Surprise!

After dealing with the roller coaster that is pregnancy after infertility, I fully expected to wait another several years before trying again for a baby. I knew it would take strength to prepare myself for month after month of disappointment, and I didn’t know how I would handle that with a toddler running around.

Following much discussion over the holidays, we set our tentative start date for our fifth wedding anniversary, the first of May. We would have the next five months to lose the weight we wanted, save the money we were hoping, and get ourselves into a better mental state for the trying process. My cycles were regular for the first time in years, and I didn’t want to mess that up by going on the pill. So I was tracking my cycles using a few different phone apps, we were avoiding my ‘fertile’ week, and I figured we were good to go.

Did you know that sometimes with PCOS (and other fertility issues), pregnancy can act as a reset button? And did you know that one slight slip up, days after you were SUPPOSED to be ovulating, can result in pregnancy (even though two years of carefully timed sex led to nothing?)

I was assuming that weaning K was the reason that my cycle was a little bit off in January. But when I was a day or two late, I tested. The test was stark white, and I broke down crying. I knew we weren’t ready for a baby, I knew that the timing wasn’t right (we hadn’t saved enough, I was still 10lbs over pre-pregnancy weight), but at the same time, I was heartbroken that this wonky cycle wasn’t due to pregnancy. But then, several days later, when my cycle still hadn’t ended, I took another test. And within two minutes, two blue lines stared back at me.

Despite our plans to wait, God had other ideas for our family.

I’m in shock, completely overwhelmed and absolutely thrilled. While we plan, God laughs (or so the saying goes). I’ve had a little time now to adjust to the idea, and while I’m terrified of what having two kids is going to be like, I’m so excited to see K as a big sister, and I’m excited to see what kind of family dynamic we will have as four instead of three. I’m looking forward to new baby snuggles and tiny clothes and nursing again.

I’m worried about lack of sleep. Forget sleeping while baby sleeps when there’s a toddler running around. What about naps? What about bedtimes? Am I ever going to get time alone? I’m thinking about double the baby laundry, and twice as many diapers, and more STUFF. What if this baby’s a boy? I don’t know what to do with a boy!

And yet, I find that place of calm. I breathe, and know that God has a plan. I was terrified about having one baby, and that turned out wonderfully. I know life with this baby will be just as great. So before I turn to my list-making and Excel-chart planning, I’m just going to relax and enjoy what the next eight months have to bring. I will have to be a lot more intentional when it comes to enjoying this pregnancy, because its so easy to get carried away with the everyday goings-on of life. And seeing as this is most likely our last baby, I want to make every moment count.

Breaking Up With Breastfeeding: Part One

I’m struggling to write this post, because the feelings are pretty new and fresh. Bear with me as the words come out in a bit of a jumble, and I try to sort through exactly what’s going on in my head. After sixteen and a half months, my breastfeeding relationship with K has come to an end.

When I first started researching the actual ‘baby’ part of having a baby (once I’d exhausted the pregnancy research), breastfeeding was one of those things that absolutely terrified me. I read horror stories about cracked and bleeding nipples, thrush, mastitis and blocked ducts. I watched as friends pumped dutifully at all hours of the day and night, hoping that their supply would come in. I read about breastmilk being liquid gold, and hearing how incredibly dedicated mothers put themselves through hell to provide the “best” for their baby. At eight months pregnant, I was truly dreading having to breastfeed, and I wanted to buy a case of formula and be done with it.

My prenatal classes, taught by my doula, opened my eyes a little to what a real breastfeeding relationship could be. We were shown a video of minutes-old babies inching their way up their mothers’ chests, finding the right spot and latching on without any assistance. I heard about mothers who successfully and easily breastfed their babies for years, without any pain or trouble at all. Though the horror stories are what we most often hear, my doula reassured me that this was not always the case – and encouraged me to at least give breastfeeding a try.

With a renewed sense of hope, I vowed to at least try. The wonderful ladies of Hellobee assured me (through my numerous panicky posts on the subject), that if  I gave it a good six weeks before giving up, I might just decide that breastfeeding worked for me. So when K was born, I watched my doula lift her onto my chest, and gaped in amazement as she latched on and started nursing.

