lydia : an urban crunchy mama

In the days leading up to our trip, I cross-referenced several blogs and websites for the most gluten-free friendly restaurants on The Strip. While I was initially a bit wary of eating away from home for an extended period of time, I became excited about the possibilities as I uncovered nuggets of information during my research. I write this post with the intention of helping other gluten intolerant folks find safe and tasty food in Las Vegas.

Note: Before each restaurant meal, I took digestive enzymes to help my body digest any gluten that might have accidentally found its way to my plate. This is not an invitation for “cheating,” just a precautionary measure. If you are gluten intolerant, I recommend talking to your health care provider before taking any supplements and making your own best judgement about what is safe for you to eat.

San Francisco International Airport (SFO): Terminal Two
We had never flown on Virgin America before so we took this opportunity to check it out, which also meant we also had the opportunity to check out the newly renovated Terminal Two. Wow. Welcome to the 21st century in airport design. Aside from the standard TSA chaos, nearly everything else about the airport experience feels different. But I am here to talk about food. While I did not have time to research every option in the terminal thoroughly, I know where I am likely to go next time I am there.

I was squealing with excitement over seeing The Plant Cafe Organic but ultimately disappointed when I picked up their menu and did not see very many gluten-free options. I was hoping to find their usual gluten-free friendliness (as exhibited in their other locations), but it was not so. All they had was one cookie option, a quinoa bowl, a fruit cup, nothing really substantial. I was really hoping they would serve their spring rolls. Darn. I walked over to Wakaba Sushi and Noodle, but I didn’t feel like eating sushi or waiting in line to ask if their curry bowls were gluten-free. I might inquire next time. Where did I find myself in airport heaven? (Yes, I think I did hear angels sing.) At Napa Farms Market. What did I find there? GT’s Passionberry kombucha. Gluten-free cupcakes from Kara’s Cupcakes. Local cheeses. Coconut water. The list goes on. As the name suggests, it was like stepping into a general store in Napa for picnicky, snacky foods. What did I have for lunch? I was really hoping that the porchetta was gluten-free because it was a thing of culinary beauty. Alas, it was not gluten-free because it contains breadcrumbs. (sigh) I opted for a chicken leg, asparagus, and roasted potatoes at Tyler Florence’s Rotisserie after consulting with one of the staff who knowledgeably talked to me about the ingredients in the chicken’s brine. The chicken was moist and flavorful. The asparagus served their purpose as my vege side, and the potatoes were in need of more cook time. Overall, I was thrilled to have quick, quality, well-prepared food at the airport.

On to Vegas…

Breakfasts
In the name of ease and to decrease the risk of cross-contamination, we did not try any of the many buffet options. I stuck to bacon, eggs, hash browns, and fruit at various restaurants. We ate at Mandalay Bay’s Raffles Cafe on the first morning, and, unfortunately, the food was less than stellar. The mushrooms in my spinach and mushroom omelet were nearly raw, and the entire omelet was sadly under-seasoned and over-cooked. The hash browns suffered the same tasteless fate. My fruit cup was prepared well in advance and sitting in an ice-cold refrigerator up until the moment it was served to me. The quality and flavor of the strawberries, pineapples, melons, and blueberries matched the rest of my dismal meal.

On the second morning, I ordered a three-egg omelet containing bell peppers, mushrooms, and spinach, an accompaniment of hash browns, and (snagged Taylor’s leftover) bacon at the Mandalay Bay’s Crossroads at House of Blues. The overall quality of the food’s preparation exceeded that of Raffles. The omelet’s ingredients were better seasoned, and the eggs were less spongy. The bacon was nice and crisp, and the hash browns were satisfyingly crunchy and flavorful.

On the third morning, we ventured over to THEhotel’s THEcafe, the swankiest of all of our breakfasts on this trip. Distracted by the kiddies, I forgot to order an omelet (for consistency of comparison) and ordered a bowl of (over-priced) berries, two eggs over-easy, hash browns, and bacon instead. The berries were served at an appropriate temperature and sweet enough for me to gobble them up without much thought (as I assisted in the organization of Taylor’s pile of school work). The eggs were prepared correctly, and the rest of the meal was cooked well enough (that I didn’t give it much notice) but not well enough for me to recommend that anyone make a special trip for this breakfast.

Lunches
Taylor and I took a cab to the Whole Foods just south of The Strip to buy some organic fruit for Jameson, and while we were there we picked up some fixin’s for lunch. What did we eat with only a wet bar (and without a stove or kitchen gadgets) in our hotel suite? Passionberry kombucha. Gluten-free table crackers. Tuna packed in olive oil (in a jar, as opposed to a can). Gluten-free ranch dressing (for mixing in with the tuna). Roasted nori strips. Pre-washed baby carrots. I bought a package of compostable, paper bowls and grabbed a couple of utensils from the prepared foods area.

Jameson’s shortest wake window is between his morning nap and his mid-day nap, so for our second lunch we were desperate for food within the hotel compound. In Mandalay’s shopping mall area we found Hussong’s Cantina. Latin cuisines (as are Indian) are usually pretty good sources of naturally gluten-free options (if you steer clear of flour tortillas and Naan, ask about cross-contamination in fryers, and double-check to make sure gluten has not been added as a thickening or breading agent). Hussong’s is kind of a dive bar that serves food too, so I was pleasantly surprised when our server knew exactly what was and was not gluten-free on the menu (e.g. the refried beans are in cooked in beer, and the fryer is not gluten-free). He offered to put my steak in lettuce cups instead of corn tortillas even though the tortillas would have been fine. The steak tacos were not so great, as the meat was overcooked, but the side of guacamole we ordered was fresh and tasty. I scooped big dollops of guac on my tacos to make up for the lack of moisture from the steak.

Border Grill: Kobe Beef Tacos

Border Grill: Chicken Mole

Dinners
I was extremely excited to have a gluten-free friendly restaurant with a mouth-watering menu right in our hotel. Yay for Border Grill! They do have a dedicated gluten-free menu, but our server was knowledgeable about what was safe and what was not, so she just stood over my shoulder as we discussed my options. It was kind of a bummer that the only appetizers safe for me to eat were the tamales and empanadas (which are baked instead of fried and made with a wrapper of plantains), so I focused on the entrees, narrowing it down to Carnitas, Yucatan Pork, and Kobe Beef Tacos and finally choosing the tacos. The tacos were tasty, but I wasn’t completely happy. They either need to lower the price of the dish by at least ten dollars or execute the dish with a level of precision and refinement deserving of $28. Jim ordered Chicken Mole which was served with a side of mixed greens (which were over-dressed and sitting too long) and a lasagna-type starch containing plantains (and not gluten-free). While the mole sauce was flavorful, the chicken was a bit overcooked (although Jameson didn’t seem to mind. He happily ate his drumette).

