I see you, up late at night making safe cupcakes to take to the birthday celebration tomorrow.
I see you, reading all the food labels at the supermarket and quizzing the restaurant staff with tireless questions
I see you, wondering was it food? Which food was it, or is it just a tummy bug? I know – the guessing game is just so tiresome.
I see you, lying awake at night worrying, feeling guilt. The guilt. It’s relentless. Did I do this to my child? Could I have done something better? Could I have prevented that reaction? Could I be doing more to help?
I see you, hide your disappointment that your child didn’t get invited, because of his allergies. That she missed out, yet again, because of her allergies.
I see you, in the kitchen. Always in the kitchen, planning, baking, preparing, chopping, cooking. So much food prep, but without it, they would suffer.
I see you, holding open tired eyes, making yet another dinner when you wish you could just order take out, like everyone else.
I see you, with a forced smile and a heavy heart, as you reply ‘no thanks, we can’t eat that’ for the hundredth time.
I see you, do your best to mend a child’s broken heart, as they face the disappointment of not being able to join in, or eat the food. While you silently pick up the shattered pieces of your own heart.
I see you, holding your screaming baby, dropping silent tears down his back, because you know, that this road ahead will be long.
I see you. And I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for mending broken hearts with your homemade cupcakes. Thank you for showing up, everyday, even when it feels too hard. Thank you for asking the hard questions, and sharing the harsh truths. You were chosen for this, because you are strong enough, you are smart enough and you are brave enough.
I was you. I am you. We are all in this together. Thank you for joining me in this beautiful community here, full of love, support and of course healthy, allergy friendly food.
If you want a space to connect and have a chat, you can find me here
Love and Peace,
Kayla
