Yesterday I was home with girls. It was a rainy, dreary Friday and we did a whole lot of nothing. Just as the girls were finishing up lunch, I started preparing a noodle dish for supper that I could throw into the oven later on in the day. Davilyn had gone off to the living room and Piper was at the table peeling an orange. Quinn was still in her high chair finishing her lunch.
I turned around to face the stove and then heard this quiet but awful hacking sound. I turned to see Piper standing at the garbage. Her eyes as big as saucers. I asked her if she was okay but she couldn’t respond to me. I realized quickly that she was choking and that she wasn’t able to cough it out.
I always wondered how I would react in a situation where one of my children were choking. Now I know.
I quickly turned her around, place my arms around her and squeezed her. After the second one, out came the orange and I could hear Piper take a deep breath. I asked her if she was okay. She was.
I, however, was not. Not by a long shot. It took the rest of the day/evening for me to relax after that. What if I had been in the other room? What if I didn’t get to her in time.
My life would have changed in an instant.