Monday, December 10, 2018

Jaundice and lice and all kinds of rice: My first week as a mum of three



“Mom! Take a picture. Look! Tramp’s giving Lady a piggyback ride on my head” shouts my oldest from the next room. The lasagna is done and I’m attempting to cut it one handed, a 5-day old Malcolm latched onto my engorged left boob. Nevertheless, I put down the knife, pick up my phone and wander around the corner to capture this miraculous feat. SNAP! #momoftheyear “I’m really nailing this mom of three gig” I think to myself, as I return to the kitchen and begin to dish dinner onto plates.

Without missing a beat Kellen emerges from around the corner, both hands violently scratching his head. “Oh shit”, I mumble to myself as I glance towards the head-lice notice tossed atop of the stack of yesterday’s crumpled schoolwork. My gaze snaps back to Tramp, the stuffed dog now laying in a heap on the floor at Kellen's feet. For an instant I debate not investigating further. “If I pretend I don’t see what’s happening, it will just magically disappear, right?!”

Wrong.

A step closer is all I need to see the speckly, black, infamous dots.

A postpartum wave of emotion that had been lingering just below the surface suddenly enveloped me.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, I state.

“Mom, that’s a bad word”, Kellen responds.

“Fuck”, one more for good measure.

So that’s how day 5 went.

Thankfully, I have an amazing support system who not only talked me off the first-time-finding-lice ledge, but showed up at my door within 5 minutes, lice-comb in hand, to pick through my licey-kid’s head #truefriendship #thankssteph.

Being one-week postpartum is hard. Being one-week postpartum with three kids is next level hard. The silver lining of finding lice on my 5-year old with a 5 day-old in my arms was that it instantly obliterated the unrealistic expectations I had unknowingly placed on myself those first few days.

In those first few panicked moments, as I stood in my kitchen trying to determine whether I wanted to scream or cry, I couldn’t help but reflect on the first few days home from the hospital. Why was I attempting to prepare home cooked meals? Why was I chopping vegetables I would have to nag anyone to eat? Why was I policing the amount of TV being watched?

Finding lice on my 5-year old allowed me to fully endorse the no-care attitude necessary to survive the immediate postpartum period. Having a baby this time around not only came with engorged boobs, hemorrhoids and typical new mum sleep deprivation but also meant dealing with:

Breastfeeding jaundice
Sibling jealousy
And, now. Head lice.

Something had to give.

So, for the last 4 days we have watched copious amounts of TV and ordered-in almost every meal. Along with pizza, and Timmies breakfast sandwiches we have eaten at least 3 different types of take-out rice.

Not having to prepare meals has been a refreshing change of pace. I’ve been able to focus on getting to know the newest member of our family while appreciating and enjoying the unique ways the kids have adjusted to life with a little brother.

So, to summarize, how has the first week home with Malcolm been?!

Jaundice and lice and all kinds of rice.

But all things considered, it has been exceptionally nice.

Welcome to Mummyhood, round three.

 


Friday, November 9, 2018

Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy, of course it is.


I stare at myself sleepily in the bathroom mirror, wincing in anticipation of what I’m about to do. I examine my shoulders, hoping to see something that would give purpose to the insane itch that roused me from sleep. I sigh, disappointed, no dry skin, no rash, just the bright red marks left on my pasty white shoulders from the 20 minutes of clawing away at them to relieve an invisible itch without leaving my warm bed. I soak two facecloths in ice cold water and slap them on my, now burning, scratch marks. The cold shocks me completely awake and any hope of keeping a toe in dreamland is dashed. But for a glorious instant, relief rushes over me.  

The itching started off innocent enough. I simply chalked it up to a normal pregnancy discomfort. It wasn’t there all the time, so I didn’t think much of it. But as the weeks progressed, I started to notice that it wasn’t random, the itching was got worse at night and it ranged from a mild scratch to “oh my god can I please just rip my shoulder skin right off”.

At 32 weeks I mentioned it to my OB, who sent me over to the lab to do bloodwork for a rare, liver condition that sometimes develops in pregnancy, Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy (ICP). Neither of us were overly convinced it was ICP because while itchiness tended to be worse at night (one of the hallmarks) it happened on and off throughout the day and, more importantly it didn’t present on the soles of my feet or palms of my hands (the most common locations).

