Author: RelentlessMom

My beautiful daughter Adalyn was born in May of 2011. With her I had what I would consider to be a pretty normal nursing experience.   It was not easy by any means but I was lucky to have made it 12 months. I had painful nipples, you know, this is their first time sucking and the first time you have ever had someone sucking milk from you so let’s be real… it hurts at first. Well, it did for me. But, it got better. “If you can make it a month of nursing you are usually golden,” I would tell friends.   It takes time to adjust and learning on both ends. I had a girlfriend tell me that her mother told her that you should “rough up” your nipples with a rag in the shower while pregnant to get your nipples ready.   I heard this after I had nursed both of my children and remember thinking. “Man, why didn’t anyone tell me that?” Well, maybe it is better they didn’t. If anyone would have told me that prior to nursing it might have freaked me out a bit.

While it takes time to get the hang of nursing for both you and your child it is wonderful when it finally works. But I will be the first to admit it is not easy. With Adalyn I experienced thrush, nursed through it, colds, nursed through it, the flu, nursed through it. I then went back to work full time and did the whole pump at work in the am, nurse at lunch, pump in the afternoon thing. I did this from 3 months to a year.   This also includes a lot of pump parts and bottle cleanings in the evenings lets not forget. I also did all the overnight feedings. Sometimes there were unpleasant “side effects” shall we say from nursing, like cracked nipples but it was just a part of it. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.   I remember our Pediatrician calling me the “Breastfeeding Goddess”. I don’t know about that but I know that it just worked and I enjoyed it.

Deciding if nursing is right for you is something very personal for a woman. Not every woman can, wants to or is comfortable with nursing and that’s ok. It is completely her decision and she doesn’t have to explain it.

I don’t know why I chose to nurse it was just something I chose to do. I had not been around many people who had nursed and it was not a common practice in my family.   I was fortunate to have had a few friends that nursed to help me. One of my best girlfriends helped me register and gave me a crash course in what to buy, provided some nursing tips, taught me how to use a breast pump and how to clean the parts. In addition, I took a nursing class at the hospital I would deliver at. I liked that class so much the same friend and I would take that class again together two years later as a refresher when we were both pregnant with our second babies.   So, I would say I had prepared about as well as anyone could for nursing.

I felt very fortunate that nursing worked for Adalyn & I. In our experience I found beauty in nursing. To me, being able to nourish your child and comfort your child from your breast was something so remarkable and life changing I don’t even know how to describe it. There is a feeling of peace and tranquility that engulfs you and your child as they feed and you look in their eyes.  During those moments the rest of the world can disappear in an instant and you drift into the most magical of places.  The two of you enter in your own little safe shielded world where everything is calm and all that matters is peace. You could stare into their eyes for what feels like an instant but could very well be a half hour.   You watch their satisfaction and ease of comfort as they drift off to sleep from their fullness. You study their eyelids, cheeks, lips and tiny fingers. While in the very moment you dream of what they will grow to become you are also wishing they will stay this size forever.   You hold on a while longer before putting them down because you don’t want to let that moment go.   That moment shared between mother and child was heaven for me.

 

 

 

When my husband and I decided to try for our second child we didn’t care if we were having a boy or a girl. When we found out my lil bundle in my belly was a boy, we were both thrilled! One of each! I was nervous if I would know what to do and how to care for a boy. I grew up with all girls.   I figured we would manage just fine.

About two months before Andrew was born I got the idea that now was the time to convert to Catholicism. I was born and raised Lutheran and had pretty strong beliefs. When my husband and I married I wasn’t ready to convert. We were married in a Catholic Church and did Pre-Cana classes together. I just was not ready or even considering converting just because we were getting married. I felt firmly that I didn’t know enough about Catholicism and was not going to just change what I believed all of my life just because I was getting married. I felt that was in some way putting a man in front of God. At least that’s how I felt then.

