The end of the school year.....I think?

It's the last final days of the school year, but it doesn't feel or look the same. The kids are not putting together teacher gifts, they aren't able to say their goodbyes to their friends for the summer. There isn't any end of the year class parties. There is no "school's out for summer" blasting over the P.A system. There isn't joy like there normally is.

Instead we have Google meet farewells. We have electronic memory books of the year being made. We have chat groups to say goodbye to friends for the summer. The last day of school is not going to be special. It's going to feel like any other day that the kids have had in the past three and half months.

COVID-19 has changed everything about our lives. It has changed everything about a normal childhood. It has made parenting almost impossible some days. And to be honest I'm not sure how we all survived since March. This wasn't anything I ever had in mind when I became a parent. My patience has been tested almost on a daily basis. I have had to try teaching my kids math and language with younger siblings in the background screaming and crying. I have seen my son withdraw from almost everything in life because his social life has been stripped away from him. I have seen my daughter struggle each day to understand her work. I have cried, my kids have cried. I've lost track of the days on more then one account.

But we are all still here.

We are all healthy.

My kids have not seen the inside of a store since March. They have been kept away from friends and being able to go play on playgrounds. They have only been able to play with their siblings, and let's be honest that doesn't always go well. There have been plenty of fights.

My kids need to be in a school setting. They need that in person lesson from a teacher. They need their supports and daily routines that they get from school. They need to interact with kids their age.

We have made it to the end of the school year, but at what cost?

I know it was in their best interest health wise to be at home, but what about their mental health? What about developmentally wise? How much extra help are they going to need when they return to school and is there going to be enough supports in the schools to help with all these needs from kids when they return?

These past few months have been like no other, and I hope that when the kids look back on this time that they realize how strong and resilient they were to adapt to a whole new world.

Stay healthy!

Reflection

In just a couple of short weeks Miles will be turning one. And I sit here reflecting on the past year and how as a person I have struggled and grown.

This past year after Miles was born I feel like I lost myself. I wasn't myself. I didn't feel joy. I felt like I was just going through the motions of the day. I lost friends that I thought were close good friends. I felt more alone then I ever have in my life.

I struggled on a daily basis. I wasn't sure how I was going to get through many days, but somehow I did. I had many sleepless nights. Some with barely getting three hours of sleep. I reached a whole new level of sleep deprevation.

I cried.

A lot.

This past winter was a very dark time for me. I wasn't present for Christmas. I felt like I was in a fog. I feel like I was robbed of many moments with Miles as a newborn. There are some days I can't remember at all.

But things have changed. I came out of the fog. I started crying less. I started remembering moments more. I started being present more. I started laughing more.

I felt joy.

I started making time for me.

Self care. I have learned its such an important thing. And I have learned that making time for something for just me is important to make myself a better Mom and a better person. So I started running again.

I have the visable scars from giving birth, but I also have the invisable scars that no one can see from this past year and all that I went through.

These days I soak up every moment with Miles as I know that these are all firsts for him and lasts for me. I don't want to miss another moment because I get caught in the fog again. I have learned and I have grown this past year and I will not let myself be dragged back into the darkness.

This song "Rise Up" by Andra Day has really spoke to me this past year. It took on a different meaning for me. I will rise up each day to be there for my kids. I will rise up and be present.

PPD took a lot from me this past year, but I won't let it take anything else away from me.

There's the light

It's been almost three months since Miles was born and I honestly didn't know if the days were going to get better. I would get small moments during the day where I could catch my breath. I felt like most days I was drowning. I felt like as a new mom I was being robbed of times where I should be happy and filled with joy with this new life I had brought into this world. I didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel, I only saw darkness.

But here we are and there is a light starting to appear. Slowly, but surely things are starting to become more normal. We are slowly starting to find a groove. I am angry less. I don't cry as much. I feel a little more "normal". I did a light version of sleep training with Miles because I wasn't getting sleep and he wasn't getting sleep and I just wasn't able to function.

