Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Firsts. Beautiful firsts.

I feel like I have to post because it's such a momentous day and I also feel like it's silly to post because no one will understand.   Zayd ate his first meal tonight. That might be hyperbole because there's probably been some other day where he ate food but nothing like tonight. Never a meal. Never have I had such a calm meal where he fed himself and chatted and smiled.

We had rubbed chicken breast, black bean and rice stuffed peppers, and Mexican-ish salad with "chips" crumbled on top. Zayd had carrots, chicken, plain brown rice, and quinoa and flaxseed tortillas chips. For the record, Zahra eats what we eat.

I didn't do anything differently. He wanted chips and was happy (eager?) to eat the other things on his plate to get them. He used his own fork. He didn't cry. There was no vomit or vomit-threats. It was peaceful and amazing. Rice! He ate rice! He has not touched the stuff in at least 90 days, maybe six months.

It was wonderful to sit through but I have no illusions that we're cured. I assume the vomiting will return. The refusal. The tears. Truthfully, the fear. BUT, I can see a light now. "They" are always telling "you" that the kids will "grow out of it". And I have reasoned with myself that everyone thinks their kid is the unique one who has something wrong and almost always everyone is wrong. He must grow out of this, right? But I've spent a lot of energy worrying that I wasn't wrong. That this was a real thing. A thing that was a sign off some other worse thing that would hurt my sweet boy. But then, tonight, he just ate.

You just can't understand unless you've sat night after night for so long with a lovely lentil who cries at the thought of most food and vomits in protest. We eat 14 minute dinners. I time them, an alarm goes off, and (the torture?) it's over. It's actually improved things a bit. Tonight we stayed a little later at the table to get more chips (and chicken, carrots, and rice). I never would've dared to dream it.

Here's the little guy who was "proud" and happily enjoyed his marshmallow dessert. (Check his hand.)  To prove myself not crazy here, I will let you know that he doesn't eat the marshmallow. He put his teeth on it once and that will likely never happen again. He holds his dessert and thinks that's good enough and gives back his dessert when he's done.

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