I grew up living next door to my church. We attended church every Sunday. It was a small church. My step-dad was a well-liked member and very strong Christian and my mother a Sunday school teacher and Youth Group Leader. We never missed church. If for any reason I didn’t show, my friends from church would run over my house to see where I was. It was like family. I was very close to my Pastor. After school, I would often stop by the church and visit with my Pastor.   I would grab him a Pepsi from the upstairs fridge, crack open some peanuts and we would have long chats about life and all of my questions I pondered about God.   He was very influential on the person I am today and I am so grateful to have had him in my life.   After I graduated college I taught Sunday school for a bit and even had the privilege to teach his daughter. Growing up our church was like a 2^nd home for me.

My husband and I searched and attended several churches before we settled on one that suited us both. It was a Catholic Church that we chose and I felt at home there even though I was a Lutheran. I found there to be many similarities between our worship services and I enjoyed what I took away with me in my heart as I left church each Sunday. The church we chose had a cry room in the balcony but at the front of the church. You could actually still hear and participate in the mass while being in the cry room. I thought this was genius!

At this time I was working part time for my husband’s Senior Care Company streamlining his Recruiting process and Recruiting Caregivers. I had been an IT Recruiter when I was working full time but wanted to scale back a bit now that I had kids.  My husband was also working a ton as the owner of a growing company. At the time we had a lot on our plates with a 2 year old, baby on the way and a small business. I really didn’t need anything else on my plate but when we are the busiest is when we are the most productive right?

I remember waddling down the hall to the ladies room at 7 or 8 months pregnant at my lunch break and after toying with the thoughts of converting for a while now was the time I was going to do it.   I called Sister at our church to get more information. It was from there I started taking weekly RCIA classes every Sunday.

As we were a growing family it was important to me to provide a strong faith based foundation to our family like I had been provided.   I don’t know why I felt so strongly to convert only weeks away from having a 2^nd child but it was time. There were so many things I didn’t know about being Catholic.  I wanted to be able to answer all of my kids questions as they grow up, for example: why do we kneel before we sit down or why do we dip our fingers in the water before we enter or leave the church.   I wanted us to be one with God as a family as we attended church. I wanted to be the one that could answer their questions and I wanted to learn for myself.  I also wanted to be able to participate in the Eucharist with my family. So I began my journey.  From September to February I attended RCIA classes. Andrew was born in November and he then attended classes with me until I completed them. I became a Catholic in February of 2014. I had no idea the impact it would have on me at that time in my life.

Attending the weekly RCIA classes was like renewing my Faith. The classes were not at all what I expected. It wasn’t about enforcing certain Catholic beliefs but rather explaining the beauty behind why Catholics believe the way they do. It was about bringing God back into the basic fundamentals of your life. I felt welcomed in this wonderful group of people. We all shared and respected each other’s backgrounds. There are lessons on forgiveness and judgment that I took away from that class that I will hold in my heart forever. It didn’t replace my beliefs however it built upon the strong foundation that I already had. I learned to pray and believe again in a way that I somehow had lost a bit in my young adult life.

I had no idea why then it was so important but looking back it saved me that year.   That renewed sense of faith is what gave me strength to endure the road ahead.   I am so glad I listened to that inner voice and made time that year for my faith. It was one of the best decisions that I have ever made for myself and as a mother and I am so very proud to now call myself a Catholic. I am very thankful to God for all of the many blessings he has given our family and to that beautiful RCIA class for encouraging me to be “all in!”

 

The beginning of my pregnancy was pretty easy with my son. To be honest, I loved being pregnant each time. I had the occasional nausea with my daughter but it wasn’t too bad compared to what I knew others had gone through. This time around I didn’t have too much of that. I loved watching my belly grow and the anticipation of holding a sweet little one.   I loved maternity clothes and I embraced that belly bump. I loved preparing the baby rooms and thinking about what our little one would one day be interested in.

