What Are We Supposed to Feed This Boy?

We had a fairly good idea that Ryan would develop food allergies from the time he was a few months old. So, we tried to follow all of “the rules”. He had only breast milk for the first six months and then we gradually introduced him to foods least likely to cause reactions…the same things most moms do when they are starting their babies on solid foods. And since I was breastfeeding, I even cut out peanuts out of my diet and reduced my dairy intake. I tried, but I couldn’t give up chocolate…I am only human!

When Ryan was about ten months old, I gave him a piece of the cheese that I was shredding for Rebecca. I’m not sure what I was thinking…it was just automatic. And I should say that it wasn’t a slice of cheese…it was a shred of cheese…a teensy little shred. After eating it he started to throw up….instantly. That totally freaked me out. Luckily, he didn’t get wheezy and there were no other symptoms of anaphylaxis, but I took that as a warning sign. As much as I would like to deny it, this boy was going to have severe allergies.

For the next couple of years we kept Ryan away from some of the common pediatric food allergens: milk, peanuts, soy, egg, wheat, and citrus. He ate meat, vegetables, some fruit, and arrowroot cookies – lots of arrowroot cookies. We eventually found substitutes for the foods that we enjoyed so that he could eat something similar. If we had pizza, we would make him meatballs and spaghetti. If Rebecca was having ice cream, Ryan could have gelato. If we were having birthday cake, Ryan would have a rice krispy square decorated with sprinkles. You have no idea how many birthday cakes I’ve ruined because I tried to follow recipes that were dairy and egg free. Ryan didn’t like them…and neither did the rest of us.

When Ryan was about to enter nursery school I talked to our doctor about getting Ryan tested so that we would know exactly what he was allergic to. So, when Ryan was almost three, we went to see an allergist. First, they did the skin test. Ryan sat on my knee facing me, so the nurse could poke his back six times with the lancet dipped in the pediatric allergens. The nurse left the room for a few minutes, and when she came back her reaction almost floored me. Her jaw dropped and she said, “What are you going to feed this kid?” Just the response I was looking for…great. They also did the RAST test, which is a blood test measuring the allergen-specific IgE antibody. Combined, these tests showed that Ryan was severely allergic to peanuts, milk, soy and egg. I was terrified…even though I had expected this, I was scared for what this would mean for Ryan – if we are not careful, his next bite might be his last.

Three years later, Ryan is thriving. We’ve had a few “accidents” with food, but his strongest reactions are vomiting…and that’s all. He carries his epi-pen with him wherever he goes, and at school he has a student volunteer that watches him at lunch in case he has a reaction when a teacher is not close by. I’d love to get him tested again, but he still remembers the skin test and blood work that he had to do last time. Maybe when he’s seven I can convince him to do it…just in the small hope that he might have outgrown one of his allergies. And if Ryan does outgrow his allergies he says the first thing he wants to eat is ice cream and chocolate…that’s my boy!!

Hard Work

It’s been almost three years since we moved to Owen Sound…three years since I quit my nursing job in Peterborough. It was an ideal job for me. I was a visiting nurse with a community agency that has a self-scheduling philosophy. We worked in small teams and could manage our own schedules and caseloads. I worked two evening shifts per week and then one weekend per month. It was a great way to keep my skills current, yet stay home with my children most of the time. I could work at my own pace; take my time and do treatments and procedures the way we were trained. No short cuts. I felt great at the end of my shifts.

I’ve been missing my job a lot this week. I miss the clients – how happy they were to see me and how grateful they were for my help. I miss the days that seemed to flow so smoothly that it really felt that I was on the right path. I miss the moments that I was in the right place at the right time. Like the day I had a feeling to see a certain client at the end of the day instead of in the morning. When I arrived, his wife was just beginning to have symptoms of a stroke. I also miss my managers – someone in my corner to tell me when I was doing a great job. Almost like cheerleaders. I sure wish stay-at-home moms had cheerleaders.

I miss my old job most when I’ve had a rough week with the kids. This was one of those weeks…and it seemed to drag on forever. Ryan developed a sore throat last Friday, so we were up more than normal for a few nights as his chest began to tighten up. Then Rebecca started to get sick on Sunday with a really runny nose and dry cough. And you would think that being housebound might mean the house would be tidier. Nope…it’s actually even worse than normal. To top it all off our computer stopped working this week. I hope we get it fixed soon…we’ll have a mutiny on our hands if the kids can’t feed their WebKinz.