Maggiano's: Rotini "D"

We ate our second dinner at Maggiano’s, which is quite a trek from Mandalay. Whew! While Maggiano’s does not advertise a gluten-free menu, other gluten-intolerant bloggers rave about the customer service at this particular chain. The chef came to our table to discuss what modifications could be made to my meal, and my head was swirling with choices. I wasn’t necessarily in the mood for a big bowl of pasta. I was more in the mood for some animal protein, some veggies, and maybe a side of pasta, but I ordered a big bowl of pasta anyway because, “How many restaurants on this planet serve gluten-free pasta? Not many!”. I settled on one of their specialty dishes called Rigatoni “D,” (in my case, gluten-free) rotini pasta with herb-roasted chicken, mushrooms, and caramelized onions tossed in a Marsala cream sauce. The sauce was flavorful and permeated the pasta quite nicely. The bowl could have stood to arrive at our table a moment or two earlier (as this is the kind of dish one needs to eat immediately after it’s been prepared to enjoy the optimal mouth feel), but I’ll let it slide. I was eating pasta at a restaurant! Woo hoo! Although my stomach (which was being overloaded with an atypical dose of grains in one sitting) told me to stop, I continued to eat until nearly every morsel was consumed.

Nine Fine Irishmen: King Cut Ribeye

Nine Fine Irishmen: Child's portion of Lamb Stew

Nine Fine Irishmen: Shepherd's Pie

We chose a restaurant close to “home” for our final dinner, New York New York’s Nine Fine Irishmen. By default, nearly half the menu is gluten-free anyway, and they also have a dedicated gluten-free menu for diners to peruse. Because there were so many gluten-free options on the menu, all four of us had gluten-free entrees. I ordered a Mixed Green Salad (which was over-dressed and sitting too long before it got to our table) and a King Cut Ribeye (which was ordered “medium” and served “well done”). Taylor ordered Lamb Stew (which was sadly under-seasoned) with a side of (nothing-special-about-’em) mashed potatoes, and Jim ordered Shepherd’s Pie (which was the tastiest dish of the bunch but a bit too one-note in flavor to warrant polishing off the entire bucket). Jameson wasn’t quite as discerning, so he happily shoved fistfuls of pie into his mouth.

Las Vegas McCarran Airport (LAS)
I did not expect Las Vegas’s airport to have gluten-free food of any kind. With this assumption, I did not look into any hot food options. Taylor and I were pleasantly surprised when we stopped by a magazine shop for some bottled water. (gasp!) Yes, I know. Plastic bottles kill the Earth! I am not in the habit of buying bottled water, as we fill our personal water bottles with our fancy filter at home. But in this case, I bought a big bottle for Taylor and I to share and empty into our personal water bottles, which we had been using during our entire stay in the desert. OK, I’m done with my guilty disclaimer. Onward. Beyond the usual chips, crackers, and sugary snacks you would find in any convenience store across this country, this store had an entire section of healthier equivalents (gluten-free being among them). Taylor chose some gluten-free chips, and I didn’t buy anything for myself, but it was still interesting to see what they had. I now know where to raise my blood sugar in a pinch at LAS should I need to in the future.

At this point in my pregnancy with Taylor, I started taking prenatal yoga classes at CPMC with Kari Marble. Since then, Kari and I have marveled at the location of our meeting, a hospital notorious for being unsupportive of physiological birth. Sure, it’s possible to give birth without medication at CPMC (Women have certainly pulled it off.), but CPMC is certainly not regarded as the most supportive hospital to do so.

To add to the irony, Kari was the catalyst for my awakening. Kari mentioned that she had a list of pregnancy and birth resources to share if any of us was interested, and I took her up on the offer. I bought two books, Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin and Birthing From Within: An Extra-Ordinary Guide to Childbirth Preparation by Pam England and Rob Horowitz, and read them simultaneously.

On one hand, I was shocked to discover how standard hospital protocols often thwart and even complicate healthy births. On the other, the information and the birth stories awoke a primal knowing that lay dormant in my body. It was a homecoming like no other.

Some other thoughts, as yet another week of gestation flies by…

• I think about how unconsciously I ate when I was pregnant with Taylor. More specifically, I think about the quantity of processed foods and refined sugar I must have consumed during those 39-plus weeks. I was by no means gorging myself of Ho-Ho’s and Ding-Dong’s, but I also wasn’t very mindful of what I was eating. I cringe as I think about this — I ate McGriddles with a side of hashbrowns and either juice or milk at least once or twice a month. I can’t imagine what that would do to my system now. Actually, yes I can. My body would punish me (at the very least) with digestive discomfort for such a foolish act.
•  Jim and I visit Maria for a prenatal appointment, and we hear the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Strong and steady it beats. Afterwards, Jim and I take a long walk around North Beach and Telegraph Hill, as outlined in an old copy of Stairway Walks in San Francisco. We ventured out on these walks while we were dating and before Taylor was born, so it feels good to revisit an old ritual.

Wow. Has another week passed already?! Time seems to be picking up speed as the holidays draw nearer. I was hoping to avoid a bullet-point list, but I just don’t have the energy for much more at the moment.

• I have toured 19 of 20 schools on my list. Although my kindergarten touring season is almost over, the whole process (of being accepted to and enrolling in a school) is far from over.
• Jim and I meet with Taylor’s teachers for a conference, and it feels good to know that we are on the same page. Taylor is an amazing child on many levels.
• I meet with the director of Taylor’s preschool to discuss details around my return to teaching. I will also substitute as the school’s chef when needed and lead a monthly parenting circle.
• I agree to come up with a cooking activity for Taylor’s class. Seeing that it is the week of Hanukkah, I plan on making potato latkes (even though I’ve never made them before). Taylor and I do a test-run over the weekend, and we enjoy success. With box graters and other supplies in tow, we will cook up some latkes on the final day of Hanukkah.
• This weekend also marks the height of my digestive discomfort. I decide to surrender and return to eating more primally. My body just doesn’t want to process more than it needs to.
• As I ease back into a more comfortable feeling stomach, I crave my grandmother’s Chinese cooking (just as I did when I was pregnant with Taylor). However, with my new-found issues with gluten, Asian cuisine is much more difficult to access safely. Determined, I search the Internet and embark on a mission with my grandmother to find and make gluten-free substitutes. Italian-style, braised short ribs are bubbling away in the oven as I write this, but what I really want are grandma’s homemade dumplings called Fun Goh.

This post has been on my mind for a couple of months now, and I’m finally getting around to writing it. With these “extra” weeks behind me, I have a level of clarity around the subject that I would not have had if it had been written earlier.

