When my son, Raine was little, he put a piece of cereal in his mouth and began to cry and I knew something wasn't right. By the time we got to the hospital, his airways had completely closed, he had stopped crying, his little gasps for air stopped. Holding his limp body, I ran into the the emergency room, hysterically screaming over and over, "My baby isn't breathing!"
We were rushed through the doors as doctors and nurses sprang to action. I remember them cutting his clothes off as they administered epinephrin. And then, just as suddenly as it all started, I was sitting in a hospital room, holding him tightly and rocking him back and forth as he slept as if nothing had just happened.
Every family who has a loved one with a life-threatening food allergy knows the fear and the pain of living each day surrounded by foods that could be their last breath.
I knew we needed to do better.