Pregnancy the 2^nd time around was a bit different than my first as it progressed. It’s a new ball game to be pregnant the second time around. The first time if you are tired you can lie down. When you have a toddler and you are pregnant you may be tired, however you are still chasing and you on your feet a ton. My belly was so big that I grew to be crazy uncomfortable. If I had more than a few bites in a meal I would be in misery. I had to go to the ER one time because I was keeled over in pain after eating dinner. Luckily that turned out to be just gas. Did I really just admit that? Around 28 weeks my abdomen started to separate and around 32 weeks it was separated. It was ungodly painful; the doctors called it Diastasis Recti. It was really uncomfortable to walk and I felt it with each step. I sometimes wonder if it was from picking my daughter Ady up so much while pregnant. Let’s be honest though. How do you not pick up a child when they put their arms out? I was 5’2’’ and he was a decent size baby. I think there was just limited room in there. Looking back I carried my daughter Ady a lot while pregnant. She was a toddler and could walk but she also liked being held.  I probably could have utilized a stroller a bit more often I guess.   I felt much better at 32 weeks once my abdomen had done most of the separating but I was still very uncomfortable with each meal. I remember just how big that belly really was and even took a picture of it because I was so amazed at the size.

***

It was November 3rd, 2013 the Anniversary of my Step Father Gene’s passing. In RCIA class we were discussing All Saints Day. This was a day my Step Father had always held dear to his heart. When it came time for discussion that day, they wanted us to describe someone who had been Saintly in our lives and why. I held back tears that whole class and actually passed when it came to me to discuss. All I could think of was Gene. He had raised me since I was 4. He was the most kind, generous, and loving soul I think anyone has ever met. I always think in the world it’s ranked, God, Jesus, then Gene. He was that good of a man. When people arrived at church I think they looked for Gene. They looked for his smile and when asked how he was he always replied, “If I were any better I couldn’t handle it.” His positivity and kindness radiated from him. He never judged anyone. He was the wisest and most hospitable person you could know and I was fortunate to grow up learning from him every day. He was my rock and when he died a piece of my soul died too. So as I left the class that day, 9 months pregnant and walking to my car I almost lost it. Of course I parked on the wrong side of the campus-like parking lot. My body hurt so bad as I walked because I was so uncomfortable and when I sat in my car I closed my door and cried my eyes out remembering Gene. It had been 7 years since he passed and the pain was still that deep for him. Of course I was crazy hormonal too. When I got home I walked in the house and grabbed the leftover Halloween chocolate. About 5 bite sized Twix candy bars later and a few more tears… I felt the gush of water… we headed for the hospital.

Upon arrival, I made them test the water before I was going to let them admit me. I had been to the hospital now twice with false alarms. It turns out I was leaking amniotic fluid but it had not ruptured yet. I was put on Pitocin to speed up the process after not progressing. The nurse offered me Nubain before my epidural. She said it was like having a glass of wine before the epidural to help me relax. My main nurse pushed for me to start with a half a dose. She warned that some people get a little nauseated and I should start with a half dose to be safe.   I was so nervous again for the epidural I opted in. From the moment I had the Nubain the room started spinning rapidly like I was in a video game. I started vomiting and would continue to vomit all night long. Thank goodness I was only given the half dose! I had the epidural in between vomiting and I remember the girl hitting a nerve about 3-4 times while threading the epidural. I think they were training her and I was so sick to my stomach from the Nubain that I don’t even think I was comprehending what was taking place. From the Pitocin strengthening my contractions, although I didn’t feel them my body would tense and shake profusely when I had a contraction. The feeling was like in the dead of winter and you get into your car and you feel that cold sensation down your back as you tense. Yeah, I had that all night long, shook and vomited. So needless to say, labor stunk this time around, not that it is ever a picnic.  I continued to vomit and my husband continued to sleep. I knew he would need it and what could he really do.  The nurse took care of me.  It wasn’t until the doc came in, in the morning and said it was time to push that she found out I had been vomiting all night. She said. “Give her a Zofran.” I stopped vomiting almost instantly. Are you freaking kidding me? No one thought to give me that hours before? I pushed a solid hour. When Andrew came out, he screamed as all little ones do. I reached out and grabbed him from the doctor’s hands and brought him close to me.  All I could do was hold that little miracle. I can’t even believe I grabbed him from the doc but I wanted him in my arms so bad. And I comforted him and gave him gentle sushes to tell him it was ok. I remember the doctor saying something to the effect of, “wow I have never seen anyone so calm about this.” Or something to that effect. The instant love I had for Andrew was the most beautiful thing. They cleaned up my lil man. He was 8lbs 5.2 oz. He was the most beautiful little boy I had ever seen.