I feel a closer bond to my son now. He smiles at me all day long. We are still successfully breastfeeding (this is the longest I have ever breastfed one of my kids for!) And there was for sure a turning point with Miles and I. It happened this past weekend. I was home alone with the kids. The two oldest were across the street playing with friends and Nora and Miles were home with me. He had just gotten up from a nap and I had just finished nursing him. I laid him down so he could look at me and I waited for the smiles to appear, but what appeared was anything but smiles. Instead it was hives. All over his face. I am no stranger to hives, both of my older kids have had them, with my oldest actually having some allergies and even Miles earlier in the day had some hives, but I wasn't really alarmed about it at that time. But what I wasn't prepared for was the sudden swelling I would see in his face. My almost three month old son was having an allergic reaction. My heart was pounding, all I could think was what should I do? Is this going to get worse, how do little babies handle this kind of stuff? And I did the only thing that came to mind. I called 911. I have never in my life called 911 for any of my kids. I have called multiple times at work for residents and I knew the drill and what they were going to ask me. Whenever I called at work I was always so calm about it, but not this time. My brain felt like mush. My thoughts were all over the place. My heat felt like it was pounding out of my chest.

I was trying to stay calm, but I was slowly freaking out. Tears fell down my face as I looked at my son and his big red face. And as I was talking on the phone with the dispatcher I heard his cries slowly weaken and start to struggle to breath a bit. It felt like help would never get there. What was probably only a few minutes felt like 20 minutes. And then three paramedics entered the house and took over making sure that Miles was OK. He earned his first ambulance trip that day. Way too early for my liking. But he was going to be OK.

That night I couldn't sleep because I kept going back to the crib to check to make sure he was breathing OK, I just felt closer to him. I laid there and thought back on the events of the day and remembered holding him and watching him trying to breathe. And my thoughts went to how PPD has robbed me of the first three months of my son's life. At how much it has taken from me.

And that tiny light, so small appeared and that night I was determined to not let PPD take another day away from me. Knowing that there are still going to be difficult days ahead, but also knowing that not everyday is going to be a storm and to really embrace those days. To try and find joy in each day no matter how small it may be.

I will be forever thankful to my neighbor where my kids were playing. As I called her and told her quickly the situation. Before I knew it she was over at our place making sure Miles and I were OK and that Nora was taken care of. What I didn't find out until after we had gotten home was that she had taken the kids inside her place afterwards and she fed them dinner and kept them over there for a while. What an amazing person she is!

The light is still there and I hope it remains there.

It's sometimes the worst things to happen to us to show us what we really have.

And a shout out to paramedics and 911 dispatchers that are always there at our worst moments in life. Miles had no problem chilling with one of the paramedics and they were all so nice.

No walk in the park

Postpartum depression.

It's real.

It exists.

My journey in motherhood the fourth time around has not been easy. I have struggled, sometimes daily. I haven't felt like myself in a while. I have been angry and sad. I have felt regret and have struggled to bond with my baby. I have felt less then a good mom at times, because my other children I feel have been neglected in the way that I haven't been able to spend time with them. I feel like I am trapped on the couch for long periods of time nursing Miles.

I guess this spiral started in the hospital. I wanted to badly to have a VBAC, my previous child was an emergency c section and I didn't want to go through that again. I ended up at the hospital in labor and was so happy and so positive I felt like I was going to get my VBAC. Until they realized that baby was face presenting, and my hopes were quickly dashed. The OB said it was too risky and it would in fact be another c section for me. I cried. Tears streamed down my face and I couldn't stop them. I knew the recovery and the limitations that were going to be put on me. I didn't want it. But I didn't have a choice.

I walked into the OR and sat on the table. Waited for them to give me the spinal all the while having to endure excruciating contractions. They laid me down and started the surgery. Everything went according to plan and Miles came into the world at 6:13pm. But I didn't hear Anything. And like any new Mother would do anxiety started to creep in and I kept saying I don't hear him, is he OK? My husband just said they are working on him he is ok. What I didn't exactly know at the time was that his cord was wrapped around his neck several times and they had to give him extra oxygen because he had swallowed a lot of the meconium before being born. And after what felt like hours they finally brought him over for me to see.

After I was done in recovery I was brought over to the postpartum side. And here is where my struggles really began. The pain set in and I couldn't stop throwing up. My nurse the first night was amazing as I kept apologizing to her every time she had to come in and clean me up from throwing up, with one time having to change all the bedding. She was always so nice and smiled and said "don't worry about it these things happen, you just had major surgery."

