My son's GERD

Thalia's pov

"What is this?" Ianth snapped in anger, glaring at the untouched plates across the table.

I glanced at the spread—scrambled eggs, toast, and yes, a small pile of steamed broccoli. I had been up since dawn: bathing him, laying out his clothes, preparing breakfast and lunch, all to keep him on schedule for his daycare.

"What’s the problem, Ianth?" I asked, emerging from the kitchen with a pot in one hand and his lunchbox in the other.

Ianth snorted in disgust. "I told you I don't like broccoli." 

"Sweetheart, Broccoli is a vegetable. It contains fiber and antioxidants. It is good for your health as a kid." I maintained a smile, arranging the pots on the table.

It wasn't the first time I tried to explain the benefits of what I include in his food timetable. But Ianth wasn't having any of it.

"I don’t want it," he said, crossing his arms. "What about my lunchbox?"

I handed it to him with a quiet sigh. He opened it—then hurled it to the floor, a deafening sound echoed in the entire house. 

"Ianth!" I called him sternly. I knew he had an attitude but not to this extent. "What is your problem?" The ground was messy with food.

"First thing in the morning, every other kid has a warm cup of milk to drink. There was none for breakfast except the green broccoli that turned my appetite down. There are still no milk candies or chocolates in my lunch box! What am I supposed to eat?" Ianth was already breathing hard because he said the words without stopping to catch a breath.

I stood up and hurried towards him. I held his hand and patted his back, trying to help him regulate his breath. Ianth has been suffering from a gastroesophageal reflux disease, GERD. Most times, he suffers severe heart burns and nausea if he eats what isn't good for his health.

"Mommy, can you please give me some milk? I really want some warm milk." Ianth looked at me with pitiful eyes. His mouth was pouting and lone tears fell on his beautiful face.

I felt so heartbroken seeing him plead for something he wanted so much. Ianth doesn't fully understand his health issues and allergy. Milk and chocolate are comforting but I am more concerned about his stomach acids. I made it a habit to always double-check the ingredients I make use of in preparing his meals because one misstep can lead to great damage and I can't see my son in the slightest pain.

"Sweetheart, mommy is sorry. You will be able to have milk and chocolate again very soon but for now, you need to stick to your timetable until your health gets better." I tried to explain to him while arranging his hair.

Ianth tore away from me and broke down into sobs. He has been spoiled by my husband. But he isn't to be blamed for his health problems.

"These days, kids are allergic to everything because they weren't exposed early enough." Mirelle walked into the dining room with a smile that didn't look genuine.

I frowned upon her presence. "That's not how allergies work. A tiny exposure to an allergy could be fatal." I defended myself. 

Mirelle has been living in this house for a few weeks and everytime, she pretends to help in matters that concern Ianth but she judges me with her words. 

"He is allergic to those things because you didn't feed it to him when he was younger. I tell you, that is the problem." Mirelle insisted.

I scoffed at her defiance. What exactly was she driving at? Is she trying to say I denied Ianth of those sweet things intentionally? "You can't understand." I murmured.

"Are you referring to the fact that I don't have a child?" Her voice got raised a little bit.

But I wasn't in the mood for an argument. I gave birth to Ianth and I have been taking care of him like a mother should since he was a baby. A stranger cannot just walk in and tell me what to do.

"I didn't mention that. Ianth is my son. Therefore, you should maintain your lane." 

Mirelle folded her arms against her chest. "Ianth cries all the time just because you refuse to give him what he wants. The boy needs comfort and it comes from these juicy things."

"Those things are not healthy for him."

"Oh, please. It wouldn't kill him. Every other child takes these things and they are fine." She scoffed.

I turned to her. "Are you referring to the time you tried to give him chocolate and he suffered heartburn for several days?" I fired, hating her guts. "I am his mother and I know what is good for him."

Ianth continued crying and no matter what I did in trying to coax him, he wouldn't budge. All he cried for was milk and chocolate. Why doesn't he understand that this is hard for me too? Well, he is just a child.

"I will take him away for a while." Mirelle suggested, almost pushing me to a side and offering to pick Ianth from the floor.

"No. I can take care of him." I refused with a blank look.

"It is obvious he isn't listening to your pleas. Let me try to calm him down." Mirelle was practically challenging me with her eyes.

I wasn't the type to back down but when I saw Ianth wouldn't stop crying, I allowed her to take him reluctantly. I took a mop and wiped the dining room clean.

"Honey..." Eirik walked into the room with a relaxed energy.

I didn't answer him at first. I was angry that he hadn't come down when he must have heard the breaking of things and commotion from upstairs.

"You have to talk to Mirelle. She keeps ignoring her boundaries, judging me of how I treat my son and offering to be a bloody good samaritan. Who does that?" I vented out my boiled up frustrations.

Eirik sighed, approaching me slowly. "You need to calm down. I am sure she is only trying to help." He said,

"Trying to help? She wasn't here when Ianth's issues began! Have you forgotten?" I was trying my best not to yell.

Eirik pulled me closer so he was hugging me. "Thalia, she has no idea but -- I will inform her." 

"You say that everytime and nothing is done." I heaved through my chest.

Eirik has always supported Mirelle. He saw nothing wrong with whatever she does, especially when it involves our son. Am I too strict? If it concerns the wellbeing of my son, I would do ten times more than that.

All of a sudden, a scream pierced the air and I froze.

"Madam, it's your son!" One of the maids ran inside, shouting at the top of her voice.