There were a few days of hell as K and I got used to each other; she was a cluster-feeder for the first 48 hours straight, and I remember sobbing as she latched on again, wishing that we had formula on hand to help me out. After my milk came in on day three, the every-second-of-the-day nursing stopped a little bit, and things got easier. She was still a milk monster, however, and I spent the majority of my time sitting on the couch, propped up with pillows, watching Netflix and trying not to suffocate her with my (suddenly enormous) boobs.

At three weeks post-partum, I wondered if I would ever leave the house again. While the absolute toe-curling pain of the first little while had vanished, it was still quite a production to feed K. I needed both of my hands, and usually one of J’s to get her positioned properly, and about six pillows to keep myself comfortable through the whole (hour long) process. She was nursing every two hours, for about a half hour each time, and it was exhausting.

By six weeks post-partum, the ‘magical’ cut off deadline I had assigned myself, I was completely comfortable with breastfeeding. I still used my nursing pillow religiously, and I was still loading up on Earth Mama Angel Baby nipple cream, but K and I had fallen into a rhythm. I could nurse in public without exposing my entire upper body, and she was getting efficient enough that each session only took about fifteen minutes. I remember lamenting the loss of my Netflix time – efficient nursing meant only half an episode of Veronica Mars every two hours (rather than at least a full episode). But easy nursing meant freedom for me, and while K never took a bottle, I rarely minded. I could honestly say that breastfeeding was easy for me, and K was growing, nursing, and gaining right on target.

My mental deadline for weaning, if all worked out, was one year. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to pump once I was back at work, and since K didn’t take a bottle anyhow, I knew it was a logical time to stop. When her first birthday rolled around, we were nowhere near close to weaning. Yes, she wasn’t nursing from 8:30 – 5:00 while I was at work, but she was still fitting in at least four nursing sessions during the evening and night. Though there was a lot of outside pressure to wean (everyone in my family had finished nursing their babies by well before a year), I knew that we weren’t finished quite yet. Nursing was a huge source of comfort to K, and I enjoyed our quiet time together.Whenever anyone asked, I always said, “We’ll be done by Christmas,” thinking that Christmas sounded an awfully long time away.

The week before Christmas, J confronted me about my deadline. K was eating so much solid food, and drinking water like it was her job; she was clearly getting no nutrition from her once-or-twice-daily nursing sessions. My left side had completely dried up and I was awkwardly lopsided. K was using me as a pacifier, nursing for ten or twenty seconds before popping off and running away. I knew that the time to wean was approaching, but I was still too attached to let go. I think, mentally, I needed to come to that place where I was willing to wean completely, even though we were basically finished already. K was getting to the point where she could be distracted away from wanting milk (with water, yogurt, or stacking blocks). I kept coming up with excuses to keep nursing her, however (she has an ear infection, she’s overtired today, she needs her Mama), but I knew I just wasn’t emotionally ready yet.

And then, the biting started, and we were finished.

K has a devious side. She’s sneaky and clever, and knows when she is doing something she’s not supposed to. The only times she has ever bitten me while nursing was when new teeth were coming through, and it was always an accident. This time, on Christmas Day, she was nursing in the afternoon when she pulled away, grinned at me, then bit down, HARD. I screamed, let go of her quickly and said, “No biting” sharply. She laughed hysterically, then tried to latch on again. I refused, letting her know that biting wasn’t okay, and she could have more milk later.

On Boxing Day, we were visiting family when it happened again. She looked at me and smiled, with a sparkle in her eye, then clamped down with her razor-sharp teeth. This happened two or three more times over the next day or so, with each nursing session ending abruptly. This is exactly what it took for me to realize that our nursing journey was over. She was only nursing briefly, biting me because she thought it was funny, and not noticeably upset when I cut off the nursing session.

After much deliberation, I decided that going cold turkey was best. She was only nursing once, maybe twice per day, and I figured that I should use the time I had away from work to get her used to the idea of drinking exclusively from her sippy cup. She has never taken to a bottle, but loves her straw cup, and I knew she would love almond milk if she would just give it a try. So finally, a few short days after my self-imposed deadline of Christmas, the breastfeeding stopped.

