Here are the songbirds before the episode!
That sentence gives me strength and fear at the same time. Yesterday I saved my daughter’s life.
I have been terrified of one of my children choking to death for 4 years, ever since the eldest was born. I’m also terrified that one of them will be hit by a car. And one of those events happened: Willow choked.
We had had an amazing morning with Willow (2.5 years), her brother (4.5 years) and Papa Tree singing at a senior citizen’s home in Bay Ridge. It was a morning that makes you proud as a parent- watching your children try something out for the first time and whether or not they are any good, try it with earnestness.
We left and headed to Hinsch’s diner for some middling diner fare and hand-made lollipops. Willow and Birch both ordered waffles with strawberries on top. The strawberries weren’t plump fresh ones, but, rather, defrosted, slick strawberries that slipped all over the plate. Willow popped one in her mouth while she was sitting on my lap. I wasn’t thinking. We were all eating and then I heard some strange gurgling sound come from her and Papa Tree who was sitting across from me yelled, “she’s choking!”
I jumped up from the booth, holding her and screamed, “help me!” to Papa Tree, sure that I couldn’t possibly thump the embedded strawberry out of her esophagus. But Papa Tree was stuck in the booth for a moment, crushed behind my son and a slew of coats, reaching for her…… and I knew there wasn’t time. Incredibly, I remembered my CPR class from 3.5 years ago. I put one arm under her stomach and with my other, whacked her back a few times before “shlump!”, the strawberry flew out. The diners around us all collectively breathed a sigh of relief and one senior whispered to her companion, “she knew just what to do.” I heard that like a small echo in my ear, and thought, “who? me?”
Willow collapsed into tears and curled into me and I teetered a bit before landing back into the diner booth. We calmed her down and moved on with lunch. But not really. I asked Papa Tree, “did I do it? Did I get the strawberry out of her?” “Yes,” he said, “I’m really proud of you, you did it.” One thing you have to know about my husband: he is so generous that he will tell me how proud he is of me for the smallest thing I do..so you see, I couldn’t trust his answer completely. A few minutes later, I asked, “did I do it by myself or did you do it with me? I can’t remember how it happened. Did you help me?” He looked at me strangely. The truth was that not only could I not remember if I had done it, or how I had done it, I couldn’t believe that I had actually done it.
But I did do it, all by myself. So, I feel strength and still, yes, fear. So, I’m going to sign up for a CPR refresher course in case it happens again, to my older son or to my daughter again, or anyone else.