Mom Guilt - Why I sometimes blame myself

This post took me nearly 4 days to draft. Having the confidence to admit my shortcomings as a mother and feeling like I am giving my feelings enough justice with my words... I'm still not confident I'm there, but take if for what it's worth. This is just one mom's random thoughts about how we never feel as parents we are doing enough when it comes to our kids' well-being. It's easy to get into a spiral of negative thoughts and emotions when you are dealing with something as huge as an eating disorder with a family member. Wondering what actions you may have taken, words you have said or symptoms you ignored that added to their struggles.

The guilt is real and strong and never ending.

How we lost baby foods

I try to remind myself that his food aversions were present at a very young age. The gag reflux he had was so strong that when we tried to graduate from stage 2 to stage 3 baby foods, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't handle the chunks and the mix of textures. Early on, there were a few table foods he would tolerate, like grilled cheese sandwiches, french fries and chicken nuggets. These were things we would offer and while he did eat them SOMETIMES he preferred the purees. I don't recall anything at all happening that caused him to loose the table foods. (We are asked that question ALL the time.) I know now that if we go an extended period of time where one of his safe foods isn't offered, when he has access to it again he is less likely to eat it. Perhaps that was the issue with those early table foods; just too much time had passed. I'm not quite sure. Those early years can be a blur for any parent but being a mom of twins, events all roll in together and makes it hard to distinguish reality from daydream if I'm being completely honest here. I blame myself for him stopping his stage 2 baby foods all together though. At the age of 2, maybe 2 and a half or so, he was still eating puree chicken and rice and other varieties of baby safe foods. I thought maybe if I took those away and presented a table meal consistently each night, maybe we'd fix it and he'd join the rest of us with normal meals. We quickly learned that wasn't going to be the case. There were yogurts that he liked, one in particular was a Yoplait Kids Strawberry Banana that he called his "Mickey Yogurt" because Mickey Mouse was on the container. He also liked blueberry Nutrigrain bars and original Goldfish crackers. These foods were all he was eating the weeks that followed after my little experiment removing his access to the baby foods. I decided that it was better he have the wider range of protein and vitamins that the baby foods could offer than to worry about what other people thought if we were out in public with a container of baby food for lunch or dinner. But I was too late...

The damage was done... He wouldn't eat the baby foods any longer. So here we were with a preschooler who would only eat strawberry banana "Mickey yogurt," Goldfish crackers and blueberry Nutrigrain bars. And, I blamed myself.

Did I breastfeed him too long?

Breastfeeding wasn't something I was able to do with our oldest son. I had trouble getting started and didn't have the right people in my corner to work through the challenges of a young single mom. (My husband and I started dating when Jared was just shy of his 2nd birthday - the only real dad he has ever known.) So when the twins came along, I was beyond nervous. Financially speaking, I was in a panic that we wouldn't qualify for assistance and we weren't going to be able to afford formula for 1 baby, let alone 2. I struggled those days in the hospital and had a less then sensitive lactation consultant. That last day I was in the hospital and still struggling, she came in and realized she never did a proper medical history on me. When she found out I had PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), she pretty much washed her hands of me. "Oh... if I had known that we wouldn't have had to put you through all this torture. Typically mom's with PCOS have a problem with milk supply." And that was it. No additional follow up. I was just left to my own devices. Well, I was still determined, despite her negative attitude about it. I kept offering to them despite their frustration and then tried pumping while my husband gave them a bottle. That first day home from the hospital, I finally started seeing results from pumping and immediately transitioned them off the formula and over to breast milk. I was religious about it. Pumping in between feedings, even waking myself up to pump in the middle of the night if they were sleeping through. I kept at least 3 bottles of milk each in the fridge at all times for Dad and big brother to feed them and then anytime I had more then 6 bottles in the fridge would store some in the freezer for when I went back to work. I had so much milk stored that I used boxes to organize milk by the month it was pumped so everyone used the oldest milk first and had enough to keep them on breastmilk only when I was hospitalized after my gallbladder was removed. That first birthday came and I didn't just want to stop. Alex was already showing signs of eating difficulties with the stage 3 foods but at first it was more about just not being ready to stop after the difficult start we had. As the time passed, it became more that I was worried he wasn't getting enough nutrition. It wasn't until the boys were 2 and a half years old that I finally had just about enough of it and stopped. As his struggles became more and more severe, I kept thinking how I allowed him that crutch all that time to fill up on Mom's milk then to try something new. I recently brought this fear of mine up to a team of doctors who were working with us at our local children's hospital, expecting to have my fears completely validated but instead was given their upmost admiration for my dedication and recognizing that he still needed that source of nutrition. They explained I should be commended for that extra time and for doing it simultaneously for TWO and not just Alex made it even more miraculous in their eyes. (Because how do you tell one twin he gets boob time while the other one you shove a sippy cup of cow's milk at?)

