As a mental health counseling student, I often visualize a diagnosis as a sturdy tree trunk. This trunk represents a singular, established disorder, while an array of symptoms extends into a network of additional challenges, resembling branches sprouting outward.
In my experience, sensory processing disorder (SPD) has taken root like a towering Redwood in our lives, generating various symptoms that have led to further complications and diagnoses, casting an overwhelming shadow over our household. One of these symptoms is sensory eating, which has intertwined with the frightening potential diagnosis of failure to thrive (FTT).
The Distinction Between Picky Eaters and Sensory Eaters
There is a clear distinction between a picky eater and a sensory eater. The most significant and alarming difference is that sensory eaters would rather go without food than consume something that disrupts their delicate state of well-being. My son, Lucas, falls into this category. Many might assume sensory eaters struggle with certain textures. While that can be true, for Lucas, it’s the intensity of flavors that poses a problem.
When he was just three and a half, he once mistakenly grabbed a garlic cracker from the counter. The moment he bit into it, he broke out in a cold sweat, his eyes welled with tears, and his face flushed bright red. His body was rejecting the flavor so violently that he couldn’t eat anything else for the rest of the night.
These intense reactions have naturally led to poor eating habits and significant anxiety surrounding food and mealtimes. If every bite was accompanied by discomfort, would you want to eat? In our home, mealtimes evoke fear and stress rather than enjoyment and anticipation.
The Struggle of Encouraging Eating
From the very beginning, every single bite Lucas has taken has been prompted by me.
“Come on, Lucas.”
“Just one more bite, Lucas.”
“You can’t be done yet, Lucas.”
I remember facing a new week, thinking, “How many meals until Friday?” Meals often stretched on for over an hour as he painstakingly chewed each minuscule bite — small enough to avoid actually tasting the food — while I stood by, trying to remain calm and encouraging. If I stepped away, he simply wouldn’t eat.
Eventually, I realized I needed to take a step back. The stress, anger, and fear surrounding mealtimes were overwhelming, and I found myself withdrawing from him. I had to accept that he would eat at his own pace, even if that meant a slower growth rate. For a while, that approach worked, but during our latest appointment, we learned he had started losing weight.
At seven years old, he had gone from a mere 38 pounds down to 36.5. The news sent me into a panic, and I reacted poorly. I raised my voice, trying to instill a sense of fear in him to encourage better eating habits, believing this would keep him safe within my “Lucas eating bubble.”
The shame I felt afterward was overwhelming; I had made him cry over something he couldn’t control. Determined to approach the situation with love and calmness, I managed to keep my emotions in check for a few days.
The Exhaustion of Constant Reminders
Can you imagine reminding your child to take every bite of every meal? It’s exhausting! As I type this, I can feel the anxiety rising. Like a person relapsing after a period of sobriety, I found myself spiraling back into anxiety about his eating, now worse than ever. Each day, I look at his thin frame, the dark circles under his eyes, and I yell. I yell out of fear for his health, his growth, and my own sanity.
The guilt weighs heavily on me. I feel responsible for not ensuring he eats enough; I’m haunted by the thought that I’m only exacerbating the situation by expressing my anxiety and fear so loudly.
I just wish I had a chainsaw powerful enough to cut off the branches of FTT at their root, as I’m terrified this tree will collapse under its own weight.
Further Resources
For more insights, be sure to check out our post on home insemination and visit Make A Mom for expert advice. Additionally, Resolve offers excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
Conclusion
In summary, my struggle with my son’s eating habits stems from his sensory processing disorder, transforming mealtimes into a source of anxiety rather than joy. The looming threat of failure to thrive has turned what should be nourishing moments into a battleground of fear and guilt.