...And no, that's not a euphemism. I want to feel what Avie felt as I jammed my finger down her throat to get the avocado out.
The first time she choked was on banana. And I know what happened- she took a huge bite and couldn't handle it. This time, I have no idea. Maybe it was the same thing? All I know is that she was eating avocado and then was suddenly choking.
I waited a second or two before reacting, thinking that she was maybe just gagging. But she wasn't. She couldn't breathe and couldn't clear it.
I got it out, but we sat on the floor and cried. I thanked God for helping me, and then I apologized to Him for needing to step in and save me... and for whatever I did to cause this. Too big of a piece on her tray? Not paying attention well enough? Whatever it was, I'm sorry.
She recovered though, babies do that. They don't remember things like that. I'm just so upset about it. The kitchen looked like a crime scene.... not because of the blood. There was only a little bit of that (I had clearly scratched the back of her throat).
No, it was because I could trace all of my steps. The bottle and bits of food on the floor wherever they landed, as I frantically raced to free my daughter from her high chair, turned electric chair. The clean spot on the floor where we held each other afterwards. Her bib, crumpled and thrown to the side because I couldn't stand the sight of the bloody bile she coughed up while crying so hard.
Why am I making this sound so dramatic, you ask? Well, aside from the obvious fact that my child stopped breathing.... I screwed the pooch today. You want a less "PC" way of saying that? I feel like I fucked up.
I am so tired of everyone telling me that I am being too hard on myself, by the way. So don't say that.
I had been feeding her every 4 hours for the last few months. Now, I'm told that I should be feeding her every 3 hours or so. Basically, she needs to eat 3 meals and 2 snacks. Well, what the fuck do I know? This is my first baby. Oh, and by the way, she has CF and has to take enzymes and I still am not exactly sure how NOT to fuck up the enzymes.
I should have fed her a full damn meal at 11. Or 10:30, or what-the-fuck-ever! Then put her down at 1-1:30. Hoped like hell she slept until 2:30 or 3, then gave her a 'snack' at 3. Even though I don't know what the hell a snack looks like for a 10 month old baby with CF and enzymes.
I mean, do I give her formula then? Well, not necessarily according to my pediatrician. Okay, fine, a small amount of food then. Well, how many enzymes does she get for that??
It doesn't matter.
I will fucking figure it out, but I am going to beat myself up about it until I do. And I am going to stress and I am going to ask a lot of damn questions. When I get it, I will be a pain in the ass, huge control freak, about it for a few weeks. I will not stray from the clock, I will worry and lose sleep... but then I will eventually ease up.
This is just how I have been functioning for the last 7 months, since I've gotten her home. Yes, it's hard on me. Yes, I'm probably shaving years off my potential life-span because of it, but... What. Else. Should. I. Do?!
"Well, you just need to relax. Go easy on yourself. And let someone help you, so you can take time for yourself". my response: "Go fuck yourself". You know what I need? I need to know that I've got this figured out on my own! I need consistency and I need a DAMN SCHEDULE!!!
I need it for the weekends, I need it for the week days, I need it for her naps and her eating and for my showers. Everything. I want someone to tell me what a typical day for a 10 month CF baby with enzymes should look like! Why is that so damn hard?! Just show me, and I will make it work for Avie.
I am so damn frustrated. I am tired and I am wearing down.
I can't go back to work because I can't leave this for someone else to figure out. I can't do that. That's not an option. It's hard enough for me- why would it be easier on a nanny? Well, maybe it would be- but then I would be a giant POS for not doing it myself, for my daughter.
You know what I need? I need to get out of my pajamas right now. I need to fold some laundry and I need to take a deep, fucking breath.
The CF clinic told me she was fat. She exceeded their expectations for weight gain, and in fact, want to slow it down a little bit.... you know what this tells me? It tells me that my crazy is working. That watching the clock and worrying about calories burned VS calories taken in, is helping her. I've done a good job. But this is a child, I can't take that as a "good job, Mom! Now go take a rest" No, this is more like, "Good job, Mom! Keep up the good work"
(Interlude)
Just got off the phone with the dietitian at the CF clinic. She made me cry.... she knows. She can tell by the sound of my voice what I'm going through. She talked me off that ledge that I've been standing on for the last year.
She said that she didn't want to minimize my anxiety. She knows how hard this is for me and how stressful it can be. She gave me tips for the enzymes. Help on the schedule and the few things that I've been looking for to help me win this food battle. It seems silly for food to be such a difficult thing to figure out... such a stress-inducing nightmare.
But she knows.... It just IS for CF mommies.
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