Food Therapy
I joked with some friends last February, maybe January, that I was finished just praying that G would eat chicken or peanut butter. I was done. I was just going to pray for a miracle, that one day he would eat anything I offered him. I was just joking, mostly, because I just was tired of begging him to eat every single piece of food that went into his mouth. I was tired of the battles and the low number on the scale and the talks about his chart and his growth and lets bring him back in three months, just to see.
Everyone is always so nice about rechecks. Big fake smiles to hide the bits of concern. It's maddening.
Fast forward to today. I can't really pinpoint what the change is. Lewis thinks its because the throwing up is far behind him, or at least far enough that he isn't thinking all the food he eats is going to come back up.
He also thinks it's food therapy.
I do not understand why the simplistic things she did, most of which I was doing variations of at home, worked. I don't. I guess third party, finally figuring out I was serious about eating, the timing thing, etc etc.
He ate a hotdog yesterday while camping. He ate all of his lunch at school on Thursday. He ate spagetti and chicken on Tuesday. He tried the pasta sauce. Oh he ate an entire serving of green beans on Thursday. Peas, carrots, green beans, and corn.
I am amazed. And proud.
It's not a simple process. It's not like I just put the food in front of him and he eats it. Can we touch the hot dog? Can we kiss the hot dog? Lick the hot dog? Lets try the hot dog. Then we count bites, because the therapist thinks he lets food sit in his mouth too long and it becomes unappetizing (I'm repeating myself, but I'm just so amazed that this stuff is working). Then if after ten bites the food is still there, we switch it to the other side of his mouth, chew ten more times, and usually by then it's gone.
Every bite.
But he ate the whole hot dog. He ate all of the vegetables. It definitely appears to be the right path. There's a long road to go, but I do feel like sticking with the therapy through to it's conclusion (or at least until the therapist thought she had done all she could), was the right thing to do. I mean obviously.
So forgive me while I pat myself on the back for not giving up and for making the assessment appointment, even though I didn't want to. And for going to therapy, even though I didn't want to. And for being positive about the therapy with G, and telling him that Miss K was going to give him tricks and help him eat more, because she believes his problem was mental and confidence and fear. And somehow this process has given him confidence.
I dont understand it, but I'll take it. And be grateful. Because this week it feels like an answered prayer. A miracle.
Everyone is always so nice about rechecks. Big fake smiles to hide the bits of concern. It's maddening.
Fast forward to today. I can't really pinpoint what the change is. Lewis thinks its because the throwing up is far behind him, or at least far enough that he isn't thinking all the food he eats is going to come back up.
He also thinks it's food therapy.
I do not understand why the simplistic things she did, most of which I was doing variations of at home, worked. I don't. I guess third party, finally figuring out I was serious about eating, the timing thing, etc etc.
He ate a hotdog yesterday while camping. He ate all of his lunch at school on Thursday. He ate spagetti and chicken on Tuesday. He tried the pasta sauce. Oh he ate an entire serving of green beans on Thursday. Peas, carrots, green beans, and corn.
I am amazed. And proud.
It's not a simple process. It's not like I just put the food in front of him and he eats it. Can we touch the hot dog? Can we kiss the hot dog? Lick the hot dog? Lets try the hot dog. Then we count bites, because the therapist thinks he lets food sit in his mouth too long and it becomes unappetizing (I'm repeating myself, but I'm just so amazed that this stuff is working). Then if after ten bites the food is still there, we switch it to the other side of his mouth, chew ten more times, and usually by then it's gone.
Every bite.
But he ate the whole hot dog. He ate all of the vegetables. It definitely appears to be the right path. There's a long road to go, but I do feel like sticking with the therapy through to it's conclusion (or at least until the therapist thought she had done all she could), was the right thing to do. I mean obviously.
So forgive me while I pat myself on the back for not giving up and for making the assessment appointment, even though I didn't want to. And for going to therapy, even though I didn't want to. And for being positive about the therapy with G, and telling him that Miss K was going to give him tricks and help him eat more, because she believes his problem was mental and confidence and fear. And somehow this process has given him confidence.
I dont understand it, but I'll take it. And be grateful. Because this week it feels like an answered prayer. A miracle.
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