The Gluten Experiment: Part 1

A couple of months ago I shared that I'd had a blood test reveal the presence of gliadin, which is the antibody to gluten. In other words, I tested positive for gluten intolerance. The standard procedure for that is to begin a gluten free "GF" diet.

I did not jump in immediately, partly because making the switch requires some effort, but mostly because I didn't have symptoms. (We had no reason to suspect an intolerance, the test was part of a standard battery we were doing because of something else, and the result was something of a surprise.) Many people experience bloating, gas, or irregularity. Many experience fatigue or joint pain. Some sources do suggest symptoms as differentiated as headaches, giddiness, loss or gain of weight, skin inflammation, nervousness, anger, impotency, irregular menstrual cycles, and miscarriage. That last one of course stood out to me, but it's one I did not find on most of the symptom lists, and I'm definitely a bit skeptical as to how a food allergy would be implicated in miscarriage.
My reading indicated that when dealing with a food allergy, an 'elimination diet' (ie, eliminating the offending food) is typically done for two weeks to observe whether or not there are any changes in symptoms. I spoke with several friends who have allergies to either wheat or gluten, and while a couple said that they needed to be GF for 3 or 6 weeks to see results, many also said that they noticed changes within just a few days. So two weeks seemed like a reasonable test to me. Also, several people told me that they did not notice anything particular when they went off gluten, but they did notice a change for the worse when they went back on it. So my experiment is really twofold: observing myself for two weeks off of gluten, and then continuuing to observe for the next two weeks as I go back on it.

Today's report is about my two weeks gluten-free. (Just so you know, there's a bit of "TMI" in here...so consider yourself warned!)

The first couple of days were really hard, as I had known they would be. I was overwhelmed with constantly checking labels or looking things up ( www.zeer.com is a great site for checking whether things have gluten in them). It seemed that most of what I wanted to snack on had gluten in it... I felt hungry, not because I wasn't eating, but because I had to be so discriminating about what I ate. I think the difficulty was mostly emotional, but it was certainly difficult. The second day was especially hard.
I did get a mix to make GF pancakes, and one to make a loaf of GF bread, and I did make a flour mix which I substituted into a couple of other things, so in those few instances I had my separate food from everyone elses...but otherwise I simply prepared GF foods for everyone. We ate several dishes over rice--Indian, Chinese, Thai, and Mexican foods. We ate several meat & potatoes type meals. I ate a lot of eggs for breakfasts and fruit or cheese for snacks. It was a little annoying, but I did get the hang of it, and it wasn't too hard.
On two of the days when I was eating every (GF) meal, I found that I felt weak, woozy, and even a little nauseous. One of these was day 2, and I credited it to the change...but the other day was more than halfway through the trial, and it caught me quite off guard. I was eating meals with the same frequency and of the same size as always have, and that ill feeling is not something that happens except occasionally when I am pregnant or if I have fasted a full 24 hours. (I actually did a partial fast one day during the trial--I don't do full fasts when I'm breastfeeding--but, I felt fine during that time.)
I'd heard that my often-poor sleep might improve. This is hard to gauge as I had a teething baby during part of the time and he was not sleeping well so of course I was not sleeping well either...however, I didn't notice any particular differences in that regard either.
I also observed was that there were a couple of days when I was quite gassy. I was keeping a food diary, and there doesn't seem to have been anything in common between those days that might have caused it. Also in regard to the gastro-intestinal situation, I have never gotten so backed up in my life. These two issues I suspect may have to do with the lower fiber content of my diet when I went off wheat--we do consume quite a bit of wheat in our household, but it is almost all whole wheat. I probably should have thought about that ahead of time and sought additional alternate sources of fiber...however, I felt that the most realistic way to do the trial was to simply get rid of gluten, without making any other dietary changes.

So, my conclusions at this stage are that going gluten free did not improve my quality of life at all, and may have actually decreased it a bit.
I did develop a fairly awesome cookie recipe though: Stardrops.
We shall see if I notice anything in the coming two weeks as I go gluten-full again (I'll let you know of course!)


One friend, upon hearing that I was trying gluten-free, mentioned that in her experience gluten-free is not usually as helpful as staying on gluten and simply adding digestive enzymes to the diet. I need to research this option more fully, but hope to try it out as part 3 of the experiment.
If I do notice adverse results as I go onto gluten again, then I will also add on a gluten-lite trial, and see how that goes.

FOs of August

August was a month that mostly involved making food--or preserving it. Peaches, raspberries, fireweed jelly, salmon, halibut, clams, and so on. You've already heard about that I think.

It also seems that I've made (or begun to make) a mark on the world... which you have also been hearing about.

And I sewed up a special gift for a friend...but I didn't take any photos.

September has already begun to be fruitful...but you'll hear about that at the end of the month. ☺

Amethyst

I wrote here some time ago about my little sister, Amethyst, who died in infancy. Her death precipitated my mother's subsequent miscarriage, and was my first real experience with grief. As the founders of our miscarriage support network started discussing potential names for our organization, Amethyst's name came up. "The Amethyst Network" had a nice ring, and the name resonated with several of the founders because several of us had had due dates and/or miscarriages in February (amethyst is the February birthstone). We also liked the connection to valentine's day with the love we feel for our angel children. Purple and hearts seemed appropriate to symbolize our love and losses.
It is only now, after the name has been chosen and we are moving on to other aspects of the organization, that I thought to look up more information about the actual stone.
Amethyst "is a meditative and calming stone. It works in the emotional, spiritual, and physical planes to provide calm, balance, patience, and peace." It has been traditionally used to "help heal personal losses and grief. Amethyst has a gently sedative energy that promotes peacefulness, happiness, and contentment. It also brings emotional stability and inner strength" [link].
It seems the choice of name is even more appropriate than I could have guessed.