However, if this pregnancy is any indication, I should really buy a lottery ticket because when the results came back, I was diagnosed with ICP; a condition affecting only 1 in 1000 pregnant ladies. ICP annnnnnnd Gestational Diabetes (GD), insane itching without the option of stress-eating? I hit the jackpot, lucky me.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with ICP, here’s an infographic that breaks it down.
Image from ICP Care
While ICP isn’t the worse thing that can happen in pregnancy, it does mean taking Ursodiol twice a day to lower bile acids, extra monitoring of the baby and likely an early delivery of baby Robertson. In fact, he or she could be here as early as 3 weeks from now! I’m glad I didn’t continue to shrug off the itch, because while being itchy seemed like a pretty benign thing, I’ve since learned that it can be a really big deal. So, if any pregnant ladies are reading this and can relate, let your health care provider know.  

While I was anticipating a bit more time to get the house in order, I’m also excited for this itching (and the diabetes) to be gone! The next few weeks will be a whirlwind of appointments, organizing schedules, copious amounts of online shopping for baby gear I’ve put off buying and perhaps even delivering a baby. I’m scared and excited and relieved all at once, and while only 1 in 1000 of you will have the unfortunate chance to experience ICP, I think that that cluster of feelings is one most expectant parents can relate to!


Tuesday, October 23, 2018

A Song-Inspired Guide to Gestational Diabetes



I hold my breath and stare anxiously at the screen. As the lab results load my heart sinks. There it is, that obnoxious little red flag. I don’t need to click on it to know what it means. I can’t tell if it’s mom guilt or the 4 servings of homemade mac and cheese I scarfed down for dinner that has settled into an unpleasant knot in the pit of my stomach. I don’t need a glucometer to know that my blood sugar is through the roof right now. “Damn it” I, so eloquently, muster up. Gestational Diabetes strikes again.

This isn’t my first go with Gestational Diabetes (GD). I was one of the lucky ones with absolutely no risk factors to develop it when pregnant with my youngest, Gwyneth. If only beating the odds came as easily for me when playing the lottery… after a moment of mourning all the remaining pregnancy cravings that would have to go unsatisfied, I refocus my thoughts on figuring out a GD food routine that doesn't completely suck.  

Diet controlled GD requires much lower sugar targets than other types of diabetes and because pregnancy only lasts for a [relatively] short amount of time, to avoid medication, there is a very steep learning curve to a GD diet. When done right, and once you get past the unsatisfied pregnancy craving rage, a GD diet can not only control your blood sugar but can also help manage weight gain and leave you feeling super healthy.

Receiving a GD diagnosis for a second time wasn't overly surprising, having it in a previous pregnancy is a risk factor, and as a result I wasn't as overwhelmed as when I received it the first time. However, when diagnosed the first time, my anxiety about recording high sugar numbers left me under-eating for almost an entire month during my third trimester, which was obviously no good for me or the baby.

So, for all my fellow mums who are new to the GD trenches or who may find yourselves there in the future, here are 10 song-inspired notes on surviving what I consider to be one of the most frustrating pregnancy diagnoses. 

1. Say a little prayer for you.

For your fingertips, that is. A GD diagnosis requires you to check your blood sugar levels 4x/day, first fasting and then again 1 hour after each meal. So do your fingertips a favour and share the love, poke them all equally. Bonus Tip: Given that most of us suffer from one form of pregnancy brain or another, I highly recommend setting an alarm on your phone for an hour after each meal or you’ll blow right by that hour, trust me. 

2. Just a spoonful of sugar.

Despite sugar’s bad rep, it’s total carbohydrates that you need to concern yourself with. Your body doesn’t know or care about whether it’s dealing with added sugar or the breakdown of carbohydrates. Fun fact, 15g of carbs equals 3 tsp of sugar. For snacks you should aim for 15-20g of carbs paired with a protein, and for meals you should aim for 45-60g of carbs also paired with a protein. Vegetables are free and can be eaten at your leisure (music to a pregnant woman’s ear, right?! Ha). To calculate your carbs, look at the total carbohydrates on the food label and subtract the fibre. After you got that, it’s just simple math.