Ahhh…but it’s finally Friday. Jason has the weekend off and we’ll be able to recover from our week from hell. I’ll be able to clean the house tomorrow with everyone’s help…hopefully with minimal nagging. And my little cheerleader, Sarah, has just tucked her dolls into bed – kissing them softly on the forehead and whispering “I love you”. Maybe I won’t go back to work after all…

Being Short

Ryan is small for his age – he’s at the very bottom of the boys’ normal growth curve. Being an allergic child may have a small part in that, but his genes probably play a greater role in his stature. You see, I’m only 4’ 10” tall – and almost every branch on our family tree is littered with small people. I never really thought it was a big deal – to be honest I sometimes forget that I’m short. That is until an average-sized ten-year-old stands beside me.

So, what bothers me about being short? It’s a royal pain having to get a stool to reach the second and third shelves in our kitchen cabinets…and trying to reach the upper shelves at the grocery store is impossible. If there’s nobody looking I take a page out of Amy Roloff’s book and climb up the shelves to reach what I need. (Amy is the mom on TLC’s Little People Big World – I love that show. That is until Rogers took away my free channels…damn you, Rogers!) I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve adapted to being short. It’s not such a big deal for me anymore. Apparently, it’s a bigger deal for short men.

Last week I watched Howard Goldberg’s documentary: “S&M: Short and Male”. It was a fantastic, humorous look into how short men fare in our society – and it totally freaked me out! According to the experts featured in this doc, Ryan will have his work cut out for him. They claim that women are hard-wired to choose tall mates. He better stay cute, otherwise he’s going to have a hard time getting dates. He’s also going to have to work harder to earn a living…because a man’s annual income increases $1,000 per inch of height. Heck, even 99% of sperm banks in the US have a height requirement of 5’11”.

What made me really upset is that instead of being supportive of short boys, some parents are giving them potentially dangerous hormone injections and even going so far as having their legs broken and putting them in traction for 3 months so they can gain two inches of height. Is it really that important? Come on…

So, as Murphy’s Law would have it, my two daughters are going to be of average height like their dad…and Ryan will most likely be short like me. I don’t know who Murphy is…but I’d like to give him a swift kick!

Asthma

Ryan was born the week after Hallowe’en – which is one of my favourite holidays. When I was hugely pregnant with him, I dressed up as a pumpkin and I sure didn’t need to use the crinoline to look round. Another benefit of having a baby near Hallowe’en is that you have a ready-made birthday party theme. Hallowe’en parties are the best – and when you mix it with a birthday party you get presents! Awesome.

One drawback of having a baby in the fall, however, is that they will be developing right in the middle of cold and flu season.

When Ryan was born, my daughter Rebecca was two and had just started going to nursery school a few mornings a week. She thrived at ‘school’…along with every virus known to mankind. We were all sick a lot that fall, and caught a particularly nasty bug after Christmas. Ryan’s cold started out as a runny nose, but gradually his chest got wheezy and it didn’t get better with time. Luckily, we had already been bringing Ryan to a Nurse Practitioner. I called her in the morning, and within a few hours we were sitting in her office. She assessed Ryan and called a paediatrician who agreed to meet us at the emergency department before he started his rounds.

I still remember how the doctor looked when he said, “Ryan has eczema and asthma…in all likelihood he will develop food allergies as well. The writing is on the wall”. I wasn’t overly shocked…after Ryan had developed eczema I had been researching the subject like a fiend and understood that eczema, asthma, and food allergies were often linked as a “triple threat”. The paediatrician decided to admit Ryan for the night so they could stabilize his breathing. I barely held back the tears as I called my husband. Jason left work immediately so that he could look after Rebecca. In my heart, I knew Ryan would be fine…but just the thought that my baby was sick enough to require hospitalization felt awful. We were already dealing with his crazy skin condition, but now asthma. I didn’t even want to think about food allergies...

Through the night Ryan was treated with pediapred (a form of predisone used to treat children and infants with inflammation problems) and ventolin with the nebulizer. While I absolutely hated spending the whole night at the hospital, Ryan was a trooper. Even through his nebulizer treatments, he would look up at his nurse and smile at her. The water vapour made clouds around his little face and he sounded like Darth Vader behind the mask. Ryan responded well to the treatments and we went home the next morning with inhalers in hand.