My sister-in-law introduced me to The Primal Blueprint and Mark’s Daily Apple back in June, and I quickly devoured the information because I found it to be very much in line with my personal nutritional philosophy and practice (which is heavily based on Weston A. Price).

I also appreciated Mark’s approachable (self-proclaimed, irreverent) tone juxtaposed with his reverence for following one’s intuition and his overall depth as a person. He may look like a stereotypical meathead, but he is certainly not. If anything, I would consider him an individual who is physically, informationally, emotionally, and spiritually ahead of his and other generations.

Nutrition
I found myself nodding in agreement as I read, and I have paraphrased some of The Primal Blueprint’s nutritional recommendations.

• Toss the USDA Food Pyramid out the window.
• While you’re at it, closely scrutinize what Big Pharma, Big Agra, the AMA, and the FDA deem as healthy.
• Don’t buy into the myth of eating a low-fat diet.
• Avoid processed foods (like breakfast cereals, crackers, baked goods, etc.)
• Avoid canola, cottonseed, corn, soybean, safflower, sunflower, and partially hydrogenated oils. Also avoid margarine, trans fats, and vegetable shortening.
• Eat local, in-season, organic vegetables and fruits.
• Eat organic meat, poultry, fish, and eggs.
• Eat organic nuts and seeds.
• Eat fats from organic animals, olives, coconuts, sesame seeds, hemp, and palm.
• Consume probiotics in the form of foods and supplements.
• Be mindful of where phytates lurk (i.e. in grains, legumes, nuts, and seeds).
• If you must eat dairy products, make sure it’s organic and raw or fermented.

Yippee skippee — I love this guy!

Nutritional Speed Bump
I nodded in agreement until I hit a major bump in the road — Consume less than 150 grams of carbohydrates per day, eliminating all grains.

What?! I’m Chinese for crying out loud! No rice?! No more tamales and handmade tortillas from Primavera at the farmers market?!

After I recovered from the initial shock and allowed the why‘s behind Mark’s proclamation to sink in, I decided to give it a shot. I set out to significantly reduce grains and sugars (natural and refined) from my diet. I became more mindful of grains, only eating them when I really couldn’t imagine not having them.

Instead of noshing on gluten-free pancakes with Taylor in the morning, I opted for some sort of animal protein and some vegetables. Instead of making an occasional sandwich or having some gluten-free pasta for lunch, I chose some other form of animal protein and vege. Instead of partaking in generous heaps of gluten-free pasta, white rice, or brown rice with Jim and Taylor at dinnertime, I either scooped a smaller mound of grains on my plate next to whatever animal protein and veggies we were having, or I would replace the grain entirely with a larger serving of vegetables.

To be even more clear about how I avoided the typical USDA food trap (er, I mean pyramid), I cooked with generous amounts of butter, cream, and animal fats. How’s that for not falling for the low-fat myth? I became more vigilant about consuming bread, pasta, rice, corn, beans, sugar from certain fruits, and refined sugar in gluten-free desserts.

As Mark says, improved health is (in part) the result of regulating insulin levels, not fat.

Unexpected Loss
The most immediate and noticeable change has been in my level and frequency of hunger. I was one of those people that needed to eat every couple of hours, and when I was hungry, I was HUNGRY! (My nickname in college was Chomper.)

I remember commenting to some of my health care providers over the years, “Maybe there’s something wrong with the way my brain and stomach communicate because I get really hungry and hungry shortly after eating a meal.”

While I wasn’t gorging myself on carbs, I guess I was eating more carbs than my body needed because now I can go longer without eating and without feeling hungry. (shrug)

Before I knew it two months rolled by, and I hopped on the scale one afternoon to discover that I had lost 5 pounds (without working out!). I wasn’t even trying to lose weight, and off it came. I can’t tell you from where those pounds fell. I get on the scale every so often, expecting the whole thing to be a giant misunderstanding on my part, but it’s true. Hmmph.

I have experienced seasonal allergies for years now, trying everything from expensive prescription meds to home remedies. With less sugar (in the form of grains, natural sugars, and refined sugars) in my diet, my congestion has lessened considerably. Double-hmmph.

Is it a mere coincidence? Have I been able to lower the amount of inflammation in my body? I think it might be too early to tell, but my chiropractor has noticed a physiological shift.

While he adjusted me the other day he commented that my body was buttery. (Yes, that got a good chuckle from my Facebook friends). By buttery he meant that my subluxations were simple and easy to manipulate for a change. When I mentioned that I have been cutting back on grains, he agreed that most people would be healthier without them.

What makes this blueprint Primal?
Mark recommends a modern-day lifestyle modeled conceptually after our hunter-gatherer counterparts who lived about 10, 000 years ago. Mark’s depictions and adaptations of primal life really resonated with me. Again, paraphrased below:

• The most healthful foods come straight from the earth and straight from the animals that tread on it.
• Mothers practice extended breastfeeding, nursing their children beyond infancy and into early childhood.
• The line between work and play are blurred, where work is not perceived as a set of tasks to merely suffer through and play is not perceived as trivial and worthless.
• Every one’s body appreciates when its owner attunes to its signals and responds appropriately.
• Naps can be rejuvenating for people of all ages.
• Physical strength and endurance are results of going about one’s daily activities as opposed to exercises completed in addition to daily activities.
• People rely primarily on their family and community members for their physical, social, emotional, educational, and spiritual needs as opposed to strangers, faceless others, and digital devices.
• Mothers carry their babies close to their bodies as they go about their day instead of placing them in solitary contraptions.
• Adults and children sleep together and are not expected to sleep continuously until an arbitrary hour the next day.
• People are generally accepting of what life brings, and misfortune is perceived as an opportunity for growth.

As if there weren’t already enough reasons to love Mark and his approach to living healthfully, I discovered this article about modern-day maternity care in the archives of Mark’s Daily Apple.

Busting More (USDA, Big Pharma, Big Agra, FDA, and AMA) Myths
Even more shocking to me than the no-grain-insulin-stabilizing recommendations are Mark’s recommendations for exercise. (This time I’ll include quotes and paraphrases.)

• Move frequently at a slow pace (instead of spending extended periods of time performing intense cardio exercises).
• Lift heavy things (that involve several body parts and during workouts that last no more than 30 minutes).
• Sprint once in a while (to tap into the “survival of the fittest paradigm,..modeling the ‘use it or lose it’ principle”).

I’ve only just begun to explore these seemingly preposterous, physical wellness claims. Just the other the day, I downloaded a few pages from Mark’s free, fitness e-book and performed a physical fitness self-assessment.

As a pretty athletic individual all my life (well, aside from my post-TaylorBirthing years), I found the assessment to be a humbling reality check. My upper body strength has certainly decreased, and I would consider my core and leg strength to fall into the realm of “OK”.

