies can keep spraying and still bring in a harvest.

This has to stop.

If you will join me in this She Bear indignation, maybe the real fight can start. We mothers are a powerful force. If we join our voices, I believe we can eradicate poisons like this from our children’s food supply. Just because the court didn’t rule our way doesn’t mean there aren’t practical things we can do right now, even while Monsanto thinks it has already won. We can choose organic whenever we can, and stop buying the food they assume we will settle for. We can be bold. Hold brands accountable. We can ask brands plainly, “Is this GMO?” and “Do you test for glyphosate?” We can support the farmers who share our dream of a better world for our children. We can certainly make sure nobody sprays glyphosate around our own home landscapes. And please check the label on any weed killer in your garage. Glyphosate has many names. Our voices may be all we have for now, but together they are a force to be reckoned with.

And then, we can raise our mama voices in the courts. Call your state representatives and ask them to oppose pesticide company immunity from warning label lawsuits. Arden’s case never became a lawsuit, but he and I are still part of the battle cry against it. To date there are over 100,000 people who have sued for what glyphosate products have done to their health or to the health of their loved ones.

To date there are over 100,000 people who have sued for what glyphosate products have done to their health or to the health of their loved ones.

I want to fight this enemy with the same grit my son showed when he was fighting for his own life. He refused to let glyphosate win. Even emaciated, even when it hurt to eat because radiation burns laced his throat and esophagus, he made himself swallow bite after bite of clean, whole food to build his body back. He asked for an exercise bike to be brought into his hospital room so he could keep moving, willing his body back to strength. Today, he looks like the fighter he is. All muscle and mission. The fighting spirit that was once just a will, a refusal to quit inside a cancer-ravaged body, now stands victorious.

But the battle is not over. Not yet. Not until no other mother has to watch her child crawl back from death’s door.

Your will is all we need. Your choice to stand against glyphosate and the other poisons marinating our food industry and American fields. Let our combined “yes“ become the force that helps make America healthy again, that wins this final battle, and that builds a true and healthy world where monsters are no longer allowed to lurk unnamed.

Serene Allison is a New York Times bestselling author, and co-founder (along with her sister Pearl Barrett) of the healthy lifestyle company Trim Healthy Mama. Her newest release, The 7 Skills To Lasting Health, seeks to challenge health fads and provide an accessible path to greater health.