Well, folks, we've survived four (and a half) months! At his four month appointment, he weighed in at 17 lbs, 14 oz, and was 26 inches long! So, obviously, still growing like crazy. In fact, I've got a ton of 12-month clothes in the washer, and I'm afraid they're actually going to fit him. As happy as I am to be out of the tiny newborn phase, I do miss my tiny guy.
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| He loves his bunny. I made it just for him to chew on. |
Aside from growing like a weed, we've been working on tummy time. He's not a fan, to be honest. Actually, he learned how to roll over from his back to his stomach on Valentine's Day. For about a week, he'd roll onto his belly, realize what was happening, and then cry until I flipped him back over. And he did this over and over and over, all day long. It must have finally sunk in, because for the next two weeks, he didn't roll over at all. He'd go onto his side, but not back to his stomach.
So, we've been doing way more tummy time, and he's slowly starting to stay there for longer periods before he starts to freak out. Well, either freak out, or give up, which means he lays his head down and chews on his fingers or starts licking whatever surface he's laying on.
I'm almost four weeks into eliminating wheat and nuts from my diet, and while I'm seeing tiny bits of improvement, he's still having GI symptoms (read: mucusy poop). It's really hard to tell what's setting it off, though, because I keep accidentally ingesting soy (because it's in every-fucking-thing). So, maybe he's allergic to something else I'm eating, or maybe he's reacting to the fact that the store I shop at changed the recipe for their rotisserie chicken so it now includes soybean oil, and I didn't read the label because the first ten times I checked the label it was safe. Or, the frozen peas and carrots I use to make fried rice are safe from one store, but another store's bag of peas and carrots for some illogical stupid reason has to contain soy. (Sorry, ranting. It happens a lot these days.)
Out of the top eight allergens, I've eliminated six (dairy, soy, wheat, tree nuts, peanuts, and shellfish), plus beef. That leaves corn and eggs as my next two choices. I can't decide which one should go. I eat a ton of corn these days because I can't have wheat. I don't eat as much egg simply because it's easier to avoid and I've been trying to narrow things down as much as possible so that when he has a bad reaction I might have some clue what caused it. The logical answer here is corn, but I don't want to.
See, this is the kind of shit I never dreamed of having to deal with. I kind of feel like after everything we went through to even have a baby, I should have some kind of karmic free pass. Now, I know I could be less stubborn and just put him on formula and stuff my face full of pizza and chocolate chip cookies (and believe me, there are days I consider it), but good grief. Let's look at some things.
At 24, I somehow herniated a disc. I had to have it surgically removed because it had no fluid left in it. No one can tell me how this happened or if it might happen again with another disc, even though I heard a million times from medical professionals that a herniated disc isn't something you see in a young, otherwise healthy person who hasn't suffered some kind of trauma.
I have PCOS and endometriosis (with a touch of hypothyroidism for good measure), which not only make me less fertile, but also put me at a higher risk of miscarriage, and cancer later on. (Not to mention the beard. And the extra weight. Wait... yeah. I just made the beard sound worse than cancer. Ugh.)
Jack stayed breech so I had to have a c-section. By the way, the chiropractor I was seeing to help loosen everything up to help him flip head-down seemed to think that it might have something to do with my back problems, which means there is a good chance that any children I have are more likely to be breech babies.
So... damaged spine? Check.
Several factors that compromise fertility? Check.
Beard? (Hey, it's laugh or cry, people.) Check.
Not able to have crunchy, med-free birth? Check.
See? I just feel like the Universe should have at least given me food. That's all I'm asking. Let me breastfeed my baby and eat food like a normal human being. I just want a fucking cookie and a piece of pizza. Not even every day. Just, maybe once or twice a month would be great.
Okay. I think I'm done ranting.
I have actually been able to find some recipes that make me feel a little bit more normal.
Last weekend, I made this orange chicken, because I've been craving Chinese food like you wouldn't believe. I had to make a special trip to the health food store for some coconut aminos (soy sauce substitute), but it was totally worth it. BoyWonder wasn't a fan, but only because I used fresh ginger instead of dried, and I got a little crazy with it. It was a little bit much even for me. So next time, I'll go easy on that. Otherwise, not bad.
And then I made these black bean brownies. I've had something similar before, when my mom started her elimination diet. This recipe was a little better, though. They were super fudgy, though. I like them that way, but next time I make them I'll probably bake them longer to see if I can get them to firm up just a little bit. And I might add some coconut, just for kicks. Oh. And a warning. They're mostly black beans and oatmeal. If you happen to eat the entire pan of them in 24-hours, you might experience some... discomfort. Or your husband might tell you that you smell (if you have a baby, though, you can totally blame that on him). The up-side? Even if you eat the whole pan, it's really only a can of beans and a handful of oatmeal. Yeah, there's some sugar, and half a cup of chocolate chips, but I refuse to feel guilty about eating a can of beans, even if they're sugary and full of chocolate. (maybethisiswhyicantloseweight)
Oh! I almost forgot my happy moment of the week! Chipotle stopped using soybean oil in everything except their tortillas. I always order a bowl when we go there anyway, so that doesn't even bother me. The important thing here is that I can eat at Chipotle again! That means that out of the entire city of Wichita, there are now two places I can eat (not counting grocery stores). It doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but it makes my life so much easier. I don't have to pack a cooler of food (or stuff my purse/diaper bag full of granola bars) when I leave the house.
Is it weird that I want to send Chipotle a thank-you card for this?
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