Looking & Moving Forward
Since I started experimenting with my sugar intake these past couple of months, I’ve experienced some uncomfortable moments and set-backs as well.

When my brother came to visit us for a few days, I cooked a big batch of pasta and partook in the feast, eating a portion of pasta equivalent to my pre-Primal Blueprint days. My body certainly did not appreciate this newfound, carb-overload. Immediately after dinner, my stomach ballooned and ached for the rest of the evening.

In August, we went camping in Yosemite, and, like previous camping trips, it entailed foods that aren’t normally in our diet. More specifically, I ate many more gluten-free s’mores than my body wanted or needed. I came back from that trip with a serious sweet tooth, and I’m still struggling with the “need” to have something sweet after dinner. Ai-ya!

As unpleasant as these moments and set-backs may feel, they are also experiences from which to grow. I am learning how changes and which changes in particular are affecting my body and overall wellbeing, and it’s up to me to remain attuned and respond appropriately.

As always, I’ll continue to share this (Primal) journey with you.

Eating In
Since Taylor’s pediatrician introduced us to the Weston A. Price approach to nutrition three and a half years ago, I’ve been leaving more and more gluten out of our diets. For starters, I replaced regular pasta with brown rice pasta and looked for all the places where gluten may hide. Eliminating almost all of the processed foods in our house took care of that. Without boxed and bagged Frankenstein foods in our pantry and with meals made from scratch, I was already mostly gluten-free (save the occasional hamburger bun or beer-battered fish taco while eating out).

With nearly all processed foods out of the picture anyway, the need to find gluten-free equivalents (e.g. cookies, pretzels, etc.) haven’t been an issue. We were already eating brown rice crackers. The only addition has been gluten-free bread from a local bakery, which, by the way, makes the best gluten-free bread I’ve ever tasted. Buying gluten-free ingredients and cooking from scratch continue to come with ease.

As I approached the check-out counter at Rainbow one day, I picked up a copy of Living Without magazine, really not expecting too much. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the information they offer, and I couldn’t resist the chocolate cheesecake on the cover. We baked and delighted in the gluten-free, chocolate truffle cheesecake with dark and milk chocolate ganache and raspberries on top. Amazingly delicious, gluten-free or not!

About a month ago, my sister-in-law and I were talking about nutrition, and she lent a book to me called The Primal Blueprint. I read it cover-to-cover, and I’m a fan. Essentially it’s eating the Weston A. Price way without grains, and the author, Mark Sisson, also includes detailed lifestyle recommendations. (I plan on writing a Primal Blueprint-specific post soon.) I prepared a chicken recipe from the PB website for a house-full of my extended family, and they enjoyed it so much that they asked for the recipe after dinner. Gluten-free and grain-free can be delicious, regardless of its nutritional content.

Eating Out
Eating out, on the other hand, has its challenges and hidden blessings. Unless I can find the extremely rare place that offers to cook with tamari (a.k.a. gluten-free soy sauce) instead of regular soy sauce, I pretty much can’t eat Asian food from restaurants anymore. We were in Chicago celebrating my grandparents’ shared 80th birthdays recently, and while everyone feasted on course after course of traditional, Chinese banquet food, I ordered poached chicken with ginger and scallions, white rice, and steamed veggies.

My paternal grandmother, Taylor, and I usually enjoy a dim sum lunch or a rice plate lunch in Chinatown every once in awhile, but we haven’t been to a single lunch with Bock Hoo in two months. Bock Hoo offers to bring home a stir-fry for me sometimes, but I have to decline.

Hidden blessings come when eating other cuisines, as I need to be more selective about the kinds of establishments I patronize. Most fast food restaurants and chain restaurants use pre-made mixes, sauces, and other preparations where gluten is very likely to lurk. Oh, darn. I guess I can’t eat at those crappy places anymore.

The only exception to the fast food rule, so far, is Chipotle. I was pleasantly surprised to see them dedicate a few paragraphs to Celiac and gluten issues on their website. Someone at Chipotle is seriously on top of their game and has thoroughly considered where gluten may enter the food chain. I ate at Chipotle twice while in Chicago.

Usually, it’s just easier, tastier, and cheaper to eat at home, so that’s what I do. But when I do eat out, I try to find the cleanest (i.e. from scratch) places that I can find and ones that actually have some knowledge about Celiac and gluten issues.

The most knowledgeable and tastiest restaurant I’ve found so far is Dosa. The server knew exactly which items on the menu contained gluten (like samosas, sniff sniff) and which did not. I had the Kerala Fish Moilee, and it was cooked to perfection. YUM!

We’ve tried a couple of gluten-free pizzas (at Amici’s and Jules Thin Crust), and let’s just say that I’d rather skip the gluten-free attempt at pizza dough. Eeew.

Perspective
I spoke with Taylor’s pediatrician (who suggests that Taylor limit her gluten intake and that I never let the stuff cross my lips again), and the good doctor believes that at least 95% of the population shouldn’t be eating gluten anyway. The grain has been manipulated, literally beyond recognition to our bodies, and it’s doing more harm than good. Celiac just gives me that extra bit of convincing that it’s off-limits for me (and I’m finding, happily so).

I watched an episode of Oprah on compulsive eating yesterday, and while I am not a compulsive eater, I knew that she and her guest, Geneen Roth (author of Women, Food & God: An Unexpected Path to Almost Everything), would likely share information and experiences with which all people can discover some level of resonance. At the very end of the show Oprah concluded…

When you surrender and stop resisting and stop trying to change that which you cannot change, but be in the moment, be fully open to the blessings you have already received and those that are yet to come to you, and stand in that space of gratitude and honor, and claim that for yourself, and look at where you are and how far you’ve come, and what you’ve gotten and what you’ve accomplished, and who you are, when you can claim that and see that, the literal vibration of your life will change. The vibration of your life will change.

This statement and the conversations that unfolded over the course of an hour all point back to consciousness — moving from living an unconscious life to a more conscious life. Moving from engrained thoughts and behaviors that have become conditioned responses to mindful interactions that allow for gratitude, expansion, spaciousness, growth, peace, compassion, limitless possibilities.

Geneen and Oprah spoke about food being a doorway for compulsive eaters to find their way back to themselves, back to the purest essence of who they are. For some it may be food. For others it may be a tragic loss. For me, pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting have opened the doorway back to Myself.

Where did you discover your doorway? Or are you still looking for it?

Where does my story with Celiac Disease even begin? Technically speaking, from birth, I suppose. But when did gluten sensitivity enter my field? About ten years ago, I was looking to improve my health by eliminating gluten (among other possible culprits) from my diet. After about a year of eliminating these food items, I didn’t feel any better, so I went back to eating normally.