At first Ryan hated taking the inhalers with his aerochamber mask. It must have felt terrible to him. He would hold his breath and try to wriggle away from the mask; even with my nursing background it felt wrong to be holding a foreign object so tightly over my baby’s face. With time we both became more comfortable with this new routine. Some days were easier than others. For a few days after Ryan was discharged from the hospital, we had to slowly wean him off the Pediapred. This medication came in the form of a horrible tasting liquid, and it was a true Battle Royale to get Ryan to take it. We had to restrain him so that we could get the syringe into his mouth, but he would scream and cry so much that he would eventually throw the medication up. At one point I just couldn’t take it any more. I started sobbing, handed the syringe to Jason and fled to another room. Listening to him choking and crying from the other room wasn’t easier. After 20 seconds I returned, grabbed the syringe back from Jason and said, “Let me do it!” Poor Jason…not only did he have to deal with a sick baby, but a nut-job of a wife as well.

There was only one other time that Ryan had to be admitted to the hospital. His asthma only flared up when he caught a cold, so as soon as his nose started to run we would ramp up his treatment to prevent an asthma attack. And though the Pediapred never became easier to administer, we did enjoy its benefits. Not only did it help to make his lungs more patent, but it made the eczema much more manageable – for a day or two, anyway.

Now if we could have just gotten some sleep...

Dirty Doula

I’m going to stray from the topic of allergies for a moment because we’ve been dealing with a delicate issue at my house for the last few weeks. It’s hard to talk about our dilemma in public because it’s something that most people like to keep private. So here goes…it’s about BM’s. And I don’t mean Big Macs or Brian Mulroney – I’m talking about poo.

My toddler Sarah has decided that she doesn’t like to poo. I’m not sure why, exactly, but she spends a lot of energy trying to hold it all in. Maybe she doesn’t like the physical feeling…or not having control over her own body. Or maybe it’s because she’s our last child and she senses that when she is toilet trained we are free and clear! At this point, I don’t really care why because I’m just plain sick of it.

It’s almost like Sarah has two distinct personalities. That’s right – I’m living with the Two Faces of Sarah: pre- and post-poop. While she’s holding in a BM she looks like the girl from The Exorcist. She drops onto the floor on her hands and knees, contorting her body in any way possible to slow that peristalsis down. Sarah doesn’t seem shy about this poop-stopping dance – she does it almost everywhere…on the floor beside the dining room table (where our dinner party guests are seated), at the top of the slide at the park, or even in the middle of the automotive aisle at Canadian Tire. It’s getting to the point that my oldest daughter, Rebecca, will say, “Mom…she’s doing it…AGAIN!!”

You can imagine that after a day of these performances, her body is really ready to get rid of this waste. So, when she finally has to give in and poo, it takes a lot of work. It’s similar to birth…Sarah gets red, sweaty and does a lot of grunting and yelling. That would make me the doula, because she chooses to do it all when she’s sitting on my lap. Not quite the pretty picture of motherhood that you see on the formula cans, is it?

Ah…but when the deed is finally done Sarah is herself again - dancing to Hannah Montana, playing hide-and-seek with her brother and sister, and singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Tar”. I’m hoping in a few weeks this lovely stage will be over. For now, I’ll just add doula to my ever-growing lists of motherly duties.

Managing Eczema - What Worked for Ryan

All right…let’s get down to the nitty-gritty. When Ryan’s eczema was at its peak, this is what worked for us:

1. Wearing clothing that breathes well – it’s easy to find baby clothes that are 100% cotton. No polyester, fleece, or wool. My struggle was finding socks without polyester – Ryan’s ankles were always covered in eczema! Overheating can be a trigger for eczema – so don’t overdress your little rashy one.

2. Sunlight – Ryan’s eczema was always better in the summer because we made sure he had about 15 minutes exposure to the sun every day. He loved lying in the backyard on a blanket with just a diaper on.