…to be continued

Post-Partum Weight: The Backlash

Weight has always been a tough subject for me. When I got pregnant with K, I was considered ‘obese’ on most of the BMI charts. Thanks to PCOS and a mild obsession with carbs and processed sugar, my weight hadn’t budged in at least a year. I was told to limit my pregnancy weight gain as much as possible; something that deeply bothered me. I had hoped, that for once in my life, I could ignore that number on the scale and know that any pounds added were because of a baby.

During the first trimester, my morning sickness was truly awful. From week 6 to week 16, I was queasy all day and unable to keep anything down before about 11 am. The vomiting was bad enough that it ruined the enamel on my teeth and I wound up with 7 cavities. So imagine my surprise when I was down by 8 lbs at my 16 week checkup. Months of Weight Watchers didn’t do what morning sickness did for me.

I gained weight slowly but steadily over the rest of my pregnancy, and at 41 weeks I had only put on about 25lbs. I was proud of this  weight gain; it was enough to sustain a healthy pregnancy, but not enough that I wouldn’t be able to lose it afterward. Starting out ‘overweight,’ I had been cautioned about potential risks, and I was grateful to have avoided gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia, and other things that CAN be associated with large amounts of weight gain.

I was surprised again when I went to my two-week postpartum appointment at the midwives’ office and all twenty five ponds were gone. My body was a completely different shape than before — rather than carrying my weight in my upper body (boobs, stomach), I carried what was left around my middle and hips. Though the weight was gone, none of my clothes fit, and none of the styles I used to wear worked with my new body type. Everything was flabby and floppy, and though I was lighter than I had been pre-pregnancy, I certainly didn’t feel better.

As I nursed around the clock, took K out for walks all spring and summer, and made a conscious effort to get in shape, weight continued to come off. By ten months postpartum, I was down by another 15 lbs, the lightest I’d been since starting to TTC in 2011. I was finally starting to feel good about my body and how my clothes fit.

And then came what I scathingly refer to as The Backlash.

Suddenly, pushing the stroller and being mindful of what I ate wasn’t cutting it anymore. The weight loss first stalled out, and then reversed entirely. When I started back to work in August, the long days of sitting at a desk started catching up to me. Nursing twice per day instead of 4, 6, 8 times left a mark as well. In the scramble to pack a lunch in the mornings, I ended up with a lunchbag full of processed carbs and little protein. Coffee, a nice treat while on maternity leave, became mandatory for functioning, and it was often full of sugar.

Between the hormone shift, a major decrease in nursing, and the return to a sedentary lifestyle, all progress I had made was gone. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around (the start to holiday-binge-eating that seems to be unavoidable at my house), I was back up about 15lbs, and I was feeling truly awful. And when I felt awful, I ate more. Then I felt awful for eating more. So I ate. It was a vicious cycle, and I knew that it had to stop. If I wanted to sustain a second pregnancy any time in the near future,  I knew my body had to be healthy.

I’ve heard from several new moms that this Backlash is a common occurrence. The baby weight all but disappears, and then when you’re least expecting it, piles back on again (often just in time to start trying for the next baby). But just because it’s common doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and let it happen to me. Thanks to my naturopath, a ton of reading and researching, and a new Fitbit from J, I have an action plan for the new year. I know it’s cliche to jump on the ‘New Year, New You’ bandwagon, and honestly, it just happens to be the timing of this whole thing. I know I want another baby. I know I want to feel more comfortable with my body before we try for another baby. I’d really like my clothes to fit again. And a new year (plus weeks of holiday eating) mean this is the perfect time to start.

Here are five things I’m going to do to get my body back in gear:

1. Take 10,000 steps a day. This doesn’t seem like a lot of activity for those of you who are…well…active. But for me, even sticking with this basic FitBit goal, I’ll be getting more exercise than I have in months.

2. Drink 2L of water daily. I am notoriously bad for going days without drinking water. I could down 4 cups of coffee without blinking, but water is always a struggle. So another goal is to up my water intake; I know I’ll feel better.