What I didn’t know then was that soy sauce contains gluten, and I was eating soy sauce just about everyday! In recent years, I’ve played with eating and not eating gluten some more and realized that my body just seems to appreciate me leaving it out of my diet.

Fast-forward to the beginning of Spring 2010. My naturopath and I spoke about optimizing my body for pregnancy and investigating possible food sensitivities in the process. She suggested that I send a stool sample and some cells from the inside of my mouth to a lab to check for sensitivities to gluten, chicken egg, soy, and yeast.

Lo and behold, my gluten numbers are off the charts, and it appears that I received genes from both of my parents that predispose me to Celiac Disease. In addition, I am also sensitive to egg and soy.

Although I’m not celebrating the news, I find the information empowering. In a quantitative sense, I have a better idea of what’s going on inside my body, and now I can take steps to minimize damage and maximize wellness.

As a person who LOVES food, one who loves to cook it, shop for it, smell it, taste it, watch it being cooked by someone else, try different variations of it for the first time, I immediately identified the drawbacks of such a diagnosis. No more beer battered fish tacos at the farmers market. No more decadent desserts at restaurants. Among a slew of other things.

On the bright side, this news will continue to fuel my passion for preparing food that is local, sustainable, and healthful. I’ve said for some time now that if I had money and time to blow, I would absolutely put myself through culinary school for the fun of it. Not to one day open a restaurant or launch my own line of kitchen knives. But to expand my knowledge around food preparation and to enjoy the process of that expansion.

While culinary school may not be in my near future, I can still embrace this opportunity to grow my culinary repertoire. If I can’t eat Thai takeout anymore, well then, I guess I better learn how to make some pad thai on my own. With all the resources the Bay Area and the Internet have to offer, I’m in good hands. It’ll just take a bit more effort and planning on my part.

I’ll share my journey as it unfolds.

Last night, I watched a documentary about…

A guilty New York liberal (who) decides to practice what he preaches for one year — turns off the electricity, stops making garbage, gives up TV, taxis, and take-out and becomes a walking, bicycling, composting, tree hugging, polar bear saving, local food-eating citizen, all while taking his baby daughter and caffeine loving, retail-obsessed, television-addicted wife along with him. 

Rather than re-hash details from the storyline or critique this family’s efforts, I’ll stick to writing about what came to mind as I watched.

The No Impact Man in Me
While I have never considered shutting off our electricity for extended periods of time or going without toilet paper, I can certainly identify with Colin’s (the above mentioned “guilty New York liberal) desire to live more mindfully, to make conscious lifestyle choices that will (hopefully) positively impact the planet and its inhabitants.

I can also identify with the questions and tensions that arise between Colin and his wife, Michelle, as Colin’s passion to save the planet invariably bumps up against the lifestyle choices Michelle may not want to make. Similarly, when I decided to minimize the processed foods in our house and become even more dedicated to cooking from scratch, embracing traditional food items like bone broth, fermented foods, and sprouted grains, this sent shockwaves through our family.

This one decision magnified our perceiving, buying, preparing, eating, and eating out habits. Like Colin, I led the food crusade while my spouse (Bless him!) went along with it for awhile. However, we did come to a point where negotiations were necessary. The crusader in me (and in Colin) needed to yield to more consensual and sustainable solutions to support harmonious partnerships.

In the process of our crusading, our spouses generously opened themselves to change and even adopted some of the crazy ideas we introduced. The specific example that comes to mind isn’t about food but about bags. It warms my heart to hear how guilty Jim feels when he forgets to bring a canvas bag to the grocery store or to see Jim decline a cashier’s offer of a disposable bag and awkwardly juggle the items in his arms until he eventually plops them down on our kitchen counter.

To be clear, Jim’s discomfort doesn’t bring me joy. What brings me joy is Jim’s own shift in consciousness. This isn’t about me making the rules and standing over his shoulder to ensure that it’s done “correctly”. It’s about Jim making changes that genuinely resonate with him. In witnessing Michelle’s journey with Colin, I have a new appreciation for all of the ways that Jim is patient and willing to grow with me.

The Critics
As media coverage of Colin’s family increased throughout the experiment, critics chimed in with their thoughts. Some questioned the integrity of their seemingly extreme efforts and others expressed how offended they were about the family’s choices (i.e. that Colin and Michelle made them feel guilty).

To that, I call, “Bullshit!”. Are you friggin’ kidding me!? One person’s way of existing in this world “makes” some other person feel guilty!? I’ve been in therapy long enough to recognize blatant co-dependency when I see it. And this is an example of just that.

This dynamic isn’t new. In fact, it’s the same dynamic that rears its ugly head when people talk about childbirth. In our culture, it is perfectly acceptable and even welcomed to share how unpleasant the birthing process is. But don’t even consider sharing the positive experiences. Oh, no! Those aren’t allowed because they “make” other women feel bad.

One person’s experience does not negate or invalidate some one else’s. If any insult is taken, the responsibility for those feelings belongs to the insulted. Period.

Whether we choose to cook from scratch or not, minimize material consumption or not, birth with pain medication or not, sulking in a corner and blaming the other isn’t the answer. Instead, we need to hear stories from all sides, to learn from each other and really own our decisions.

Balance
Near the end of the film, Colin asks

Is it possible to have a good life without wasting so much?

Without a doubt. Absolutely, yes! In fact, I would take it a step further and invert the question — Is it possible to be wasteful (consuming unconsciously) and have a good life?

When faced with any buying decision, our bodies, our neighbors, and our planet would benefit from us asking ourselves questions like these:

• How was this produced, grown, or raised?
• Beyond my own enjoyment of this item, how does its production affect my community and the communities beyond my own?
• How far did this travel to get to my hands?
• Once I’m done using this item, what happens to it? Will it be trashed, recycled, or reused?
• Is it essential that I own this item? Can I borrow it from a friend or buy it used?
• How would I feel, cope, live without this item?
• Can I use something I already have for this purpose?
• What will happen to the packaging from this item?
• Is there an alternative that does not create as much waste?
• In what ways might my life be more joyful and healthful without it?

So does this mean my family and I represent the highest standard in environmental consciousness? No, we surely don’t. We don’t even come close to what Colin and his family tried for a year, but we do live with an ever-growing sense of awareness and responsibility for our actions on this planet.

If you knew me before I was pregnant and compared my life then to the life I live now, you might conclude that I now go out of my way to question everything and deliberately choose whatever option seems more difficult to implement. While it may seem this way on the surface, I assure you that this is not true. Instead, I now choose to gather information and consciously make decisions that resonate with me.