You just had major surgery.

I always forget that part. You are literally cut open and a baby is brought through that incision site. They go through multiple layers in your body, including muscle and trust me you use you stomach muscles for way more then you think you do.

Fast forward to Tuesday. I should be able to walk to the bathroom and walk the hallway a little bit, but I can't. I can't even get out of bed. I tried to move in bed and got stuck. A nurse came into my room and saw me in this awkward position in bed and asked if I was OK, and I replied in tears to her that I was stuck and couldn't move. After that I had a nurse come in and talk to me, I assume she was the boss. She asked me several questions and then asked me if the nurse was meeting my needs. And like usual I wanted to answer yes because I didn't want to be "that person", but this was my health my recovery and no they were not meeting my needs. My pain was being mismanaged.

After that conversation, everything felt like it was starting to fall into place. By the afternoon I felt way better and was even able to get up and get a shower. I felt like a new person. Like I was finally able to get a hold on everything and that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But that light it quickly disappeared.

We finally arrived home on the Wednesday, Miles was born on Sunday evening. And I struggled greatly. There were times where I just sat and cried while Miles cried. There were times that I thought to myself, what was I thinking having another child. I didn't feel that instant bond with my baby. I didn't want to touch him at times. I felt like a Mom that was failing, not only my new baby but my other children as well. My two year old couldn't understand why I couldn't pick her up. I was tired all the time. I had no energy for my older kids.

Five weeks in and I was engulfed in a big black dark hole. I didn't feel myself. I was angry way too much. I felt like I was just going through the motions of the day. I wasn't looking forward to much. Christmas this year felt like a big daunting day, and if you know me you know that I am still a child at heart with Christmas. I love this time of year, I love watching my kids open their presents on Christmas morning and love getting together with family. And this year I just felt so meh about everything.

Christmas Eve, after finally getting Miles to sleep after three hours of trying I hear a ping on my phone. My Mom was texting me.

"Are you okay?"  She said.

"yeah just really tired."

"I'm worried about your health, let me know how I can help." She said.

I texted her back with a long answer with basically saying I felt like a burden on people and that I didn't want to burn her out on trying to help me so I don't ask that often. She replied with a thanks for sharing my feelings and that I matter to her and so do my kids.

"Ping" my phone goes off again.

"I don't like seeing you in so much pain." She said.

I cried. A lot.

I finally replied back.

"I don't feel like myself and I haven't for a while."

"I think you have depression." She said.

Postpartum depression can creep up on you. It can set in without you even realizing what is going on until everything starts come crashing down around you. In a house full of people I feel so alone. It's difficult sometimes to vocalize how I feel or what I need at times. I have people around me that want to help, but the feeling of being a burden on people always comes creeping back in.

But I'm trying to get better at it. I'm trying to become more accepting of saying yes when someone wants to help. I went out the other day just me and Nora. It wasn't for long, but I was able to be separated from Miles for a bit and it felt good. Did I miss a feeding with him, yes but he lived with one time being fed with formula. Which I am not against, all my kids have either been all formula fed or at a certain time been switched over to formula. And Nora had so much fun being the only one with Mom. And I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it just being Nora and I doing errands together.

Postpartum depression needs to be talked about more. More Moms need to know other peoples stories, so they don't feel alone. So they don't feel like they are less then a Mother if they do have it. They need to know that it doesn't look the same in each person.

The stigma needs to be removed.

Postpartum depression is real.

It does exist.

Don't ignore it.

Week one down!

So it's been a week.

At times it has felt like the longest week, but we made it!

I am excited to say that Thomas is no longer on any medications! That's right, none! He is able to maintain his sugar levels within a normal range without medication and just by changing his diet. I am shocked at how quickly everything happened! In a matter of just a couple of days he stopped taking a new medication that he was on and went back to taking metformin only and then the next day was able to cut that dosage in half and a day after that was able to stop taking it completely! He has also lost 6 lbs.

Low carb high fat diet does actually work to reverse type two diabetes!

And along my journey in this, not only supporting my husband, but I have also lost 9 lbs. Minimal carbs and high fat. And it tastes good!

