I had anticipated this day since our son, Oliver, was diagnosed with a peanut allergy at just six months old. Now at three years old, I was still on edge. Until… I almost harmed my child.
It was a Monday evening after work, and I found myself in the gluten-free cookie aisle at Whole Foods. My husband and I were preparing for a trip that Friday, and my mom was coming to watch the kids. I was utterly exhausted. I picked up a box of vanilla gluten-free cookies, turned it over, and examined the ingredients. The packaging boasted “gluten-free!” and “soy-free!”, suggesting it was from a brand that prioritized allergen safety. The cookies contained cream, a new treat for Oliver that I thought would be a delightful surprise from his grandmother. As I turned to leave, I noticed the same cookies were also available in chocolate. Without checking the ingredients, I tossed a second box into the cart.
Fast forward to two days later at 8 p.m. Our two-year-old daughter, Lily, was up past her bedtime when Oliver spotted the cookie box in the pantry. He eagerly asked for one, and I agreed. Since they came in pairs, he insisted on two, and I replied, “One for you, and one for Lily.” Lily, however, took only a small bite before rejecting it. Oliver gleefully snatched the extra cookie, excited to experience the cream filling. I quickly took Lily to bed, missing the moment when Oliver told his dad, “This cream is spicy.”
Forty minutes later, Oliver was watching cartoons in our bed when he called down to us, saying he felt itchy. I rushed up to find him, and my heart dropped. The back of one knee looked like it had been stung by a swarm of fire ants. “What’s new? What did we just give him?” I asked Andy, and then it hit me: the cookies.
I dashed to the pantry, grabbed the box, and scanned the ingredients. Among twelve listed items, hazelnuts were the tenth ingredient—something I had completely overlooked. Panic surged through me as I realized I hadn’t properly checked the chocolate version. We quickly dosed him with Benadryl and applied the cream to his hives. I sat with him wrapped in a towel, apologizing profusely for my mistake while he reassured me, “Mommy, I think I’m going to be OK with that cookie.”
His eyes were red, so I put in antihistamine drops. I asked if he could breathe, and he said yes. I instructed him to take a deep breath, and he complied. I also checked his tongue; it looked fine. Downstairs, I tried to have a quiet dinner while Andy stayed upstairs to monitor him.
Suddenly, I heard him cough. My heart raced. Cough. Cough. Cough cough. Cough cough. “ANDY!” I shouted, rushing back up. The room was dim, and I turned on the lights. His eyes were swelling, and he continued to cough. “We need to call 911. Let’s find an EpiPen!”
Backstory: We had obtained an EpiPen prescription for Oliver back in 2011 after an allergist’s visit. Despite his severe allergies to peanuts, tree nuts, and more, the doctor had initially withheld the prescription. After some insistence from the allergy community, we managed to secure it, renewing it each year since.
Andy scooped Oliver up in a towel, and we hurried downstairs. I located the EpiPen and dialed 911. “911, what’s your emergency?” The operator’s calm voice contrasted with my rising panic. I explained the situation, and she asked for details. “YES, I NEED AN AMBULANCE, BUT DO I NEED TO USE THE EPIPEN?” I pleaded.
“Ma’am, stay calm. You need to do what your doctor would recommend,” she replied.
Oliver began coughing violently. “I think I need to use the EpiPen,” I told Andy. I was terrified of the effects but terrified of not acting, too.
As we were getting Oliver dressed, three firefighters rushed in, and one immediately listened to his lungs. “You have to use the EpiPen,” he said firmly. Two paramedics followed, one of whom held my hands with compassion. “Mama, it’s you who needs to do this. You must learn for next time.”
The living room was crowded now, with nine people present. Oliver gagged, and I read the EpiPen instructions again. A firefighter and a paramedic held Oliver steady. I counted, “One, two, three,” and tried to inject the EpiPen, but it didn’t work. I attempted again, but still nothing. Helplessly, I handed it to a paramedic who revealed the needle.
Now driven by instinct, I counted again and slammed the EpiPen into his thigh. Oliver screamed, and I felt like I had shattered into a thousand pieces. I cradled him, whispering apologies. “Mommy, I don’t want another one of those!” he cried. I promised him there wouldn’t be another.
As Andy stepped into view, Oliver jumped into his arms. The paramedics asked which hospital to take him. They noticed he was breathing a bit easier, but I couldn’t see it. They packed the EpiPen and the cookie box and took Oliver away in the ambulance. I stood by, crying, fearing what could have happened if I hadn’t been there.
That night, while fearing the worst, I couldn’t shake the “what ifs.” What if it had happened while we were away? What if he’d fallen asleep? The thoughts haunted me. Andy texted me at midnight, saying they were staying at the hospital till morning. I finally fell asleep, only to wake at 4 a.m. to relive every moment.
The next morning, I picked them up from the emergency room. As we drove home, Oliver excitedly asked if he could have the same cookies from the hospital. “Sure, buddy. Anything you want!” I replied, though I felt a pang of guilt.
Hours later, after spending the morning in tears and seeking support from other parents online, I learned that allergic reactions can rebound after the medicine wears off. I immediately reached out to Andy with the news. We needed to inform the school to ensure they were aware and prepared.
By the end of the day, we faced another call from the school about Oliver feeling itchy. Andy rushed to pick him up, the cycle of fear and love continuing.
In parenting, moments of crisis can teach you invaluable lessons, but they also leave scars. We must always remain vigilant, especially when it comes to our children’s health. For additional resources on navigating food allergies and home insemination, check out Kids With Food Allergies and The Center for Reproductive Health.
Summary
A mother’s harrowing experience with her son’s allergic reaction to cookies serves as a poignant reminder of the importance of vigilance in parenting, especially concerning food allergies. Through a series of panic-stricken moments, she learns the critical need for knowledge and preparedness in managing her child’s health challenges.