Until recent weeks, I regarded my transformation as solely unique and individual. On some levels, yes. This is my journey and no one else’s. On other levels, my awakening coincides with those who have come before me and those who travel along side me now. In the near entirety of human history, women have proactively questioned patriarchal standards and sought to reconnect with their feminine nature. This questing, this journey, honors the often forgotten, often dismissed, and often (intentionally) destroyed Sacred Feminine.

What is Sacred Feminine?

• Following intuition (and not allowing this innate sense of safety and well-being to be over-ridden)
• Pursuing the most authentic path (as opposed to adhering to expected roles and making nice to avoid potential conflict)
• Communing with other women (in a way that is genuine and without judgment and competition)
• Respecting and celebrating nature and its cycles (instead of being consumed with the need to dominate and suppress them)
• Creating in its many forms (that expresses what words may not)

So there I have it. This highly individual yet collective transformation that I have been answering to has a name. On one hand, I am enjoying the solidarity, comfort, and support of knowing that other women share this journey. On the other, I am overwhelmed by the depth and breadth of what this means, what this represents in my life and in the context of human existence. I am hungry for more material on the topic, and I have begun digging for the buried treasure.

Until I am more able to put my findings on the Sacred Feminine to words, I’ll share my unique journey with you, from my pregnancy with Taylor to the present. I initially envisioned a linear re-telling of my story but quickly discovered that it is difficult to parse out this new-found normalcy because it is a web of ever-growing complexity and connection.

Pregnancy
I cruised through the first twelve weeks of pregnancy with minimal physical or emotional discomfort. I entered my second trimester and a series of prenatal yoga classes simultaneously, and my world was suddenly turned upside-down. I read two books (Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth and Birthing From Within) on the instructor’s recommended list of resources and could not look at pregnancy and birth the same way again. Nearly everything I thought I knew about birth and nearly everything about birth that is perpetuated in our culture does not hold up to what is best for mothers and babies.

Discovering this information rocked me to my core, and I spent the remainder of my pregnancy learning and preparing for the safest birth for our baby girl. What I did not possess then was the vocabulary to acknowledge how the attitudes and practices around childbirth are glaring examples of how our culture has stripped away nearly all that is Feminine about this rite of passage. With every fiber of my being, I knew this revelation was a homecoming like no other.

Therapy
As I had learned in my reading, emotional upsets, whether immediately in the birth room or from the distant past, can interrupt and impede the birthing process (e.g. a stalled labor/failure to progress). In an effort to clear some deep emotional blockages from my past, I sought the counsel of a psychotherapist throughout my pregnancy. Beyond an intellectual shift and an emotional shift, I also noticed and honored a spiritual shift. Instead of driving to my appointments, I walked to my therapist’s office as a small way of helping the environment. Seemingly out of nowhere, I became more in tune with Mother Earth and her well-being.

Childbirth Preparation
With this new knowledge about pregnancy and childbirth that challenged the status quo, I needed a childbirth preparation class that supported this information and my desire to have an unmedicated birth. My yoga instructor had also recommended Birthing Intuition on her list of resources, and, without hesitation, I knew this was what would serve us best.

The facilitators, Staci and Hokhmah, honored and gently guided our journey to parenthood, and Jim and I grew in ways we could have never anticipated. In the span of eight weeks, I switched care providers and hospitals, felt inklings of connection to ceremony and ritual, and began to explore the dynamics of co-dependent relationships and inter-dependent relationships.

Birth
With the information I gathered, the emotional blockages I purged, and the birth team I assembled, I welcomed birth with an unfamiliar and liberating surrender. While some level uncertainty did naturally remain, I gave myself over to Trust — trust in the birth process, trust in the people at my side, and trust in myself. I luxuriated in labor at home and did not arrive at the hospital until long after the first urge to push washed over me. The peaceful dance of labor was interrupted by the “need” to travel and, later, by a seemingly endless list of unnecessary procedures. As I look forward, I await the opportunity to give birth in the safety of our home.

Toxins
Shortly after Taylor’s birth, Staci (our doula and one of our Birthing Intuition facilitators), e-mailed some information to me about the presence of bisphenol-A in certain brands of baby bottles, and, from there, I embarked on a learning process about environmental toxins. Baby products, like Taylor’s plastic bib, were recalled, and my awareness for these dangers rose. I then began to research the safety of cosmetics and everyday products like shampoo via the Skin Deep website. Soon after, dangerous levels of lead were detected in toys, and I tore through the house disposing of just about every single plastic toy we owned. I was fed up with the uncertainty of whether a particular synthetic substance was safe or not and opted for toys made of natural materials.

Food
As Taylor neared her first birthday and real, solid, non-pureed foods entered her diet, our pediatrician advised that we feed her food directly from our plate, provided that the foods were whole and unprocessed. More specifically, Dr. Woodard encouraged a traditional diet, as prescribed by the Weston A. Price Foundation. In addition to Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats, I also read Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection,  Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year in Food Life, and The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. My perception of what is normal and safe was rocked once again. I was (and still am) dumbfounded about how we, as a culture, pillage the very foundations of our survival.

Searching beyond the generic “organic” labels at the grocery store, I set out to find seasonal, local, food items grown and raised in the most responsible ways. I became committed to supporting local farmers and teaching Taylor through my actions that food matters. When I can’t find certain items (like dry, pantry goods) at the farmers market, I support our local, grocery co-op, who also buys from local sources when possible.

Gardening
Inspired by the books I read and by my friends’ thriving vegetable gardens, I just started digging one day. I dug and dug until I created a 14-foot by 4-foot by 1-foot deep plot in our lawn. With the beginner’s luck we enjoyed there, I expanded the garden to a second plot adjacent to it. Taylor and I enjoy getting our hands in the earth, and we are blessed to witness the resilience of nature first-hand. We have also built a worm bin in an effort to reduce waste and to replenish the soil in our garden.

Community
In the first year and a half of Taylor’s life, I yearned for more meaningful connections with other mothers, but I just didn’t know where to find them. Call it dumb-luck or fate, I eventually stumbled upon an Attachment Parenting group, and through my relationships with these moms I feel supported in where I am and in all the ways I continue to grow as an individual. Whereas previous conversations with other moms were relegated to small-talk and polite conversation, we enjoy the full range of relating to each other, sharing whatever may stir our hearts, minds, and spirits.

Parenting & Education
While in grad school earning my teaching credential and Master’s degree, I taught at a local preschool. Unbeknowst to me at the time, it was (and still is) one of the most sought after preschool programs in the city and also one of the more progressive in educational philosophy and conflict resolution. Their approach to interacting with children planted a seed which I consciously carried to subsequent classrooms and, eventually, our own home.

With teaching experience under my belt, I entered motherhood with a pretty good idea of how I wanted to parent, or so I thought. Over time, I discovered that managing (as I was taught to do in grad school) a traditional classroom of children is very different from raising my own child. While my experiences at Pacific Primary encouraged me to venture beyond widely implemented practices, I still had not traveled far enough.