In the hospital family and friends visited. I was pretty calm this time around. Andrew latched on no problem. When the lactation consultants would come in to check on me I would tell them things were going great and we had things under control. Andrew was only nursing for 5 or 10 minutes sessions, shorter than Ady did but he seemed to have the hang of it and he nursed frequently. My husband stayed the first night.   We were all pretty pooped out that night. The second night I sent Joe home to be with Ady and relieve my mother. I told him, “I got this!”   I will never forget that night in the hospital. Andrew screamed all night. The hospital was practicing “rooming in” where the babies stay in your room. We did that with Ady too and I preferred that. I couldn’t put Andrew down. If he was sleeping and I put him down he would wake up screaming. One nurse commented, “This is a baby that will always need to be held.” That comment will stay with me forever. Another nurse that night, literally came in the room and took him out for an hour because she felt so bad that he wouldn’t stop screaming. It was blamed on my milk not coming in quick enough. I was pretty confident in my nursing abilities and I was pretty confident the milk was there.

Not only had Andrew been so miserable in the hospital but I was wiped out and my back was in wicked pain from the labor. All that tensing, shaking and throwing up really did a number on me. I couldn’t even stand up straight. If this ever happens to you, drive right to your chiropractor. My chiropractor saw me on the drive home from the hospital. I don’t know what he did to me but he sure fixed me right up. I guess you have hormones after you deliver that really improve adjustments. Let me tell you he took my pain away so fast.   I was immediately relieved and able to walk with ease. I don’t know what I would have done without him that day.   I was fortunate that he was able to help me because I needed to be able to focus on my new baby boy.

 

 

 

Nursing Struggles

Andrew had my heart from the very moment I saw him. He was precious and has the most beautiful blue eyes you will ever see. His mother, daddy, big sister and golden retriever Maggie instantly loved him. What we were not prepared for was why he had such a hard time with feeds. Andrew would latch, nurse for 5 -10 minutes, pop off, try to re-latch, painful forceful letdown of my milk, gag and repeat. This would continue for 6 months.  He had a love/hate relationship with my breast. He wanted to nurse constantly but would not nurse for long and often scream during feeds. I fed on demand because I always felt he was hungry. He would fall asleep after some feeds but the instant I would try to put him down he would scream in pain. He woke frequently and we never got him to sleep through the night. There were many many nights I slept with Andrew sleeping on my chest and I sat upright. It was sometimes the only time we could get any rest. Andrew would grow to have reflux and I did everything I could to keep him comfortable.

I tried everything I could to help our feeding sessions. I tried every nursing position available, I tried pumping round the clock, I tried tips on dealing with what I thought were oversupply issues. You name it, I read about it and tried it. I had read about other moms that gave up nursing with similar symptoms and still had issues with formula. It was my biggest fear to give up nursing and still have feeding issues.

My body was depleted at this point. I nursed Andrew almost every 1.5 -2 hours for 6 months trying to make it work. I nursed through clogged ducts, cracked nipples, three separate 9-day stomach viruses and with minimal sleep. Andrew was hospitalized for having 2 strains of the flu virus at the same time, battled Roseola virus, Hand, Foot & Mouth, and Croup during those first 6 months.

Now and again we would have a good nursing session and I would get hope. He was gaining weight very well, almost too well so his pediatrician didn’t have any concerns. He actually called him a “meatball”. I had been told very early on we would not treat my son’s reflux due to the fact that he was gaining weight. For a kid with feeding issues he never had the weight gain issues others described.

