C had his emergency trip to the hospital in 2013, where he received his NG-tube and later a G-tube. I never imagined that he would still have his low-profile g-tube button 2.5 years later. The g-tube has become so much a part of daily life that it’s just normal. The only time I really think about it being different is when I’m asked the most common question of the past 2.5 years: “When do you think he’ll get the tube out?” Or, the less P.C. version, “So do you think he’ll ever eat by himself?”
That question used to sting a bit. Now, I just smile, shrug and say something about the amazing strides that C has made, adding that he gets the rest of his calories via his tube – and that is okay. Something that I’ve always wanted for C is for his button to be just another part of him. It’s not something to hide, whether at the pool or when it’s time to eat dinner. Body confidence, y’all! The day he randomly lifted his shirt at a family function and proudly announced, “I have a tube,” I knew that we were doing it right.
Different, not less.
Different, not other.
My son’s feeding tube has allowed him to live, grow and thrive. During Feeding Tube Awareness Week® 2016, I’m celebrating 2.5 years with C and his g-tube!
I am no longer concerned about the timeline for g-tube removal. It will happen when he’s ready and if it doesn’t, that’s okay, too. The feeding tube gave us the gift of watching our son grow and experience his childhood. Nothing could make me more grateful than that.
Do you know someone with a feeding tube? Here is an excellent resource to help you learn more about tube feeding.