In learning about different parenting approaches from my mama friends, reflecting on my own childhood, looking more closely at philosophies and practices I had yet to consider, and stretching myself beyond my comfort zone, I now parent in a way that honors my child as an innately sovereign individual. Rather than rely on old scripts from authoritarianism, I strive to create and maintain a more collaborative relationship built on mutual respect and solutions that validate and address both of our needs.

During my search I turned to re-reading How to Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk (from my Pacific Primary days) and reading Non-Violent Communication: A Language of Life, Parent Effectiveness Training: The Proven Program for Raising Responsible Children, Unconditional Parenting: Moving From Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason, Connection Parenting: Parenting Through Connection Instead of Coercion, Through Love Instead of Fear, Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting, Raising Children Compassionately: Parenting the Nonviolent Communication Way, and A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose.

Parenting this way often goes hand-in-hand with re-examining traditional educational philosophies and practices. With the idea that each child is an innately free and unique being, suddenly, the traditional structure for school learning doesn’t hold up so well anymore. As I continue to reflect on how my parenting perspective informs the educational choices I make for Taylor, I also try to hold the awareness and space for Taylor to show me what she needs to learn and when she needs it.

Birth Advocacy
With the information I uncovered about birth before Taylor was born and my continuing interest and education around pregnancy and birth, I was (and still am) in utter disbelief. Why isn’t this information more accessible?! Why aren’t more women talking about it?!

I immediately reached out to the women I cared about most, our friends and family. Despite my concern for their well-being and my passion for the topic, my intentions to share and inform were not well received.

(Initially) dumbfounded yet still determined, I cast a wider net. I created this website and blog. I hosted a fund-raising and awareness-raising screening of The Business of Being Born. I connected with a local, homebirth midwife and her colleagues, letting them know I was available to get the word out and to collaborate with them as our government considered making changes to our healthcare system. I use my Facebook page as a platform for birth advocacy, hoping that at least one person will (maybe even reluctantly) click on one of the links I’ve shared and start questioning the status quo in maternity care. (My FB friends inform me that this has actually been successful. )

As I continue to mature as a birth advocate and activist, the lively flames of adrenaline and passion give way to a smoldering layer of calmer, more centered energy. I have come to realize that all I can do is stay true to myself and allow that vibration to reverberate. If she is looking for the support and information I can provide her, our paths will surely meet.

Elimination Communication
When our pediatrician introduced the practice of Elimination Communication (EC) at Taylor’s third or fourth-month check up, we politely declined. Our hands were full enough with a colicky, high-needs, possibly reflux-y baby that we could not imagine taking on anything else. However, looking back on all of that crying, it is highly likely that at least some of that fussiness came from Taylor’s need to pee and poop. Amidst all the crying, those cues went unread and unacknowledged.

Over a year later, in my life came Rebecca, Laura, and Thais, who practice EC with their sons. Hmm…maybe this whole EC thing isn’t such a foreign concept afterall. Just as babies let us know that they’re hungry, tired, or uncomfortable, they also let us know when they need to eliminate. We, as parents, just need to be open to receiving and responding to this need. Looking at it this way, it just seems to make so much sense! Less diapers, enhanced communication, and no need to later teach children to un-learn peeing and pooping on themselves. I just finished reading Diaper Free: The Gentle Wisdom of Natural Infant Hygiene, and I look forward to trying EC with our next child.

Health
I have never been one to reach for a bottle of pills at the first sign of pain. The thought just doesn’t cross my mind. Beyond leaving that bottle in the medicine cabinet, I, in recent years, began seeking the least invasive methods of healing. While much of Western medicine relies on suppressing symptoms and physically carving out disease, alternative medicine, on the other hand, supports the body’s propensity for wellness. In all, we have applied homeopathy, massage, acupressure, acupuncture, craniosacral therapy, chiropractic, herbs, jin shin jyutsu, yoga, chi gong, nutritional changes, and home remedies since my pregnancy with Taylor. Working with our bodies, as opposed to dominating them, just makes logical sense and intuitive sense.

Blessingways
While the trappings of traditional baby showers often focus on the external and the material, blessingway ceremonies honor the internal and ritual. Blessingways celebrate the most uniquely inherent quality of feminine life and embody all aspects of the Sacred Feminine.

Surrounded by the most intimate circle of women in her life in a physically, emotionally, and spiritually safe container, a pregnant woman’s most authentic self is welcomed and embraced. Decorations, talismans, and ceremonial objects are often items borrowed from nature. Guests work together in creating symbolic gifts, and the mother-to-be is adorned with body art. Enveloped in a womb of timelessness, all in attendance give and receive with the truest essence of who they are, and I have enjoyed the honor of hosting a handful of these ceremonies.

Outside observers of this ritual may characterize this ceremony as witch-like, and they would be absolutely correct. Witch, not in the negative light of modern times, but in an ancient sense — healer, knower, truth seeker, wise woman.

Women’s Circle
Whereas blessingways mark a single rite of passage for one woman, a women’s circle bares witness to, acknowledges, supports, and celebrates the full spectrum of life’s events for each woman who participates. Previous attempts at describing our monthly circle has left me virtually speechless. How do I describe a seemingly mundane, truly transcendent gathering of women?

Perhaps the best way to describe our circle is that each meeting is akin to a blessingway ceremony for all of us. The candles, the sage, the centering, the grounding, the sharing, the deep searching, the mystery, the trust, the talismans, the symbology, the giving, the receiving – it’s all there, every month as respite and nourishment for our spirits. I thank Hokhmah, my Sisters, and the Universe for showing up for me in this way.

Layering & Weaving
My Sacred Feminine ah-ha moment first flickered into identification as I read Sue Monk Kidd’s Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story before the new year. My discovery suspended itself between disbelief and deep resonance, between Oh, my god(dess)! Has she been spying on our women’s circles?! and Amen, Sista! . In this co-authored memoir with her daughter, Sue Monk Kidd references one of her previous books, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman’s Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine, as it chronicles her own Sacred Feminine journey, and, of course, I needed to devour that book too.

Hungry for more, I discovered Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype and Kiss Sleeping Beauty Good-bye: Breaking the Spell of Feminine Myths and Models, both of which I am reading right now. However, like eating an ever-lasting piece of dense, chocolate cake, I take mindful pauses between bites to facilitate digestion. This lengthy post is one of those pauses, and now I am ready for another morsel.

“Are you making enough milk?,” well-meaning people in my life would ask. And it took just about all my strength not to snarl back like a Mama Bear, “Of course, I am! Damn It! Now, back off!”

