It was a normal weekday evening. My husband and I were in a rush to get dinner on the table so that our 2 year old would settle down and our 5 month old would stop crying.
We talked about everyone’s day as we ate, and when I got up to clear the table, my two year old walked across the room to pick up one of her toys.
I didn’t notice that she still had food in her mouth.
So when the dog stopped to lick her and she started to cry, I didn’t flinch. This was commonplace. She gets a little sensitive sometimes when he licks her face. Within seconds, though, while crying, she gasped for breath and proceeded to suck her mouthful of food deep into her throat.
She couldn’t cough, and started making a high pitching choking sound. By this point, I was standing next to her, panicking. I started pounding on her back and yelling “She’s choking!”
I had taken enough CPR classes in the past to know that she had a full fledge constricted airway.
My world was in slow motion.
I felt as if someone had glued my feet to the floor.
My mind was racing and I knew I needed to do something, but my body wasn’t reacting.
I then noticed this large figure, this knight in shining armor, fly across the room, push me aside, and grab my daughter from behind. He immediately started to perform the Heimlich on my baby girl.
My mind raced, “what happens if…?” I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t strong enough.
She immediately coughed and out spewed a large chuck of half-chewed meat and peas.
My husband, unphased by what had just transpired in our family room, started to clean the dishes at the sink.
I scooped my daughter up, placed her on my lap, held her close while kissing her face, and started to cry.
I am not an overly religious person, but at that point I prayed. With my daughter on my lap, I thanked God for my husband, his quick reflexes, and for the choking class that my husband and I took the year before.
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