3. Moisturize – We bathed Ryan once or twice daily in a warm (not too warm – it depletes the skin of moisture) bath. As soon as we took Ryan out of the tub I would pat his skin down gently with a towel and put a light moisturizer on immediately. This helps to seal the moisture from the bath into the skin. Ryan’s skin was so dry that he could sit in the tub for 15 minutes and not get wrinkly toes! Our favourite moisturizer was the Aveeno Baby unscented lotion. Sometimes we used just plain old olive oil to keep his skin moist, as well. Here’s the trick - if your moisturizer is too thick (or if you apply too much), it might not allow the skin to keep cool. I found that overheating was a major trigger for Ryan’s flare-ups.

4. Food Triggers – Finding food triggers can be hard. My paediatrician told me that I would probably never clear up Ryan’s eczema just by omitting certain foods from his diet. Here are the some common pediatric food allergens – nuts, milk, soy, egg, wheat and citrus. Since I was breastfeeding Ryan I avoided milk and nuts. Well – except for the odd Reese’s peanut butter cup…nobody’s perfect.

5. Laundry Tips – We used Tide Free – it’s unscented and dye-free. I also added ¼ cup of vinegar to the rinse cycle – someone suggested that it helped get rid of the extra detergent from the clothes. I have no idea if it helped…but it certainly didn’t hurt. For Ryan’s clothes we used no dryer sheets…shocking, literally.

6. Dust Mites – Some people’s skin can be sensitive to dust mites, so it’s a good idea to keep your baby’s room as clean as possible. This was my short-fall. How can you possibly keep the house immaculately clean if your baby is itchy and does not want to be put down!? We covered Ryan’s mattress with a plastic covering – I even duct-taped the zipper closed to make the cover air-tight. Vacuum regularly and keep your pets out of the baby’s room. Wash the baby’s bedding frequently in hot water.

7. Medication Regime – Set up a medication regime with your health care professional. This was our regime: A) When the skin was just dry and a little bit red we used a simple moisturizer. B) If the skin became cracked we used Fucidin (an antibiotic cream), and if this cracked area was exposed to dry, wintry weather we used a Vaseline-based antibiotic ointment as an extra barrier. C) When the skin became more ‘angry’ looking – red around the cracks and oozing just a bit we would use Fudicin – H (which had a small amount of hydrocortisone cream in it). I would use the hydrocortisone based creams for a max of 5 days – it causes thinning of the skin and is less effective if used for a prolonged period of time. We would also visit our nurse practitioner and paediatrician quite regularly. Sometimes you need a fresh set of eyes to assess the situation!

This is what helped for Ryan…luckily after he turned one his eczema became less of an issue. And that’s when the food allergies began…

Word of Advice...Don't Give Any!

People love babies – to the point that it’s hard to navigate a grocery store with a baby in your cart. Complete strangers will stop to admire and talk to little ones. It makes complete sense – we’re hard-wired to love them. Unfortunately, people also love to make comments and give advice…really stupid advice.

Now picture me walking through a grocery store with baby Ryan in my cart. The photos I posted of Ryan were on his good days – we didn’t take pictures of him on the bad days. Anyone peeking into Ryan’s infant carrier was surprised to see his face – which sadly looked like ground beef with eyes and a nose on some days.

We heard a lot of advice – I don’t really remember most of it. What I do remember, unfortunately, is the advice that had undertones of “you’re a terrible mother”. This was a good one: “You should bring that baby to a doctor!” Seriously… Not only were we on first name basis with our beloved paediatrician, we were also funding our pharmacist’s trip to Bermuda with all of the creams and ointments Ryan needed.

Here’s another question that I loved: “Did you roll your baby in poison ivy?” Oh yes…life with a toddler and a newborn is not nearly exciting enough. Let’s roll the baby in groundcover to spice things up a bit! Please…

I think the most interesting advice was this: “Have you tried rubbing pee on your baby’s skin?” Ummm….NO. Apparently, there used to be some urea-based creams that had some effect on eczema. Maybe it’s me, but it just sounds wrong to pee on a baby.

I hope I don’t sound too bitter. Please remember that I was hearing all of these comments under the haze of sleeplessness. This could also account for the fact that I remember these advice-givers as having crazy hair, red irises, and really sharp teeth. But, they were probably just regular folk trying to help.

Do you want to hear the comment that finally made me cry? One older man looked at Ryan and said, “Oh…you look familiar. My son had eczema like that when he was a baby. He’s fine now.” And for one split second I saw some light at the end of our tunnel.