So 27th May 2014, we introduced chicken, potato and carrots! Just ten grams mixed with butter and milk. His first taste of meat and vegetables, aged two and two months!
I knew from first weaning Mike that there was something different, at six months old he would hide his face, close his eyes and scream. Any food you got in to his mouth, he would hold at the front and spit out, he would wretch at smells and at one stage became so sensitive we couldn’t lie him down as the sensation of a cotton sheet, was too aggravating for him.
Every professional we met, found it hard to believe and I lived in a desperate cycle of a baby that was failing to thrive but nobody had any idea what to do. I now know Michael has developmental delay, this delay is in his feeding too, so the diet we are weaning Michael on to, is developmental age appropriate. The delay, combined with his sensory sensitivities make feeding more of a challenge for Mike, than most children; yet I’ve spent hours and hours struggling at home, unsupported trying to wean him.
At one stage (pre Clarissa) we had thirteen professionals trying to find a solution to the problem of Mike’s feeding. We did lots of talking, had lots of meetings, filled out plenty of paperwork but we never got anywhere. I said over and over again, can somebody spend half a day with us at home, to understand how serious and difficult things are, yet nobody ever took me up on it.
Ahead of 27th May, Clarissa asked me to get a potato, a carrot and a bit of chicken ready cooked for her arrival, we were ‘going in to battle’ together. Clarissa helped me puree the chicken, gave me clear guidance of how to blend and what to include in the mix and explained we only give a small taste, so as not to overwhelm him and off we went.
Mike wretched, he gagged, he vomited but he giggled too and ultimately ate the chicken. The beauty of our technique is that we are patient, consistent and calm, and all of that pays off in Michael. With Clarissa right next to me, I fed him myself with her reassurance in my ear that wiping up the vomit and feeding through the tears, was helping Michael forwards.
As Clarissa left us after lunch, it struck me how much fun I’d had, doing something very normal with my little boy. Being led by a professional has been desperately needed for such a long time, Mike’s feeding is complicated. There’s no getting away from that but finally I’m not on my own in this one and finally Mike is moving on.