Did I do enough when presented with challenges?

One day that will always stick in my memory was the day I found his "Mickey Yogurt" on clearance. I literally crumbled to the floor in front of the dairy cooler. Once I regained my composure and brushed off the weird looks I got from passing shoppers from my overdramatic reaction, I snapped a picture of the yogurt and put a plea on facebook to local friends and family to find and snag every last 4 pack they could get their hands on. I bought every single container on the spot. I learned of another store that carried the yogurt through my facebook plea that wasn't clearancing them off and started going out of my way to shop there to get his yogurt in supply. I wrote to the original grocery store, pleading that they keep it in their assortment. I explained his issues and showed them the amount of shopping I was going to have to take elsewhere if they couldn't bring it back all to no avail.

But then a few months later, it happened. The design on the containers changed. They were no longer Mickey Mouse clubhouse designs. Instead, they were some generic farmhouse. I tried buying Mickey stickers to disguise the change. That failed. I tried emailing and pleading with the company to supply me with the graphics to print my own wraparound labels at home. I think they just thought I was crazy. But what I didn't do? I didn't save any of the old containers to wash out and replace the yogurt for him and I regret that every day. Would that have worked? I have no idea. He probably would've caught me doing the switch and we would've lost the yogurt and his trust in me all in one fell swoop.

Did we completely fail him by discontinuing OT?

Yes. Let me just answer that by responding to that with a resounding yes. So much of the limitations he faces has to do with his inability to process the world around him through his senses. OT was something he was excited to go to. We worked with food without tears. Granted the food wasn't yet going towards his mouth, but he was doing what he was instructed to build his comfort level. So, why stop if he was enjoying it and doing well? Simply put... money. All these therapies, special supplements, doctors visits, etc all add up to a helluva lot of money. If money was no object, he would be doing therapies 2 or 3 times a week and we would have a full closet dedicated to keeping his pediasure in stock. We have done things at home to try and replace what he is missing out but it's just not the same. We have incorporated sensory bins into daily play. We try to let him do "heavy work" to get the proper sensory input that he needs to regulate. But life gets in the way and we're not always consistent.

Are we not being consistent enough? Or preventing change being too consistent? Consistency is going to be key... it's just figuring out if it's the key to our success or reason for our failures.

The mom guilt that resides in me says it's the reason for our failures.

It's all about a need of finding the right balance that works for him. Alex is a creature of habit. Routines are important enough with any child, but with one who has difficulty in processing what is happening around them it becomes crucial to their survival. When you add an eating disorder to the mix, that same rigid, routine behavior can be very limiting in trying to get on the road to recovery. Look at how we added PediaSure to his diet. That took 6 months. SIX MONTHS of consistent timers and dosing to get him comfortable enough to drink it. I'm talking every half hour setting that timer and every half hour giving him that next dose. That took so much out of us mentally. Do I regret it? Heck no. But it's tiring to think about putting that much work into trying to introduce one new food each time. But I am realizing that unless we commit ourselves to that again, we're going to be stuck where we're at not making any new progress. We are consistent with letting him make his own decisions about what to eat. We are consistent with letting him decide when and how much to eat. We are consistent at removing any stressful triggers to prevent meltdowns. That's where consistency is our failure. Is the act of coddling him too much more for our sanity or for his? Where do we draw the line? How far outside of his comfort zone is needed to create change? How far is too far that causes more harm then good? Am I a bad mom for doing this instead of that? Those are the questions I am constantly grappling with trying to find the right balance of support and guidance that he needs. It's a battle I have with myself nearly every day.