As a mental health counseling student, I often liken diagnoses to a sturdy tree trunk. At the base, there’s a singular, stable disorder, while various symptoms branch out, leading to a complex web of additional challenges and conditions. In our household, sensory processing disorder (SPD) stands tall like a mighty Redwood, casting a considerable shadow over our lives. One of the most daunting symptoms stemming from SPD is sensory eating, which has led to the frightening possibility of a failure to thrive (FTT) diagnosis.
There’s a distinct difference between a picky eater and a sensory eater. The most significant and alarming distinction is that sensory eaters would rather go hungry than consume foods that disrupt their delicate balance. My son, Alex, falls into this category. Many people assume sensory eating pertains solely to texture, but for Alex, it’s all about flavor intensity. He struggles with foods that possess strong flavors. I remember a moment when he was three-and-a-half; he accidentally grabbed a garlic-flavored cracker and, before he could finish chewing, his face flooded with sweat, tears welled up in his eyes, and he turned crimson. His body outright rejected the flavor, leaving him unable to eat for the rest of the evening.
Years of intense physical reactions to flavors have naturally resulted in poor eating habits and heightened anxiety around food. If every morsel you took caused discomfort, would you want to eat? For us, mealtime is a source of dread rather than joy.
From the very beginning, every bite Alex has taken has been prompted by me. “Eat, Alex.” “Take that bite, Alex.” “No, you can’t leave the table yet, Alex.” I remember thinking on a Monday morning, “Here we go, 21 meals to get through this week.” Mealtimes can stretch over an hour and a half, with him painstakingly chewing tiny bites just to avoid tasting the food. I’d stand by, striving to remain calm and supportive, but if I stepped away, he simply wouldn’t eat.
After much contemplation, I realized I needed to create space and let him find his own path with food. The stress, anger, fear, and resentment surrounding mealtimes were taking a toll on our relationship. I had to accept that he would eat what he chose, and that had to be okay. I couldn’t help him if I was consumed with internal turmoil at every meal.
For a while, this approach seemed to work. His growth was slow but steady. However, during our latest check-up, we learned he had started to lose weight. A seven-year-old boy who weighed only 38 pounds had dropped to a mere 36.5. This news sent me spiraling into panic. I found myself yelling at him in an attempt to instill fear—hoping to compel him to eat better and protect my “Alex-eating bubble.”
In hindsight, I’m ashamed of how I reacted. Watching him cry over something he has no control over breaks my heart. I promised myself I’d manage my fear and support him lovingly, but this only lasted a few days.
Can you imagine having to remind your child to take every single bite of every meal? It’s utterly exhausting. My anxiety surged back, intensified to a level where, every morning, I would yell in a way that fills me with humiliation. Each meal, I see his frail body, the dark circles under his eyes, and I can’t help but shout. I shout out of fear—fear for his health, his growth, and my own sanity. Guilt weighs heavily on me, as I worry it’s my fault for not ensuring he eats enough. I feel like I’m failing him by not finding a solution and I know that my anxiety only exacerbates the issue.
I desperately wish I could find a way to eliminate the branches of FTT before they overwhelm us, as I fear that this metaphorical tree might eventually collapse, trapping us beneath its weight. For more information on parenting challenges and solutions, check out this excellent resource. If you’re looking for ways to improve your fertility journey, consider reading about how to boost fertility supplements. Additionally, the CDC provides valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination, which you can find at this link.
Summary
The author shares her struggle with her son Alex’s sensory eating issues, leading to concerns about a failure to thrive diagnosis. The emotional toll of managing mealtimes filled with anxiety and fear is palpable, as she grapples with the balance between supporting her child and dealing with her own feelings of guilt and frustration.