While we struggled with nursing issues we also struggled to keep down eczema flare-ups. It started with cradle cap then moved to eczema in his neck, behind his ears, in his ears, in his elbow and behind his knees and upper thigh creases. There were times Andrew would wake clawing himself at night and we would have to hold his arms so he didn’t hurt himself. It all got to be a little much for me and I made the decision that I had to give up nursing at 6 months. I would try to write his symptoms down so I could explain it at wellness visits. I had nursed my older daughter for a year and wanted so badly to keep going like I did with her. I knew I had to write things down so I could remember and to understand why I gave up so I didn’t blame myself later on. It was at this time that my family begged me to stop nursing because of all the issues we had been having. I would constantly re-describe what we were dealing with at wellness visits. Our doctor would assure me I had done a great job with nursing and would tell me it was ok if I wanted to give up. What no one around me could understand was that I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to know what was wrong and why were having such trouble. My son’s reflux caused him to scream in pain every car ride, after only 10-15 minutes into each nap, each time he was in his swing, each time he was in his crib. I held him round the clock. I slept with him many nights on my chest and he would wake frequently to eat. The nurse from the hospital was right, he was a child that “Always wanted to be held.” But why I would ask myself? I was encouraged to introduce solids early at 4 months. Maybe he was just hungry I was told. This didn’t change things for him. It only made things worse and more confusing as we went along. Andrew would grow to having constipation issues.   He would scream in pain for sometimes 4 hours straight leading up to a BM and once it passed he would be a changed child. I would describe him making “horrible poop faces” because you could tell he was in miserable pain each time he went.

My husband would call me to check on me over lunch and I would tell him Andrew had just screamed for 3 or 4 hours straight. Then he would poop and the day would change. Andrew’s poops would be hard balls and when you looked at them you couldn’t believe something so large had come from something so small. Sometimes, he would pass a ball and then 5 poops would come quickly following after.   One time he had as many as 9 poops in one day after passing one of these pooh balls. I would keep reminding whomever I saw; remember these issues all started when he was born.

This was really hard for me. It was a whole different nursing experience than I had the first time around. It was so confusing that as I would try to rock Andrew to sleep he would scream. Why wouldn’t he look into my eyes as he nursed and we both go into that blissful peaceful feeding session? Why didn’t he want to be rocked to sleep? Why did he hurt?   Why couldn’t I put him down? Why couldn’t I nurse this time? I was tired, I was depleted and as we were up at night I would research and I would write. Was it my fault? I learned about something called “leaky gut” and started blaming myself. Did a poor diet during pregnancy cause this? Did me deciding to drink 1% milk instead of 2% milk not help seal my gut? These are just a few of the many things I would read, question and blame myself for. I just didn’t get it.

Life at that time was tough. The same week we brought Andrew from the hospital our dear 13-year-old golden retriever Maggie started having seizures and started showing signs of Cushing’s disease. To have a child with colic and reflux and a sick dog was a lot on my plate at once. It was a lot to take. I know it was hard on my daughter Adalyn too. She would always say, “Andrew cries all the time!” When I was working full time it had always been my dream to be home full time with Ady. Now that I was home full time, I kept Adalyn in daycare part time. It was her break and looking back it was good for her although I felt guilt at the time. I felt it would be really hard for her to go from full time day care to being home full time with a baby brother who screamed as he did. It hurt my heart but I thought it was what was best for her. I remember days when Adalyn was home how frustrated she would get during Andrew’s crying. I remember our Pediatrician reminding us that when you have a newborn to play and give special time to your older child when your baby sleeps. I remember my husband and I thinking but he doesn’t sleep. Adalyn was once so mad at Andrew screaming she went over and threw the DVD player across the room.