I won't lie, we have had those moments where we dream of something we wish we could be eating. Where we just sit and have this conversation about something that we really want at that moment. But the results are too good to just throw it all away.

I was telling my Mom the other day, that I walked into the grocery store and I was looking around and everything carb just stuck out to me. And she was like "yeah you feel like your allergic to it now!" And in a way its true. I'm actually more aware of what has carbs in it now then I was a week ago.

So here is to another upcoming successful week on LCHF diet!

Every journey.....

Begins with a single step.

My husband and I are starting on a new journey. We are set on trying a new way to eat. Our initial reason for wanting to do this was to reverse his type two diabetes. And for support I thought I would also partake in this journey and see if I could not improve myself as well.

We have started eating low carb high fat. Strange you may think because we all try to avoid those high fat foods. Thinking that it is bad for us. When really the carbohydrates are the true problem. You see the more carbohydrates you eat, the more sugar there is going to be in the bloodstream. Which is not good for a diabetic. Yet a dietitian will tell a diabetic to eat between  30-60 grams of carbohydrates at meals and 15-30 grams if your having a snack.

They are telling a diabetic to ingest sugar.

Also on the food pyramid that we are all well aware of, the biggest part is the bottom, which is all carbohydrates!

Might be an indicator why diabetes has been on the rise.

So here we are night one of low carbohydrates and high fat. I wasn't sure what kind of meals we would find and how tasty they would be. We all know so many fad diets out there where you get to eat food that tastes like cardboard. Let me tell you, fat tastes amazing! And better yet we are not going to be hungry in a couple of hours, unlike if you were to eat a high carbohydrate meal. You can eat until you feel satisfied and better yet, there is no calorie counting or weighing your food!

We tried our first meal, bacon mushroom cheeseburger lettuce wraps. It was so good! I accidentally put the cheese on top, but it tasted all the same either way.

So our journey we have decided to start with a two week challenge and see how it goes.

I'll keep you posted!

P.S I have put a couple of links to a couple of videos we watched. And also the site that we are getting all these amazing recipes from!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l55OjWS9pEc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=da1vvigy5tQ

https://www.dietdoctor.com/low-carb/recipes/lunch-dinner

The tough stuff

Deep breath, you can do this.

I'm four and a half months into it. And to be honest it hasn't been all skittles and rainbows. It's been tough. Exhausting. But I push through the dark days, because I know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I know that these days will soon be behind me.

I didn't realize it at the time, but when my second child was born I suffered from postpartum depression. (PPD) It sucked me into it's black hole. I had a difficult time dealing with things. A baby and a three year old at the time. It was more then I could handle then. But somehow I made it out of the darkness. I made it to the other side. I had at the time reached out for help. I went to my family doctor and I was very open with her about my feelings and thoughts. The response I got from her was nothing that I expected to get and it made me shut down completely. I wanted to say nothing else to her and I just wanted to leave.

I never sought anymore help after that.

I suffered and dealt with it on my own.

The cards are stacked against me. I have a family history of depression. And I didn't want it to happen to me, but here I am. It's so difficult to admit. It is difficult as a mother to reach out and admit defeat and admit that I need help. I wanted to be super Mom. I wanted to be the one to do everything for my children.

But I can't.

Nora is four and a half months old and the black hole is trying to suck me in again, I'm trying my best to keep my head afloat, but it gets the best of me sometimes. I have learned when to walk away now. I know the baby will be OK to cry for a minute. As I gather myself up and count to 10....or 20 and go back in to settle her. I know when I should reach out for help and it's always helpful for me to be able to talk to someone and let them know that I am struggling in that moment.

I wish everyday that I didn't feel like this. But I'm getting through it. I hand off Nora to daddy more often now. I find days that are not as cold and take walks. We like to go for our daily Starbucks run with Bugga. It's the little things that help me get through a tough day.

But they are not all bad.

I love it in the mornings when Nora first wakes up and she greets me with that goofy gummy smile. I love seeing her interact with her brother and sister. I love those quiet moments when she falls asleep in my arms. She has caught onto the game of peek a boo and absolutely loves it.

My love for my children only grows more each day. I know there might be a storm or two ahead, but the clouds will clear and the sun will shine.