Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance—these five stages of grief often emerge in unexpected circumstances. Who would imagine that a taste of vegan spinach quiche, made with “creamy cashew cheese,” would send me spiraling into denial?
After my daughter, Lily, was diagnosed with a dairy allergy at just 9 months old, I was eager to explore vegan dining. It promised no more frantic cleaning of her highchair to remove remnants of cheesy pastas or sneaking bites of lasagna while she savored her safe meals from Tupperware. I took a photo of this important moment: Lily, at 19 months, enjoying her first restaurant meal.
But then came the quiche. One bite brought hives to her lips, and soon she was crying, “Mama, my eye hurts.” Thankfully, the reaction faded quickly, but it sent me into a whirlwind of disbelief. I scheduled a skin prick test with the allergist, clinging to the hope that it was just a minor irritation from the lemon.
The allergist, however, confirmed my worst fears—Lily was allergic to several tree nuts. As he explained the implications, I fought back tears. Only about 9% of children outgrow these allergies, and we would have to avoid countless places—bakeries, restaurants, and even family gatherings. My world felt smaller, with each day becoming a battle against cross-contamination.
Friends and family tried to console me, reminding me it could be worse. At least it wasn’t cancer. But this was a lifelong challenge Lily would face multiple times a day. If she lives into her 90s, that’s over 98,000 meals she may need to navigate, and I couldn’t be there for all of them. The teenage years loomed ahead, where the risk of anaphylaxis spikes, and the very foods that could harm her would be tempting to her peers.
In search of empathy, I joined an online community for parents of children with food allergies. Over two weeks, I immersed myself in heartfelt posts that resonated deeply. One mom expressed relief that the school Valentine’s Day party was canceled due to snow, while another shared her son’s ER visit after an accidental encounter with peanut shells. Stories of anxiety, PTSD, and even loss filled the threads.
Just when I considered leaving the group, a newcomer posted about her infant’s reaction to nuts in her breast milk. She had followed all the guidelines to prevent allergies, and I felt her pain. An experienced member shared a graphic about the stages of grief and encouraged us to mourn our lost dreams of carefree parenting. It was liberating to acknowledge the sadness.
Now, I find myself in the acceptance phase. Food allergies are increasingly common, affecting 1 in 13 children, which is prompting schools, restaurants, and airlines to adapt. Scientists are working on treatments to lessen severe reactions, and portable allergen detectors will soon be available to help me investigate suspicious dishes, including that vegan quiche.
Yet, I haven’t entirely skipped the bargaining stage. From the moment the nurse performed Lily’s allergy test, I began negotiating in my mind, wishing for a way to cure or bypass this condition. Until then, you’ll find me at holiday gatherings with a stylish epinephrine injector holster, always vigilant.
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In summary, the journey of a food allergy mom is filled with emotional highs and lows. The initial shock can transform into acceptance, but it’s important to acknowledge the grief and seek community support along the way. With growing awareness and advancements in treatment, there’s hope for a safer future for our children.