3. Eat it.

Seriously, eat. Especially snacks. It’s recommended that along with 3 meals you eat 1-3 snacks daily, this helps keep your blood sugar stable and less likely to spike after a meal. I find skipping snacks leaves me hungrier and craving more carbohydrates for the next meal. The inability to fully satisfy carb cravings at meal time breeds one cranky pregnant lady (don’t do this to yourself and your loved ones).

6. Never gonna give you up.

You don’t have to give up everything you love. In fact it’s more about moderation than elimination. Make the sandwich with one slice of bread, opt for a 6” sub over a foot-long, substitute white pasta for whole wheat (or better yet a veggie substitute- like swapping cabbage for lasagna noodles). Just remember to load up the veggies and make sure you always have a protein.

7. Better together.

I can’t stress this enough. When eating your carbs, Make. Sure. You. Include. Protein. This was one of the big mistakes I made the first time around. I eliminated a whole bunch of foods from my diet because they “spiked my blood sugar and gave me high numbers”.  This resulted in an extremely narrow food repertoire and meal burnout. This time around I gave many of them second chances but with a protein (even just a handful of walnuts) and lo and behold, my sugars are ok!

8. Everyday I write the book.

Your dietitian will likely give you a sample meal plan or two, but for stuff that’s a bit more exotic and that moves beyond “baked chicken and steamed green beans” don’t be afraid to check out the world wide web and follow Instagram accounts like Sugar Babies GDM. Every time you figure out something that works and tastes good, write it down. It will make meal and snack planning much easier, and if you find yourself in the GD trenches in a future pregnancy you will have a food playbook at the ready!

9. Count on me.

When your tempted to just say, “eff it” and eat alllll the things, remember why controlling your GD is important. Think about who is counting on you to see this crappy GD diet through. While first and foremost, uncontrolled GD can increase you and your baby’s risk of developing type 2 diabetes in the future, it can also lead to large babies and difficult deliveries. You owe it to your baby, yourself and more specifically your lady bits to hold off on the cupcakes until baby is here.

10. Keep holding on.

Remember that for 98% of us GD goes away as soon as you give birth, so hang in there! 

11. Gestational Diabetes Song

For a laugh (or a cry) check out this link for a song about GD written and performed by fellow mum and GD sufferer Haven Burton.







Friday, September 7, 2018

3 Things to remember before you delete that #mediocre picture of your kids

I chuckle as I lock eyes with her, she about nine-years old. Her bangs, an obvious dull-scissors-in-the-bathroom special and her glasses, a nod to the cringe-worthy fashion of the 90s. Despite my judgmental stare, she doesn’t give a shit. In fact, on closer inspection I notice she’s wearing the hell out of that outfit complete with a smirk that says, “bring it on world”. My chuckle melts into admiration, this girl is happy and knows she’s going places.

“You wore glasses?!” I hear from over my shoulder.

“I did, but only for a couple years”, I respond to my stunned 5-year-old.

“You looked like Papa” he replies.

I laugh. He loves his Papa so I take it as a compliment, I mean what 9 year-old doesn’t strive to look like a 60-year old man?

As he wanders away, I snap shut the photo album I’ve been scrutinizing. I realize how lucky I am that my mom took the time to put this album together and that she captured the unfiltered essence of my childhood on film in the first place.

I pull this album out every so often to remind myself about the importance of mediocrity.

When parents of past generations grabbed their cameras to snap pictures of their kids, the emphasis was on the subject, not the lighting, angles, or overall creativity of the shot. There were no fancy filters or face-slimming, and eye enlargement technology.

In the age of social media and ever evolving camera technology it’s too easy to filter or even delete the imperfections of childhood. And this is troublesome given that, for most of us, Instagram and other social media platforms are quickly replacing family photo albums (special shout out to those who actually print pictures these days).

The most common argument I hear for sharing imperfect pictures is that “no one’s life is perfect and posting only perfect pictures can set unrealistic standards for other parents trying to "keep up with the Joneses”". While I agree with this to an extent, I also believe that most adults can appreciate that Instagram isn’t real life, and there’s always more to the (Insta)story.

