To my Mom

 Mom,

I want Febuary to stay. March is coming all too quickly and before we know it you will be moving out East. 

I'm not ready.

I have always found solace in the fact that you were a mere two minute drive away. I remember calling you in the middle of the night when I went into labour with Brynleigh. The time I called you and told you my water broke with Nora after having a bath, and the final time when I called you and I was in labour with Miles. You were here in minutes, either by car or bike. 

You have always been here in minutes in my times of need, and it will be hard to accept the fact that you will no longer be within minutes of each other.

Through everything in life you have been my rock. 

My recent journey in life was to be a better version of myself. A healthier version of myself. I absolutely love that I sparked the joy of running in you again. And I have enjoyed every single one of our frigid evening and day runs together. You have cheered me on since day one. You are an enabler of running shoe buying and headbands. And we share a common joy for Lululemon! 

I will truly miss you on runs. With us hooting away as our bodies are shocked at the extreme cold temperatures until our bodies have adjusted, or we have lost all feeling in our extremeties! I love that you get a chuckle out of my reaction when we are passed by other runners, and I have to check our pace just to make sure we aren't running like snails. 

Just know this though, that even though you are moving away I will not stop. I will continue running and continue to get stronger and hopefully maybe one day the one passing other runners. 

I look forward to our first run together again when you return for a visit. 

Love, 

Charity

P.S In case you didn't know it, you are adored by your grandchildern and know that they will be calling you via messenger frequently. 

One Day, or Day One?

 In the middle of a pandemic I decided it was time to change my life. To be a better version of me. 

I chose day one.

In the early morning hours I started my journey. I strapped my then one year old son into the running stroller and we took off. Well not like a fighter jet or a dog chasing after a squirrel. 

But I started.

One foot in front of the other.

It was painful.

My lungs were burning. 

That morning I barely made it to 2kms.

I really had no idea how far I would get. What I was capable of. 

The next morning I woke up again and repeated the process. Each day I was able to get a little farther. And  pretty soon I was getting to 5kms. Not running the whole time, but I got to the distance I wanted to. Before I knew it I was walking less and running more. I was completing 5kms faster. My pace was coming down, and also my weight.

I had my route down. I ran the same one every morning. I can only imagine what people were thinking as I ran past them. And one morning I found out exactly what one person was thinking. As I trudged up the hill with my son in tow, which to put into perspective he weighed about 25lbs at the time and the stroller itself was about 20lbs. Im in my own world while running, unless I cross paths with another runner I usually look up give a little smile and carry on. I was coming up to a lady running and I do my usual look up and little smile and she looks at me and says "good job Mama, keep going." A complete stranger was encouraging me to keep going. 

Just keep going. 

And I did.

Each day I showed up. I put in the hard work. I challenged myself. I knew that regret would follow very harshly if I threw in the towel. I needed to do this. For myself. For my kids. A couple of years ago we went to Canada's Wonderland. I spent the whole day not wanting to go on the rides with my kids because I wasn't sure if I exceeded the weight limits and I didn't want to find out. I missed out on a whole day of fun because of the life choices I was making. Next time we go I want to be able to ride every single ride with them. I want to be part of the fun and not just on the sidelines watching. 

Show up.

It's simple, but difficult at the same time. You have to hold yourself accountable. You have to want it bad enough. I'm  telling you hard work does pay off. The change doesn't happen all at once, it's a process and yes it does take time, and you have to trust that process.

2020 has been a year of the books. So much has happened and is still happening. But this past year has shown be how much I have grown. What I'm capable of. What happens when you are consistent. What hard work does. 

2020 has shown me how strong I am. 

This isn't where I stop. I'm not done. 

Keep going.

Show up.

Trust the process. 

I'm cheering you all on. 

Great job, keep going!

Goodbye 2020.

Goodbye 57lbs!!

Hello 2021!

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!