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By: Holly Nace | AFAA Editorial Contributor
I was a young mother, with an incredibly sick child who was not being listened to.
I should have listened.

I knew there was something wrong with my young son.  Appointment after appointment I allowed myself to be quieted by a doctor that was sure I was over-reacting.

What should have been my breaking point was when we rushed to the Emergency Room with our little boy, who was in anaphylaxis shock. Only to return to our Pediatrician, one that we had researched, believed in and trusted with our little one's life, to be shushed again.  It was a freak incident.  "Don't let him have that food." He said.  I felt defeated.

I begged for a prescription for an Epi-Pen.  He said that my son was not big enough for one. My son was over 28 lbs and I was refused a life-saving measure that I felt we desperately needed.  I told them how the E.R. Doctor's said we had just made it in time. WE HAD JUST MADE IT IN TIME. My Pediatrician didn't bat an eye.

All of the memories, the helplessness, and the terror come back to me.  With what I know now, I am ashamed that I did not act sooner.

My young son looked like he was sick on more days than he looked healthy. I asked our Pediatrician if we should be wary of any other trigger foods.  I was extremely hesitant to try peanut butter. I even told our Pediatrician that if and when I had my little boy try peanut butter that we would be in the parking lot of Phoenix Children's Hospital. He laughed at me.  He laughed at me in that small room as I clutched onto my little man.

I was done. I was done being talked down to.  Being talked at, instead of listened to.  I was a young mother, with an incredibly sick child who was not being listened to.

The first visit with our new Pediatrician was for my brand-new baby girl's well visit.  My son was not even present and I told her just a snippet of our history with his illnesses. She immediately gave me an order for allergy testing and a prescription for an Epi-Pen.  I bawled into my new little girl's receiving blanket.  I was just so thankful that she listened, she cared. She assured me that we would figure out what was wrong with him, no matter what. 

I should have listened to the self-doubt, that there was something wrong with my child.  My intuition told me there was an answer.  I let a medical professional make me believe that I didn't know what was best for my child.  That I was overreacting.  I am my child's advocate, their champion, and mother.

My little man is allergic to over twenty-five different foods.  The majority of which were staples in his diet. He is indeed highly-allergic to peanut butter and I am thankful that I at least listened to the tiny voice that said we don't need to try that food.  I did listen.

 


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