Well, most of you know that during the last two months, in between end of school functions and blog posts and t-ball games and house keeping and bill paying and cooking and boob-tube watching and picking my nose, we've had quite the eventful and frightening time with Mr. Jakers. He had developed this little habit of wheezing. Sometimes it was just a little whistling breathing and sometimes it was an all out, tummy muscles squeezing to get air, low oxygen rate, limp baby kind of wheezing. So we've had three emergency room runs, two unecessary runs of meds for pneumonia, a laryngoscopy/bronchoscopy, and a million different theories on what's ailing him, but yesterday we finally got our answer: asthma and food allergies. Jake is severely allergic to milk, eggs, and peanuts. Each time we'd gone to the ER he'd actually been experiencing anaphylaxis- and it was the steroid treatments that were enabling him to get better until they wore off and we'd start the same routine all over again. And there I was, not knowing, and giving him scrambled eggs and peanutbutter sandwiches- sometimes even right after an ER visit or a doctor's appointment as a quick and easy meal for him. I don't have munchausen syndrome, I promise!!!
So today was the first day of knowing and being able to have a sense of control over his health and how to care for him. The only problem- all day I felt frustrated and scared and a little bit self-pitying, thinking what in the world do I feed this kid?!? I know what not to feed him, but it's rather difficult to figure out what he can have. It would be so simple if labels simply said "milk" or "egg" or "peanut," but instead it's "casien" or "albumin" or "hydrolized vegetable protein" along with dozens of other descriptors that all mean the same thing: Danger. And did you know that refrigerated chicken and beef stocks contain milk products? And even saltine crackers can be cross contaminated with milk? And pastas that don't contain egg can still be contaminated with egg protein from the factory? And that even the term "caramel flavoring" means it contains milk? Since we don't know how he'll react, we have to avoid it all- especially since allergic reactions can happen faster and become more severe with each exposure. So Mean Mommy is becoming Neurotic Mommy and surfing the web, looking for semi-decent sounding recipes that don't require $479 worth of groceries to fix one simple meal for a baby. Just as grocery costs are shooting way up, we're shopping the expensive aisles for odd-ball items. $12 for a gallon of rice milk as opposed to $3.50 for a gallon of regular milk. And if I have to drive to Anchorage to go to a specialty food place, add another $20-25 worth of gas to the total. Ay-yi-yi-yi-yi....
Oh- and did I mention that I have to eat this way, too, since I'm still nursing him? I could just quit- but he's the caboose baby and he's not quite ready (neither am I, to tell you the truth). Add to that the fact that breast milk helps develop the brain, boost immunity and prevent allergies, and you've got a mommy who's not gonna quit just yet. Hey, maybe it'll help me finally start losing some weight! No ice cream, no butter, no cheese, no chocolate... I'm on to something.
But even though I've spent all day lamenting about how hard this is going to be, and boo-hooing over not getting to eat that last bit of butterfinger ice cream in the freezer, and getting carried away visualizing resentful parents in his kindergarten class packing a peanutbutter sandwich for their kid in the next seat anyway (insert horrible visualization of my son gasping, ambulance being called, epi pens jabbing...), I'm ultimately very grateful. I'm grateful that each time this has happened, we've been observant and responsive- and so were his doctors. I'm grateful that we live close to a hospital and that even though the doctors thought it was something else, he happened to recieve the helpful treatment he needed as a coincidence. I'm thankful for our neighbors who played ambulance driver for our last visit when Paulo didn't have keys and I didn't have my cell phone. I'm thankful that a little voice (mommy instincts? the Holy Spirit?) whispered in my ear to hold off on immunizations for a while (two of them are incubated in egg and could have caused big problems). I'm thankful that with all of his odd-ball symptoms, nobody gave up on my child and figured I was just a hypochondriac. I'm grateful that we figured this out quickly. And most of all, I'm thankful that Jacob is okay- he's happy and healthy and thriving, and he'll rise up to the challenge of living with this little quirk. And because I love him- so will his mommy.
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