Allergen detecting glasses

Why am I so emotional?! 

Last weekend we went to Ikea.  It’s not normally my first choice in places to visit at the weekend especially when it’s raining, but I decided that to maximize my ability to write this blog, I needed a desk on which to write (it’s very nice, I’m using it now).  In our usual style, we got there late so thought we'd go crazy (in crazy, I mean by the allergy definition!) and spontaneously try to buy Zach dinner at Ikea.  I know….!!

So off I went to the restaurant debating how to phrase my questions and who to ask, but guess what?  It was easy.  The chef happily looked in his folder under allergies and together we read through all of the ingredients for each child’s meal.  Even better, because the fish batter might have contained egg, he said that he wouldn't serve it to me.  We settled on pasta and sauce.  I wanted to hug him!  I ran back to my husband with the news (!), elated by the experience and then began to wonder why I was so over the moon.

My friend Jo is another fabulous example. Her little girl was two a few months ago.  Leading up to her birthday party, Jo texted me with a full list of the ingredients she was serving and I mean full, down to the dips.  She didn't need any prompting, she didn't ask me to provide anything, she just told me how it was and wanted to include Zach in the party, like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.  During the party she took me to one side and showed me the party bag contents and it was all allergy free.  I felt overwhelmed. 

So why does it mean so much or am I just an emotional wreck?

I've realised that I spend my life trying to view the world with magic ‘allergen detecting glasses’, like those that show up bacteria in an antibacterial cleaning advert on TV.  Everything in me desperately want to see the smears of egg on the table, the drops of milk left on the highchair and the crumbs of biscuit left in the playhouse that Zach is now playing in.  I want them all to glow green so that I can spot them, clean them and keep Zach safe from them, but they don't and I can't.  It’s this desire for control that I, along with other parents of allergic children, have to learn to live with.  That's why, when the chef told me he wouldn’t serve the fish to me and when Jo took the initiative to think about Zach at the party, I felt such relief.  They took the control, took the ‘allergen detecting glasses’ and made the decisions for me.  Some people just get it.  Some people naturally understand your concerns, your worry about your child's inclusion, your worry about health and happiness, your worry about worry! 

When people do something about your child's allergies, whether it's because that's part of their job or whether it's because they are a friend, what does it do?  It discreetly and quietly shares your care for your child; it takes some of your anxiety and lessens it, even if temporarily; it takes part of the responsibility from you and helps you make a decision.  

Above everything, what does it say to me?  It says that I am not on my own, even for that moment.   I’m not an emotional wreck, I’m a parent and the relief I feel when these occasional people are so brilliant makes me want to cry.

So thank you to Jo and to Ewan in Ikea and to the many more of you out there.  Keep doing what you do because, you may not know it, but to me and many others like me, it means the world.

Love 

Charlotte x