Since Nahanni was a tiny speck of atomic energy pulsing within me, everything has been conspiring to kill her. I remember those breathless first weeks, afraid of every little thing, deathly afraid that something might kill this life that was quickly, but oh so slowly knitting itself together deep inside me. All along the way there have been things to worry about, the first 3 month milestone, the triple-screen testing, aspartame and water quality and nitrates and ... birth. It is a dangerous process, being alive, and it doesn't stop until the very end. And now, the latest peril...solid foods.
Not since the poor, delicate, sleep-deprived princess of yore has the humble pea presented such a danger to life. Since I first began feeding Nahanni solids, I have been terrified of her choking. I remember being at a mommy group and one of the little one-year old boys choking on a raisin and his mother looking up at us with abject helplessness before it finally dislodged and I have never been able to wash that look from my mind's eye. (Incidentally, the little boy simply stood back up, wiped his teary little eyes and moved on, completely unfazed...unlike the rest of us who took a good fifteen minutes to catch our breath...) When I first fed her peas I would nick the thin skin and squeeze out the tiny jade spheres and split them in two to feed her, one at a time, an agonizingly slow process that would eat up half my day, I swear. Gradually we were able to move towards other solids, tiny shards of apple (organic, of course, I wouldn't want to kill her with the myriad chemicals they tell us litter all our foods - it's a wonder any of us are still alive) and slivers of soft, mordant avocado. Feeding a young baby in winter certainly makes the 100-mile diet a distant impossibility and all intentions I have had for local and seasonal have been thrust to the wayside in favour of safety. I don't care that mangoes are not native to Vancouver, I can give her a slice and breathe easy while she gnaws away at the golden flesh. She has been rapidly advancing through foods, and I can admit that I take pride in the fact that my child is willing to eat some very un-babyfood baby food.
We have come to love a little restaurant on Main street called 'East is East', a funky little organic restaurant that serves Middle Eastern/Indian inspired dishes that are so delicious and invigorating that every time we go I drive Ez crazy saying 'Oh, I love this place - did I tell you that?'. We have fed her little spoons of spicy lentil stew, mango-butternut puree and mughal chicken and she hums her approval and reaches out for more. She'll eat anything really, and she is surprisingly unafraid of even very spicy food that one would not typically think a baby would enjoy. They tell me this will change, that she will begin to reject all these herring fillets and cumin scented chicken thighs and I will have a fussy eater like everyone else, but I am remaining steadfastly disbelieving. My child is quite exceptional, don't they know that??
Then again, all is well until you put more than one morsel in front of her. Then suddenly she abandons all reason and shoves as many of the pieces into her mouth as she can manage, and it is enough to reignite all the choking fears I have harboured throughout this learning process. Case in point, a few weeks ago we were working with apples again, although not the soft, pinchable chunks of MacIntoshes that we had been using, but the harder Fujis. I made the grievous error of placing tiny squares before her while I cut up some more avocado and she stuffed all of them into the little mouth which still contained remnants of the rest of lunch within its deceptive corridors. She coughed, she sputtered - but being a seasoned mom, I've seen this before...so I waited, and waited...but the sputtering continued and her little face turned red and tears spilled from her wide eyes as I realized 'Oh my god, she really is choking!'. A sense of panic welled up inside me and I berated myself for missing that baby first-aid course (see Rotten Mother 101.9) I flew to pick her up and POP! the offending chunk of apple clucked itself outward in a lovely arc and landed wetly on my shirt. She looked at me and I at her and I was so relieved I laughed and she happily joined in with me, her little pearly toothbuds gleaming green with avocadoey goodness.
And I breathed a little sigh of relief - the body knows what it is doing. Not to say that accidents don't happen - they clearly do, but really, the body is a very clever organism and it is very fond of surviving. I never leave her side while she eats anything suspect and I can feel reasonably confident that the chunk of banana that she is currently sculpting will not kill her if I move into the kitchen briefly to wet another cloth in attempt to minimize her debris field. One more fear somewhat allayed. Although really, it is only being replaced by the new fears that come with a baby on the move. So far she hasn't choked to death, but she is not a very good stuntwoman thus far and I have to watch her cruising very carefully for it seems that as soon as I turn my back she is most prone to head-banging episodes that leave her more shaken than hurt, but nonetheless with her very dramatic faucet of tears streaming down her pink round cheeks. Once again I say thank goodness for the cranium. Now if I can only get her to stop eating wisps of cat hair she gathers from the couch, or to stop poking her finger into little piles I've missed and popping her little finger into her mouth like some sort of dried food archaeologist I will be happy indeed. Ah, thank goodness for the immune system...
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