[As you may recall, Claire reacted negatively to dairy when I gave it to her a few months ago. Hence, this visit to the Dr. today.]

I just took Claire to the pediatric allergist this morning and was there for 2 1/2 hours as she got her little back poked with needles of potential allergens (green beans, cow’s milk, eggs, peas, cat hair). She had to get 2 vials of blood drawn too which is just heart wrenching for me – I hate hearing her cry in pain and I hate having to hold her still as the nurse sticks a needle and tubing into her little arm. Poor baby. Her back sprouted bright red welts in reaction to both dairy and eggs so she is officially allergic to them and we have to carry an EpiPen with us at all times. That is so scary. The thought that she could go into anaphylactic shock and we’d have to jam a needle of adrenalin into her leg makes me want to hide under my desk. God forbid that it should ever happen. Yes, we’re empowered and prepared, but it’s still scary.

The good thing about these particular allergies is that most children grow out of them by 5 years of age, so it’s not the end of the world. What is the end of the world and what’s causing me to mourn, however, is the fact that because SHE is allergic to dairy and eggs essentially means that I am too – at least for as long as I am breast feeding her. I can no longer have dairy and eggs because it goes through the milk to her. EXCUSE ME? That means no more scrambled eggs for breakfast (goodbye morning protein that gets me through my busy work hours before lunch), goodbye cream cheese on my bagels (a bagel without cream cheese is boring!), goodbye chocolate, and, worst of all, goodbye homemade ice cream made with rich, lovely cream and milk.

This sucks!

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