However, here are 3 things I feel are important to remember before tapping that garbage can on those #mediocre pictures:

1. Your kids will be 12-years -old someday

When your beautiful soul hits those messy preteen years, where nothing looks right and everything feels off, you'll want to make sure they have a collection of “awkward childhood photos” so despite how self-conscious they may feel, they know that at least they aren’t wearing an oversized shoulder-poofed-floral dress with clashing red blossom hat. 
The Instagram shots you share today set the bar for the future. Try explaining to your 12-year-old that they don’t need to look like a model on a magazine cover, if the only pictures you have ever presented to the world are ones where they look like just that.

2. Your kids will experience “young love”

Family photo albums can provide a sort of relationship barometer to help your kids determine how “special” relationships really are. Their comfort with a person perusing a collection of their childhood imperfections can act as a litmus test for when they may be ready to bring them home to meet the family. The pictures you share now can provide them with some guidance that they won’t ask for later.

How un-daunting would it be to bring people home to see a pseudo-professional portfolio of baby, toddler and child glamour shots versus this?

3. Your kids will struggle with adulting someday

When your kids are faced with the realities of being an adult, leave them pictures to remind them that they don’t need to prioritize perfection and that they weren’t always preoccupied with what other people thought. 

Take this picture of me running cross country in khaki pants and a sweater as a beautiful illustration of this. Given my outfit, there’s no doubt that mom forgot it was cross-country day however despite outing herself as someone who may not have been completely on the ball, she chose to capture my determination to cross that finish line khaki pants and all.


I’ll admit, there’s nothing quite like capturing your perfectly made up child in beautiful light, but sometimes the spirit of childhood is best represented by disheveled hair, muddy pants and a lack of focus so make sure to capture and hold on to those ones too.




Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Take the Shower

My heart races as I slip off the breast-milk stained tee I’ve been wearing to bed for the last three nights. The water splashing off the porcelain tile is both familiar and exotic, I pause to appreciate the luxury embedded in each pelting drop. I peek over my shoulder at my newborn asleep in his bouncy chair in the doorway, “please stay asleep” I pray to the new-mum gods. As I slip through the curtain, the water wraps around me like a thousand tiny hugs. The tension drips from my body and swirls down the drain. For an instant, I forget about the sting of my c-section scar, my aching, engorged boobs, and the overwhelming responsibility of keeping a tiny human alive; I feel completely refreshed.



After five and a half years of mummyhood, this memory is still as vivid as the day I lived it; that refreshing while fleeting moment during my first shower at home after having my son Kellen. It was that instant that taught me the power of a shower.

As a new parent your life can quickly become narrow. It’s easy to lose sight of yourself and your own needs in those first few months of sleep deprivation. Chronic sleepiness can make it hard to nourish other bits of you that help you feel human, like reading books, getting dressed, or making and eating a hot meal. But a shower, even if it leads you back to the same breast-milk stained t-shirt, can provide you with the boost needed to get through another day of feeds, unexpected visitors, non-existent naps and unmet goals.

New parents (and even seasoned ones) receive a lot of unsolicited advice. Some of it’s helpful, some of it… not so much. But whether you co-sleep, cry-it-out, breast-feed, formula-feed, babywear or not, we all need to shower. So, here’s another piece of advice to throw in your toolbox:

Take the shower.


Even if the baby is napping and everyone and your mom tells you to “nap when the baby naps”.

I mean, it’s not bad advice, but you’re still going to wake up smelling like you just emerged from a three-day bender; not very encouraging for a person who may feel as if they’re slowly drowning in parenthood, if you ask me.

Take the shower.


Even if, rather especially if, you’re home alone.

Put that baby somewhere safe and go for it; worst case scenario, baby starts to cry. I can tell you from experience, crying (whether it’s yours, baby’s or both) harmonizes beautifully with the soft sprinkle of water bouncing off a tired achy body.
 

Take the shower.


Even if it’s after noon and you have nowhere to be, and no desire to go anywhere.  

Take the shower.


