In 2015, I became a mother when I welcomed my sweet boy, Deacon, into this world. He brought out the best in me, and honestly, I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved him.
I was a single mom, so it was just Deacon and me. I wanted to be the best possible mom for him, so that started with endless research (or, what I thought was research) during pregnancy. I spent hours looking at different parenting styles, finding the best car seat, tips for breastfeeding and so on. You could ask me anything about motherhood and I would have the answer.
After reading articles on Google and seeing what the mommy bloggers were doing, I became one of those “all natural mamas.” I cloth diapered because it was supposedly better for the environment, and I tried co-sleeping to see if it increased my breastmilk supply.
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For my baby shower, one of the first items on the gift list was a Baltic amber teething necklace. It’s a string of Baltic amber beads supposed to soothe teething pain. It seemed like a natural alternative to Tylenol that would help my baby.
Putting one of these necklaces on my son felt like proof that I had done my research and was committed to natural parenting—or so I thought.
Deacon was such a vibrant boy, but he was also gentle and incredibly sensitive. He was just 18 months old, but he had the biggest heart. He was capable of being that energetic little boy running around with a soccer ball, while also being the kid in the grocery store who made people stop in their tracks and smile.
Life was beautiful with Deacon, and I was so fortunate I was to call him my son.
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‘I Didn’t Understand the Danger It Posed’
In 2016, I was looking at daycares, and I found one that was recommended by many people. It had great reviews and the workers seemed great, so I thought Deacon was in good care.
On the morning of October 5, 2016, I woke Deacon up and gave him his usual breakfast: eggs, toast and cut up tomatoes. I dropped him off at daycare that morning and little did I know, that was the last time I would ever see my son healthy again.
I headed to work as normal, and after finishing up with my customers in Los Angeles, I had a conference call in the afternoon. I was desperate to beat traffic and take the call closer to Deacon’s daycare so I could pick him up sooner. So, I pulled into a Starbucks parking lot nearby and joined the call.
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Even still, I remember having this weird feeling, like I was in a rush. I felt so anxious but couldn’t figure out why.
Hearing sirens nearby, I immediately left the call, packed up my things and drove down the street to find firetrucks and ambulances outside the daycare.
I knew deep in my heart that it was Deacon.
They refused to let me into the daycare, but then the fire chief came out and put his hand on his heart. He started listing medical terms I didn’t understand, and I thought to myself, “I didn’t know my son had a heart problem.”
My next thought was that I needed to get to the hospital.
I ran to my car and made my way to the local hospital. The daycare owner got in with me, and she couldn’t answer any of my questions.
“Where was my son when this situation happened?”
“Was he sleeping at the time?”
“Who was watching him?”
She couldn’t answer; all she said that was the fire department had to cut his necklace loose. Necklace, what necklace?
It couldn’t be his teething necklace because that was safe. There was no way that was involved because it was supposed to break if it became too tight. I didn’t understand the danger it posed.
Running into the hospital, I was confronted by the sight of Deacon coding, while multiple doctors worked on his lifeless body. Right there on his neck was a strangulation mark, consistent with the teething necklace.
For the next five days, I prayed for a miracle to save my son. Sadly, it never came.
Deacon was brain dead, and on October 10, at 3:30 p.m., doctors announced his time of death.
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The daycare did not call 911 or begin CPR immediately after discovering Deacon strangled by his teething necklace. Had they acted sooner, we could have had a very different outcome.
After losing my son, I chose to donate his organs in the hopes of saving other lives. I stayed by his side while doctors medically kept his organs working until recipients were found. Although it was too late for Deacon, he saved six other children.
‘Supposed to Help My Baby, Not Hurt Him’
There were a lot of logistics that came after, from planning his funeral, a rosary, to a celebration of life. My mom handled most of that, and as for me, I looked for the best attorneys to seek answers.
It turned out that the daycare had a history of enrolling way more children than safe. But after previous violations spanning two decades, they registered to a new address and started fresh each time.
Even after Deacon died, I was planning his funeral while they were still watching children.
How can a negligent daycare continue opening new facilities after repeated violations? How can a teething necklace marketed as “safe” be so deadly?
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I started trying to understand what happened and how I could have known the risks. That led me to research beyond parenting trends and product claims, and to learn from child safety advocates.
I realized that I had fallen victim to the crunchy pipeline—a dangerous way of parenting framed as “the all-natural mama.” Breastfeeding forever, making your own wipes, cloth diapers, bed sharing, home births, and the stamp of being part of this group is the Baltic amber teething necklace. God forbid you give your child Tylenol.
The crunchy cult suggested that beads around the neck were best. It sounds silly now, but I was deeply embedded in that lifestyle. And believe it or not, so many parents still are.
The fire was lit within me.
I started advocating online about the dangers of Baltic amber teething necklaces. I begged retailers to remove the necklaces from their shelves and websites (many outlets pulled the product soon after, but not all of them).
I started marching on Capitol Hill for childcare reform. I learned a lot in the process, like how many states require annual inspections of childcare centers, but in California, the state law requires an inspection at least once every three years.
My son’s autopsy took almost a year to complete. The entire time, I kept going back to the packaging of the teething necklace and reading words like, “safe,” “natural” and “healing.” The necklace was supposed to help my baby, not hurt him.
The autopsy showed that the teething necklace Deacon was wearing was defective. However, I still do not know what actually happened that fateful day, or how my 18-month-old son was strangled by the necklace he wore so often.
In 2018, two years after losing my son, the FDA announced that teething jewelry can lead to choking or strangulation, and they should not be used on children. The American Academy of Pediatrics also strongly advises against them, and a 2022 study by the National Institute of Health found more scientifically proven risks than evidence of effectiveness.
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'He Was My Little Boy and His Life Mattered'
Gradually, I began to see how much of the advice I trusted came from blogs, social media posts, and marketing. None of it was from fact-based evidence or clinical studies.
The more I learned, the more I wanted to better inform other parents too. Sharing what I learned became a way to help other families while keeping Deacon at the center of what I do.
In the years since losing my son, I have become a certified child passenger safety technician, a safe sleep educator, and a babywearing educator. Through my work, I also help families research childcare, understand product recalls, and make safer choices about baby gear.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that a product being sold as safe for babies does not automatically mean it is safe. I have also learned how important it is to check advice against reliable evidence, ask questions about childcare practices, and take parents’ concerns seriously.
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Parents: ask where a safety claim comes from, look beyond the marketing, and speak up when something doesn’t feel right.
Before you try it, verify it.
If you trusted advice that you later learned was unsafe, please know you are not alone. Parents need better information, not blame.
Talking about Deacon does not make me miss him less. But it gives me a way to say his name, share what happened, and help another parent ask a question they might not otherwise think to ask.
I hope people remember Deacon as more than the way he died. He was my little boy, and his life mattered. If our story helps even one family make a safer choice, I’m grateful that they listened.
Danielle Morin, 38, resides in Southern California with her husband Jeremy, their son Rhett, and their twin daughters, Brady and Brynn. She is now a baby safety educator and content creator sharing mom hacks and child safety information on social media.
Following Deacon Morin's death in 2016, Fontana police arrested three employees of the unlicensed daycare on suspicion of child endangerment. Investigators alleged the facility was caring for more children than permitted and that staff delayed calling 911 after finding the toddler unresponsive.