3. Get 100g of protein. By focusing on the protein in my meals, I’ll avoid carbs and get the nutrients my body really needs. I’m thinking of Greek yogurt, protein powder smoothies, and plenty of lean meats.

4. Take my supplements. I’ve spent a fortune over the last year on naturopathic consults and supplements, and I have completely stopped taking them. I know that getting back into a routine will help, and my body will thank me for the extra vitamins, minerals, and hormone-balancing help.

5. Cut the sugar. My kitchen table right now is piled high with Christmas baking, gumdrop cake, boxes of chocolates, 3/4 of a Terry’s Chocolate Orange, and a box of Jelly Bellies. Every single one of these things is tempting me, and every single one of them will just send my insulin-resistant body deeper into a funk. So I’ll have a bite of gumdrop cake, take the chocolates to my neighbour, and save those Jelly Bellies for my next road trip.

Do you have any health-related plans for the New Year? Did you experience the postpartum Backlash?

Keeping It Clean: 5 Things My Mama Taught Me

For the majority of the time I lived at home, my Mama didn’t work (outside the house). Even now, she runs the house, volunteers, is active at church, and has a great social life. As busy as she is, her house is always immaculate. You can tell people live there (the couches aren’t covered in plastic), but I’m always amazed at how she keeps up with the chores. Though I’m still learning (and its tough with a 7 month old underfoot), here are the top 5 lessons my Mama taught me about keeping house.

1. Set a timer: Its often tough to get going when you’re faced with 40 minutes of “free” time. We all want to crash on the couch and watch some TV, but that’s not reality.  Choose one task that you need to do, and set the kitchen timer for 10 minutes. Wash dishes, fold laundry, or iron clothes for those 10 minutes. You’ll be amazed at how much you get done in a short space of time, and the feeling of accomplishment often gives you the boost you need to keep going.

2. Clean as you go: Staring down a sink-full of dishes or a gunky bathroom fills me with dread. I know it will take ages to finish, and I often leave things longer than I should. Mama’s solution? Clean as you go. Every time you brush your teeth, wipe down the sink, tap and counters. Use a coffee mug in the morning? Put it in the dishwasher or wash it and put it away. A twenty-second investment now saves you a twenty-minute chore later

3. Do what you like: Its hard to know where to start when you’re faced with a 40-minute naptime and an 80-point to-do list. But everybody has that one task that makes them feel accomplished; for Mama, its vacuuming or steam-cleaning. Start with the most enjoyable task; you’ll feel like you got something done, and it won’t drain all of your energy off the bat. (If you hate cleaning…choose the *least* hated chore. For me, that’d be folding laundry)

4. Clean & tidy are two different things: You need to decide what level of ‘clean’ you’re comfortable with in your home. For Mama, her house is always clean AND tidy. For me, if I can manage clean, I’m happy. The difference? Clean means healthy; germ-free, no smelly garbage or gunky dishes lying around, a swept kitchen floor. Tidy means visibly orderly. No papers on the counter top, toys put away in bins. Choose which you’re content with; if you can handle a pile of folded laundry on the stairs, don’t stress about it. If clutter drives you crazy, figure out how to simplify. To each her own.

5. Take time to rest: Mama does all of this while dealing with chronic, debilitating pain & fatigue. So she knows the value of a rest. As a new mom, I’m also grateful for time in the day to sit down. Whether you set a timer for a 20-minute lay-down during naptime, or you allow yourself a second cup of coffee during Ellen, take a bit of time for you. You’ll feel more accomplished, better rested, and generally happier during the day.

What valuable lessons have you learned from your mama?

Back to Nature: The Weight Loss Edition

Over the last 3 years of Baking&Babies, I’ve done several posts about my visits to naturopathic doctors, and the various treatments I’ve tried. At first it was for general health and weight loss, then for PCOS and infertility, then for depression and anxiety, and now we’ve come full circle and I’m back on the general health and weight loss wagon.

Here’s the thing. I’ve lost the baby weight. It was gone by about 6 months postpartum. But I’m not saying that to brag. I’m saying that because, though the scale says I’m back to ‘normal’, I know that’s not true. Having a baby does some weird things to your body, folks. I’ve got this weird muffin top/spare tire hanging out around my waist, my hips are wider than they were before, and there are some bizarre inner-thigh lumps that have tagged along. I’m not ashamed of my postpartum body….but I’m not content to leave it the way it is.