I spent months preparing for labor and birth, but I spent very little time, in comparison, preparing for a breastfeeding relationship. Sure, I took the breastfeeding class at the hospital, and I read a book about nursing before Taylor was born. But I had no idea how difficult it would be to establish and maintain an ample milk supply.

In a nutshell, I nursed Taylor until she weaned herself before her third birthday, supplementing with a bottle of formula a day until her first birthday. However, as I looked back on those three years, I wondered if it had to be so hard. Were those tears shed over my ability to feed my baby part of the normal process, or was there more to learn about this elegant process nature had designed?

This post is for all nursing moms. Whether you’re a first-time mom, a mom who has questions about how your previous nursing experiences could have been better, or a nursing veteran, you are likely to find enlightening, evidence-based nuggets of information in The Breastfeeding Mother’s Guide to Making More Milk.

Although the book is more of a troubleshooting guide and a reference for increasing a low milk supply, every single nursing mother-to-be should read this book! As well-meaning as family members, friends, and even some experts (like doctors, nurses, doulas, and lactation consultants) may be, they may also unknowingly perpetuate misinformation that could be detrimental to your milk supply and your overall nursing relationship. This book will untangle the conflicting advice and also offer advice for women in a wide variety of unique situations (e.g. working mothers, breast surgery patients, women wanting to restart lactation, adoptive mothers, etc.). I am truly impressed by its the breadth.

As I read, I couldn’t help but get a little emotional. I received and followed so much misinformation that it’s a wonder that I nursed as long as I did. Below I share advice from The Breastfeeding Mother’s Guide to Making More Milk that resonates with my experiences and/or because it is a common myth that needs clarification.

It is likely (mis)information, not you.
My mom tried breastfeeding me and then my brother ten years later, but she just “didn’t have enough milk”. One of my family members latched on to this piece of information and reminded me of it over and over again, warning me that I likely inherited this same trait. Unlike my mother, I received some support and information in a slightly more nursing-friendly cultural climate. The information I received wasn’t quite accurate, but it was more than my mother received. While genetics can play a role in milk production, low milk supply can more often be attributed to misinformation.

Respond to your baby, not the clock.
I left the hospital with instructions to nurse Taylor every three hours for at least twenty minutes on each breast. Like a diligent student, I followed through. However, eight feedings in a day is the absolute, bare-minimum a baby should be fed to encourage ample milk supply, and the speed at which a baby extracts hindmilk from his mother varies from baby to baby.

Overall, the more milk a baby removes from the breasts, the more milk is produced. Therefore, the first days and weeks after birth are crucial to calibrating a woman’s long-term milk supply. Next time around, I’m indulging in an extended babymoon to ensure that our baby receives all the milk he or she needs and wants.

A fussy baby may be responding to slow(er) flow, not no flow.
As a baby empties her mother’s breast, the flow of milk decreases over the course of the feeding. While the flow rate may decrease, it does not stop. So as I padded my breasts, noticed how deflated they felt, and wondered if any milk was left in them, milk was still flowing, and I didn’t need to worry that nothing was coming out.

Although a bottle may calm a baby, he may not be hungry.
(Talk about a doozie! This factoid blew my mind!) If a baby fusses after a feeding, his parents may logically deduce that he is still hungry and then prepare a bottle of formula for him. Even if he accepts the bottle without complaint (and may actually seem quite calm afterwards), hunger may not have been the desire that needed to be addressed.

(Wow! I’m still reeling after this one!) This is exactly what we did with Taylor, and we even have video footage to prove it! I know how distressing it is to watch your baby cry and how reassuring it is to watch her calm almost instantly with a bottle in her mouth. But how confusing it must be for sleep-deprived parents when this happens, especially when the hospital provided formula samples and/or the formula company “so generously” sent samples directly to their doorstep. It’s just so easy to prepare a bottle to see what happens.

But here’s the problem. Because the baby accepted the bottle, his parents usually assume that Mom isn’t making enough milk, so (with the best of intentions) they begin to feed him formula after each feeding. In short time, Mom is truly not making enough milk because her breasts aren’t being stimulated enough, and she may even cease to lactate altogether because the bottle feeding has replaced breastfeeding. It’s a slippery slope.

Pumping may not be an accurate way of measuring milk production.
As Taylor neared her first birthday, we hired a sleep consultant because we needed extra support. Taylor was a very colicky baby. She didn’t sleep like “normal” babies were supposed to, and we just didn’t know what else to do. Our sleep consultant wanted to make sure that Taylor was getting enough breastmilk everyday, so she asked me to pump and measure how much milk I expressed.

I rented a pump from the hospital, and to my dismay, almost nothing came out. After several days of trying, I cried and cried to the brink of near surrender. Jim assured me that Taylor had already received so much breastmilk over the previous nine months and that he fully supported my decision to stop nursing if that’s what I wanted. I am forever grateful that I listened to my intuition and persevered, for nursing became more enjoyable as Taylor grew. Nursing became less about survival and more about bonding. Had I quit in exasperation, I would have missed out on this special time with my daughter.

Weight gain is the best way to determine if your baby is getting enough milk.
Consistency is key in weighing your baby. Consistency in using the same electronic scale, in completely disrobing her, in the time of day the reading is taken, in relation to feedings and bowel movements, and in double-checking the read out with the written record.

If supplementing, offer the bottle and then the breast.
If a mother offers her breasts first and follows with a supplementation of formula, the baby may learn to “hold out” for the fast and easy flow of the bottle. And over time, Mom’s supply decreases even more, and she is in jeopardy of losing her supply altogether. Conversely, when the baby receives the bottle first, the formula takes the “edge” off of his hunger, and he may be more willing to patiently work at milking his mother’s breasts for more nourishment.

Don’t skip nighttime feedings.
Levels of prolactin, the hormone that stimulates milk production, are higher at night during sleep, and the body’s response to Baby’s suckling is stronger at night. So when nighttime feedings are skipped, women are missing crucial breast stimulation for milk production and may jeopardize overall supply.

Because Taylor was colicky, her pediatrician prescribed formula with pre-digested proteins to see if it would help. As Jim fed a bottle of formula to Taylor each night, I stayed in bed and took advantage of that time by sleeping. However, instead of sleeping, I should have been pumping to encourage milk production and make up for the feeding session I didn’t offer. We eventually learned that the formula did not help her colic, but by that time, my body had decreased its production of milk, so we continued with that bottle of formula until her first birthday. As they say, hindsight is 20/20.

The authors thoughtfully address feelings of guilt or regret with this reassurance.

You did not know then what you know now or you might have made a different decision.

This certainly holds true for me. Looking back, I wish I would have made different decisions, but I was limited by the information available to me. When the time comes for me to prepare for my next nursing relationship, I will undoubtedly refer to The Breastfeeding Mother’s Guide to Making More Milk.