It was always my plan to go back to work part-time after 3 months. When that time rolled around I couldn’t even fathom going back to work. There were days Andrew would scream 4 hours straight, poop and have a wonderful afternoon. I remember telling my husband, “I don’t know how someone else would handle this, especially if they had a room full of other kids that needed attention too.” I just couldn’t bring myself to put Andrew in someone else’s care. I didn’t trust anyone else with him for extended periods of time. I was so afraid someone would get frustrated with him. There were good days and bad days but the bad days were real hard. The car rides were real hard. The sleepless nights were real hard. I remember if I had to get in the car and drive somewhere being afraid to put on my sunglasses. I remember feeling like if I put my sunglasses on that I would fall asleep at the wheel. It was a different kind of “tired” that I had ever known in my life.

I remember each day I always had the Today Show on in the background. I remember telling myself if I ever figure out what hurts my son I will get on that show and tell every mother so no child ever has to go through this pain for this long.

When Andrew would wake at night it woke you each time like a fire alarm. We would literally jump out of bed and run it was that loud and startling. It wasn’t like you would start to hear your kid rustling on the monitor next to you and you head to their room in a sleepy daze. It was more that he woke in pure pain hysterics that made us both jump in confusion and run like two confused chickens with their heads cut off. Our poor Adalyn would complain each morning that she didn’t get any sleep.

My husband came up with a rule that year that I think every couple with a colicky child should inherit. He came up with the idea that no matter what we said to one another in frustration during those endless sleepless nights we would not hold against one another the next day. We actually both followed it and never spoke of things that were said and never would discuss them again. With each day the waking sun brought us instant forgiveness.   Looking back it was the best gift he could have given to me at that time.

While I know what it was all like in my shoes at that time. I know it all couldn’t have been easy on my husband either and I have to acknowledge that. He had to go to work each day. He had to continue running his business as usual. He also had 2 companies that were entertaining the idea of purchasing him. He had a lot on his plate too. I remember him telling me once that it was hard because he “ wanted to help so bad but didn’t know what he could do.” We had talked about the idea of starting to look for a bigger house after a 2^nd child. It became his escape as he started checking out homes for us. I think in his way it was a light at the end of the tunnel and something he could do for our family.

I got through each day. There were good days and very hard bad days. But you endure. I prayed. I prayed each day and thanked god for the many blessings we did have. I would pray: God, give me strength, give me patience, give me love. Each time it got tough I would whisper this or repeat this in my head. I believe whole-heartedly it was my faith that gave me the strength during that time. I think any mom out there loses and seeks for additional patience at times. None of us are perfect. That year, somehow I begged for patience in a way I never knew I needed.

It was June 12, 2014 and Andrew was 7 months old. I had just reached out to our Pediatrician again, asking for advice. I had spoken to the nurse over the phone and asked if she could put a note in to the doctor to call me. I had already seen our practice’s lactation consultants at this point but I needed some new direction. Could I bring Andrew back in, did the doctor have any new advice? I heard back from the nurse with a message from the Pediatrician. It said, “Andrew is overtired and put to bed 20 minutes earlier.”

I hung up the phone and bawled my eyes out that day with Andrew lying on my chest. I felt like no one understood what we were dealing with. We couldn’t get Andrew to sleep let alone put him to bed earlier.

These were my notes on that day:

• Even while pumping I am not seeing enough relief.
• Even adding formula I am not seeing enough relief
• Andrew can’t seem to settle
• Hardly naps
• Not sleeping through the night
• Car rides screams head off (Cars make reflux worse)
• Grunts when going to sleep
• Hunter green poop (iron from formula?)

Coincidentally that day my mother put me in touch with a family member who had been through similar struggles. I got in touch with her immediately and she referred me to a GI Specialist that had helped her family tremendously. I called his office and the nurse said to me, “Be here in an hour.”

That day I was told Andrew had a “Clear case of Cow’s Milk Protein Allergy (CMPA) and he put Andrew on Alimentum Formula.   While Andrew did not have the blood in his stool that usually went along with CMPA the specialist was certain the rest of his symptoms matched. This would start our formula, food journal, reflux medication, and food elimination trial and error journey. I would also go on to donate 100 oz of my breast milk I had stored in my freezer since I thought Andrew could not have it.

