In the Beginning

Thinking back, I don't think that there was ever a time that Pete wasn't itchy. We had to keep his nails trimmed so that he didn't gouge his scalp and leave bloody tracks along his torso. With every diaper change or bath, he would furiously scratch any and all bare skin that he could reach. Infantile Eczema, our pediatrician diagnosed. (Our skin is composed of epithelial cells and these same cells line the mucous membranes in our mouths and noses, as well as our lungs. When the cells in the skin get irritated, one has eczema. Irritated mucous membranes are what we call allergies. Asthma results from irritated lung cells.) We were told that Pete's eczema was just the way that my allergies and asthma were manifesting themselves in his body - same cells, different place. Sorry about the genetic kick to the crotch, buddy.

Okay, this was manageable. With a free Christmastime consultation from my dermatologist cousin (Thanks, Jim) we settled into a nightly routine of slathering Pete with hydrocortizone and Aquaphor. Most babies outgrow infantile eczema within 18 months; this was completely manageable.

And then we decided to start food.

Check out that rash around his mouth, and the swelling of the lower lip. The eyes that seem to scream, "Mom, why are you trying to kill me?!" (In my defense, I didn't mean to document the allergic reaction - hell, his baby book is a bunch of papers and his hospital bracelet crammed inside a blank spiral bound notebook. Despite my best intentions, I don't scrapbook well.)


I had given him a teething biscuit to keep him occupied while I was baking and he seemed to be digging the solid food thing.



Okay, he does look a little concerned in the picture on the right. Which was roughly the same time that I became concerned. Or hysterical. Call it what you will.


Pete got a thorough cleansing (while I placed an incoherent call to his pediatrician) and then we hightailed it to her office. After asking whether I had given Pete any Benadryl (I hadn't, but this will become important in the next "chapter"), we tried to isolate what could have caused his reaction. Let me tell you, there were so many unpronounceable ingredients in that baby biscuit that I didn't hold out any hope that we would ever know.

We now know. Would that it were one of those funky food additives that we could avoid by cooking from scratch. And, of course, we had to find out the hard way.