A big part of my issue when it comes to weight loss is that pesky PCOS. I’m insulin-resistant, and I hold on to fat like nobody’s business. Combine that with a sluggish thyroid, sloooooow metabolism, and general love of all things carbohydrate, and I’m a bit of a weight loss nightmare.

So, besides upping the exercise and ditching the cupcakes, what is my naturopath recommending for me? Here’s a glimpse into my treatment plan.

*note: I’m not a medical professional. These recommendations were made for my specific situation. If you want to try any of these treatments, I’d recommend finding a naturopath….or at least don’t hold me accountable if you don’t see results*

Greens +: this is a super-concentrated green powder that contains a ton of vitamins, minerals and anti-oxidants. It gives me an added boost of veggies without requiring me to eat a metric ton of spinach daily.

Power Seeds: I’ve written about these before – an equal mix of flax, chia and hemp seeds to add protein, help with blood sugar regulation, and give some added nutrition.

Inositol: helps with the breakdown of fats, insulin regulation and control of blood sugar.

Protein: I’m supposed to aim for roughly 100g protein per day. This is WAY more than I was eating before, but is helping with energy and keeping me full longer. One way I make sure to get my protein is with a vegan protein powder; one serving adds about 25g protein to my morning smoothie.

Water: this is probably the single best nutrition tip I’ve received. How many pounds do you weigh? Cut that in half, and aim for at least that number of ounces of water per day. This can be plain water, water infused with fruits or other flavours, or even herbal tea (as long as it is unsweetened and uncaffeinated). Just chug that water – you’ll feel much better!

Double Digits: A 10 Month Update

We’ve hit double digits already…Miss K is ten months old today. I have about 1.5 months left at home with her before work starts again, and I can’t believe how fast its all going. She learns something new just about every day, and my mind is blown when she shows me something new. She’s hilarious, smart, and adorable (I can say it…I’m her mom), and I am so blessed to have this little peanut in my lift.

The Stats:
Height: 27 inches
Weight: 18 lbs
Sleep: is a battle. She sleeps roughly 8pm – 8am, waking up at 1:00am and 5:00am to nurse. Naps are hit or miss; she needs two, but fights like crazy. Most days she has one.
Favourite Foods: yogurt, hummus, fish sticks, cheese, oatmeal, smoothies.
Words: signs ‘more’, ‘milk’ and ‘all done’, says ‘more’, ‘tickle’, ‘woof’, ‘dada’ and ‘mmmmm’ for Mama and milk (I AM both mama and milk to her)
Milestones: plays peekaboo, climbs everything, stands alone for about 10 seconds, barks at the dogs, blows raspberries, is generally just hilarious.

Happy Birthday, B&B!

Baking and Babies has been around for three whole years already. It started as a way for me to express my feelings regarding our infertility, and to share some recipes along the way. I connected with a few other bloggers, always anonymously, and I don’t know how I would have coped with our infertility struggle without the community I found.

Now, it serves as a sounding board, a discussion forum, and still a place to share my recipes. Whether you’ve been a long time reader or you’re just popping in because my posts pollute your newsfeed, thank you! These last three years have been a blast!

Accidental Baby Led Weaning

When K was four months old, the doctor suggested starting her on rice cereal. She was a little peanut in the weight department, and he thought it might help her sleep through the night (haven’t we all heard a variation on this?) So, just before Christmas, we started spoon-feeding her a brown-rice cereal…and she loved it! Gobbled up bowl after bowl…until her stomach protested. She had gas pains, constipation, and really struggled to go to the bathroom. So we backed off until 6 months, when we attempted to introduce other foods.

I prided myself in making all of my own baby food for K. I whipped up combinations like pear and ginger, avocado and lime, and cinnamon peach. And though we offered a spoon to K several times a day, she wanted nothing to do with these purées.