For the next 5-months we entered into the world of Food Allergies, Sensitivities and Intolerances. We tried food journals and elimination diets along with the following formulas.

• Similac Complete
• Similac Sensitive
• Alimentum
• Elecare
• Goats Milk
• Neocate

None of these seemed to relieve Andrew’s symptoms even with the aid of Prevacid and Zantac.

At 8 months we had Andrew tested for allergies:

Skin Prick Tested/ Visited Allergy (8 months old) – 7/31/2014 

• Cows Milk (negative)
• Banana (negative)
• White Potato (negative)
• Sweet Potato (negative)
• Squash (negative)
• Carrot (negative)
• Corn (negative)
• Wheat (negative)
• Oats (negative)
• Soybean (negative)
• Rice (negative)
• I asked for Peanut (runs in family) Dr. told me not necessary because he has not yet been exposed.  He told me that he was not exposed through breastmilk.  

I continued the search to find Andrew relief and saw the specialists in the process:

• 2 GI’s
• ENT
• Chiropractor
• Allergy
• Endocrinology
• Neurology
• Sleep Doctor
• Dietician

Andrew underwent the following tests:

• XRays (Excessive Stool on both)
• Ultrasounds (All good)
• Upper GI (All good)
• Barium Swallow Test (All good)
• Allergy Testing (All negative)
• Ear checks – Temps put in to check ears (All good)

As we neared Andrew’s 1^st Birthday I considered an alternative food sensitivity test called the MRT test. I was still trying to figure out what was causing his colic from reflux, constipation and eczema.

 

Yesterday was my son’s first birthday.  We had a lovely party over the weekend celebrating with family.  Since our house is on the market I debated if I wanted the extra work.  I couldn’t hold back.  After the year we had I wanted something for him to enjoy!!  I bawled my eyes out on the way home from the grocery store the morning of the party.  My son’s special birthday treat was lemon ice rather than cake. It was more of a reminder that still, after a year my son struggled with food sensitivities. I can’t tell you the blame and guilt I have on myself.  Why can’t I figure it out?  With all of the doctor appointments, 7 milk/formula changes, all the tests, new bottles, elimination diets, food journals, dietitians why can’t I find answers?  My son is on Neocate Formula ($45/can) and peaches and pears, along with Miralax and probiotics.

Andrew’s birthday party was a blast. It was Mickey Mouse themed and we enjoyed it. I didn’t allow myself to get caught up in my thoughts. I just let go and enjoyed the day.   I have to enjoy the special moments and not let the rest consume us.

Yesterday, on my son’s actual birthday, I took him in for food intolerance testing with my mother.  It’s called MRT testing and they collect blood and test 155 foods for sensitivities.  It took four of us to hold him down and about 40 minutes later it was complete.  While this was his 5th time having to get blood work in his little life I can assure you it was no easier.  These were my notes leading up to my decision to go forward with the test.

Why MRT testing:

• Want this to be last blood work for a long time & while he doesn’t remember
• A chance to figure out diet now
• Tired of playing Russian roulette with food
• So hard to see him in pain so much
• I feel pretty sure its food sensitivity but can’t figure culprit
• It has to be additive right?
• Not convinced cmpa
• Don’t know if I trust igg or alcat testing
• Skin prick testing is allergy and negative, this tests for sensitivities.

We will get the results in two weeks.

My second stop was to the fire station.  I had to get Andrew’s car seat turned around now that he is 1 and 22 pounds.  Up until now every car ride is bloody murder crying.  I literally scraped puke off the leather seat and couldn’t get it all off as the fireman took the seat off to turn it around. (Please see our story on Car Puke: http://www.poohnuggets.com/?p=32.) While I know you keep a child turned backwards as long as you possibly can in his case we wanted to turn his around as soon as we could for his relief. At least this may be the best gift I could give him today.