You may just be inspired to put on pants.

And let’s face it, that’s the real measure of new parent productivity.

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

7 Ways You Can #stopsucking as a Parent with Small Kids

I hold my breath as she grabs the glass of milk with one tiny hand; my eyes squeeze shut as the milk swooshes back and forth, grazing the rim. I hazard a squint only to see her other hand fumble to steady the glass. She lifts the glass to her lips and tips it up. I wait. She takes a small sip and wobbles the glass back onto the breakfast table of our favourite diner. I exhale into my cup of coffee, my death grip on it releases. She did it. My 3-year old drank from a milk glass in public and the world didn’t end. 

Now, I don’t really believe the world would end if my daughter Gwyneth ended up wearing an entire glass of milk. However, the way that servers throw piles of plastic straws at you through drive thru windows (or on the table when dining in) might suggest that they are merely innocent objects of convenience. But here’s the deal:

Worldwide, 1 billion non-recyclable straws are used each day.

That means that every day one billion tiny pieces of plastic make their way to landfills and oceans all around the world! 

If that doesn’t make you as incredulous as my kids were the first few times we told the server to #skipthestraw when dining out, then I fear for our planet.

“Where are the straws?! How am I supposed to drink my milk?!” came the pleas from my five-year-old, his face scrunched in angsty disbelief.

While the server shoots me a panicked look, I calmly remind him that he doesn’t use a straw at home. The reality is most kids (and adults) don’t. As the server scuttles away, Kellen begrudgingly picks up his cup and takes a sip. Surprisingly, he learns that his lips work in restaurants too and the milk tastes just as special; thank goodness for that!

As a parent of young kids, I get it; plastic straws can be outfit-savers and restaurant/mini-van catastrophe prevention devices. Don’t get me wrong, there are many times when I believe a straw is an excellent insurance policy, but the greenish person inside of me also believes we need to do better to limit our use of non-recyclable straws.

So, what’s a parent to do? I don’t profess to have all the answers, I don’t even have a fraction of them but here’s how we’ve tried to #stopsucking



1.     Have faith that your child’s cup drinking skills will transfer from one setting to another.
You can help by modelling your ability to drink from a cup without a straw; monkey see, monkey do!

2.     Bring alternative insurance policies.
A sippy cup, reusable water bottle and/or bib for car rides (and/or dining out) were musts for us when the kids were too young to be trusted with a regular cup. To be honest, we still use them when the kids are attempting to eat or drink in the van; those yellow lights really sneak up on me!

3.     Ask for extra napkins.
They’re paper, you can recycle them.

4.     Work on cup-drinking early.
Most parents are shocked to learn that babies as young as 6 months can cup-drink if you let them. Grab a bib and give it a try!

5.     Bring reusable straws.
With #skipthestraw and #stopsucking gaining popularity, demand for reusable straws has increased. You can go fancy and buy something like this from Unwrapped Life; or you can go the #greenish route like we have and simply recycle the inside straws from all those chewed up sippy cups gathering dust on the shelf of your kitchen. Make sure to invest in a good straw brush though, because if you’re anything like me you might not always get around to cleaning those straws right away!

6.     Carry a change of clothes.
Leave them in the van, under the stroller, or in that massive diaper bag you insist on carrying around with you even though your kids have been out of diapers for a year. Who doesn’t love a mid-event wardrobe change? Bonus: it gives you a good excuse to get some of those outfits worn before your kids outgrow them.

7.     Accept there will be messes.
Did straws really prevent all the messes for us anyway? I can’t count the number of times cups with straws and lids have been knocked off restaurant tables or dropped out of car seats only to explode all over the floor. Parenting is messy, life is messy, accept it armed with napkins and apologetic faces and move on.  

I’m sure there are many more ways to #stopsucking; and I know people might be quick to point out three million other ways we could do our part to help mother earth. While our family doesn’t always do as much as we can, this is a small and relatively convenient way to do a little better, to be greenish, if you will.

Have you tried to #stopsucking? What tips or tricks do you have?

Stayed tuned for more adventures in mummyhood, including other ways our family goes greenish.  



Wednesday, August 1, 2018