We had decent success with store-bought pouches; she seemed to love them! So I ordered some reusable ones from Amazon; this way, my farmers-market-fresh fruits and veggies wouldn’t go to waste. But the little stinker knew the difference, and would ONLY eat the store bought pouches. Puffs were a hit, as were Cheerios…but a baby can’t survive on carbs alone!

By the time she hit nine months, she had 6 teeth, was skinny as a string bean, and still only showed limited interest in food. Knowing full well that she needed to be eating something other than breastmilk and puffs by the time I went back to work in August, we tried seeing what food she showed an interest in.

And wouldn’t you know it, she was interested in ANYTHING from my plate. Hot, cold, breakfast, dinner- it didn’t matter. If I was eating it with a fork or spoon, K wanted some. So that’s what we started giving her. Slowly at first, because gagging freaks the heck out of me, but then with more gusto as we realized the kid would eat almost anything!

Avocado, black beans, chicken, tofu (in spicy peanut sauce!), fish sticks, pasta salad…anything she could chew and gum, she devoured.

We’re sitting here just shy of 10 months, and after a good 4 months of struggling, I can confidently say that K is a good eater. She learned the sign for ‘more’ quickly; the faster she signs, the faster she can cram her face. I can’t sit down with a plate before she’s pulling up on my lap, saying ‘mmm’ and signing ‘more’.

I didn’t plan on baby led weaning , frankly, the idea of her gagging and choking freaked me right out. But BLW found us, and it’s been easier, healthier, and more fun than I could have imagined!

Beautiful Breakfasts: Coconut Granola

We’ve been on a bit of a health kick lately. I say that lightly, because while I have been watching what I’m eating, that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for the occasional chocolate cake. However, I’ve got a bit of baby weight left to lose, and cupcakes for breakfast just haven’t been helping with that.

I tend to get fixated on one specific breakfast at a time. First it was overnight refrigerator oatmeal. Then it was rye toast with peanut butter and bananas. And now, its granola.

Chewy, crunchy, toasty, wonderful granola. With bananas and almond milk, on fruit salad, or (my favourite), mixed into Greek yogurt. And because its so easy to make, I can whip up a batch at the beginning of the week, and have breakfast (and snacks) for the next several days. Plus, its easily customizable; nuts, cranberries, coconut, trail mix, seeds, chocolate chips…whatever you’d like can be stirred in. Give it a try – and let me know what great combinations you come up with!

Breakfast Granola:

4 cups quick cooking oats
1/2 cup coconut oil (or vegetable oil if you prefer)
1/2 cup honey or maple syrup
1 tbsp brown sugar
1 tbsp cinnamon
2 tbsp each chia, flax and hemp seeds
1 cup unsweetened flaked coconut*
1 cup trail mix *
*replace these with 2 cups of anything you’d like. Dried cranberries, banana chips, nuts, seeds, etc.

Mix all ingredients together well. Spread on a greased baking sheet, and bake at 300 degrees for an hour, stirring well every 15 minutes. Let cool completely on the pan. Store in an airtight container for a week to 10 days.

In Which I Explain Myself

I’ve been solo parenting this week as J’s been away at a conference…and let me tell you, I have a new-found admiration for single parents. I’m incredibly grateful to have lots of family and friends nearby to help out.

That being said, you now have the explanation for my lack of posts in the last week or so. In case you’re curious, I did post over at Mommy Hot Spot this week, sharing tips and tricks that my mama taught me about keeping house. Sure, my housekeeping won’t win any awards, but maybe you’ll learn something. Check it out here.

It was also our four year wedding anniversary on Thursday, so I’m getting all mushy and posting one of my favourite photos from our wedding. Photo credits go to the amazingly talented Michael Steingard. Check out his incredible work…believe me, its worth the hour you’ll spend drooling over gorgeous photos.

I’ll get back to posting soon. I’m venturing into the land of Paleo treats in the next little while, thanks in large part to a sugar-free commitment I made with a few friends. We’ll see how that goes. If you know me in real life, I apologize in advance for whatever comes out of my mouth in my sugar-deprived state. I have a feeling there may be a few more expletives than normal.

And as always, if you have a recipe, story, or awesome article to share, send me an email ( bakingandbabiesblog@gmail.com). I’m always looking for exciting new guest posters!