Get tips on how to create your better way. It's free!  

Given email address is already subscribed, thank you!
Oops. Something went wrong. Please try again later.
Please provide a valid email address.
Thank you, your sign-up request was successful! Please check your e-mail inbox.
Please complete the CAPTCHA.
Please fill in the required fields.

A Precarious Invitation

Precarious Invitation

I asked my daughter to bring in the mail the other day. She comes running in jumping up and down with a huge smile across her face. “Mom!!  It’s a birthday invitation for me! Can I go, can I go, please?”

Under normal circumstances, I would say yes in a heartbeat, but my daughter’s circumstances are anything but normal. I am now faced with a decision. Do I tell her “no” and deal with her bitterness, her complete melt down, her not understanding why all the other kids can go but she can’t? Her screaming at me “I HATE MY NUT ALLERGY! Why do I have to have it?” Do I take the easy way out and just say no?
 
Or, do I do what I have done in the past for the sake of my daughter and some form of “normalcy” in her life. I call the mom of the birthday child and let them know about her allergy. I ask what they are serving. Did she make the cake or buy it? If she made it, what brand? If it was ordered, where from? I need to check the ingredients. If it’s not safe, I ask if my daughter can bring her own cake or cupcakes. I ask what ice cream they will be serving. If it’s anything with nuts, I have to ask her to either change the ice cream, or my daughter will not be able to attend. I find out what is in the treat bags. What candy they will be having. What snacks are they giving out? Then comes the really fun part. I get to ask the mom if I can arrive 15 minutes early to go over EpiPen training and tell her what to look for in the case of a reaction and when she should call 911 and give my daughter the shot. I tell her that it’s possible for my daughter to begin throwing up violently, shaking, develop hives, and stop breathing all while her birthday child is happily eating cake.  I let her know that it takes about seven minutes for my daughter to stop breathing. Then I wait — for the inevitable pause on the end of the phone line.
 
Drama huh? Not really. Not when it’s a daily thing. I feel like as a mom I’ve become a little callous. I may be a little rude to some people; I may be forceful and demanding. I understand if another parent feels it’s too much of a risk to have my daughter attend, and those are the nights when she gets a little toy and a special night out with mom, dad and her brother. My daughter knows the truth; we don’t lie to her or sugarcoat it. We still buy a birthday present and drop it off so my daughter feels included. She will understand, someday when she is older, that we can’t expect other people to take on the responsibility of her allergy. All we can do is be strong, be diligent, and be forever thankful and grateful for the parents that understand and make accommodations for my daughter. To those people, you know who are, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. To the ones who just can’t take on the responsibility, it’s okay. We understand.

Author: Kelly

You may also like:

Discovering My Daughter’s Nut Allergy
Traveling with Nut Allergies
The Worst Day Of My Life

 

Comments are closed.