The Stages of Grief in Miscarriage

My recent work on The Amethyst Network, as well as a series of conversations with other women have miscarried, has moved me to write about this. Many of us are familiar with the Kubler-Ross Grief Cycle. Initially it was 5 stages of grief, but has now been expanded into 7 stages. (The graph and excerpt here are taken from the link above)

The initial state before the cycle is received is stable, at least in terms of the subsequent reaction on hearing the bad news. Compared with the ups and downs to come, even if there is some variation, this is indeed a stable state.

And then, into the calm of this relative paradise, a bombshell bursts...

• Shock stage: Initial paralysis at hearing the bad news.

• Denial stage: Trying to avoid the inevitable.

• Anger stage: Frustrated outpouring of bottled-up emotion.

• Bargaining stage: Seeking in vain for a way out.

• Depression stage: Final realization of the inevitable.

• Testing stage: Seeking realistic solutions.

• Acceptance stage: Finally finding the way forward.

This model is extended slightly from the original Kubler-Ross model, which does not explicitly include the Shock and Testing stages. These stages however are often useful to understanding and facilitating change.

The most important thing to realize is that each of these stages is normal, and that so long as you are progressing through them (even slowly) then you will eventually reach acceptance, or healing. Sometimes people seem to get stuck in one stage, or to skip stages. If psychological theory is right though, you can't really skip a stage--you won't really heal and move on unless you have been through all of them.
One of the hardest things I experienced was that my husband and I often progressed through these stages at different rates, or in different ways. So he wanted to distract himself and avoid thinking about our baby at the time when I wanted to wallow in my grief and just talk about it... or he was angry at the world at a time when I was fixated on trying to just get pregnant again.

You should not feel pressured to grieve in a certain way, nor to be "all better" by a certain time. Each stage will manifest in different ways in different people, and in different kinds of circumstances, and things that are helpful for one person may not be helpful for another. However, here are some examples of how the various stages might manifest when grieving over miscarriage. (If you have something to add, please comment and I will add it here in the post.)

Shock
The news of fetal demise or the onset of physical miscarriage is overwhelming. It's common go to into an adrenaline-filled "fight or flight" mode, with moments of startling clarity (choosing whether or not to have a D&C, arranging babysitting for other children, or calling in sick to work). It's also common to completely freeze up and be unable to do or think anything. You may not be able to cry at this stage...or you may not be able to stop crying.
Denial
Trying to convince yourself that the baby didn't really die, or that you never were really pregnant. That something has been misdiagnosed. That you should get a second opinion, or a third. That if you just hurry and take the right herb or medication that everything will get better. This stage might also be called "Distraction," as some people (notably husbands) seek to avoid thinking about the loss. Sometimes this manifests in wanting to get pregnant again as soon as possible (as though you were always just pregnant). Sometimes it manifests in wanting to never get pregnant again.
Anger
Casting blame at anyone and anything that might possibly have contributed to the miscarriage. It's common to be angry at your spouse, with the rationale that they contributed the 'flaw' that caused the miscarriage, or that they are not supporting you in the way that you want them to. You might be angry at yourself, feeling that your body is broken because it did not keep the baby. You might be angry at the baby, or at God. You probably will be angry at anyone else in the world who has children, or babies, or is pregnant, or who takes those things for granted, or who has never lost a child. You will most likely be upset with anyone who is insensitive to you.
Bargaining
At this point it is normal to think about anything that you could change about the status quo, and to fixate on changing them. It's common to feel disgruntled about your marriage, to feel like if you had a different spouse things might be better (you might have more money or live in a nicer place or have more friends or better support or even, most literally, that procreating with a different partner might have avoided miscarriage). This stage may involve wanting to try to conceive again right away. You may try to 'make deals' with God (things like "I don't want to miscarry again so if I'm just going to miscarry then don't let me get pregnant again").
Depression
As the graph indicates, this is an inactive state. Many people feel lethargic when they are depressed. More than feeling 'sad' per se, they often simply feel nothing. It is common to withdraw from social activities--sometimes to avoid questions, possibly to avoid the possibility of feeling happy (many of us feel guilty over being happy about something, as though it indicates a lack of love for the child we are grieving).
Testing
Testing is the beginning of acceptance. I think it's something like learning to roller skate--with false starts and falling down. There are a few attempts to move into 'acceptance' and some of them will fail miserably, which will drop you back into depression or anger or some other stage, and then you'll have to push forward again. You may need some time to gather yourself before you feel ready to try again. Eventually however, with continued trying, you will reach the final stage of
Acceptance
This is what we refer to as 'healing.' As with any wound, there will be a scar. You will never return to being the way you were before the miscarriage, but you will find a new 'normal' and you will reach a point of being able to live life, get things done, and even be happy. You'll be able to hear pregnancy announcements, see pregnant women, or hold infants and not be depressed. You'll be able to look back at your loss without fixating on it, and you'll be able to look forward into the future, and to move into it. Sometimes people refer to this stage as 'closure' but it's broader than that. It's not closing the book on what happened, it is accepting and validating it, and moving forward with life anyway.
Sometimes things drop me back into grieving for my children (although the grief is not so intense nor does it last long). Perhaps it's seeing a child who is the age my angel would have been. Perhaps it's meeting someone whose due date is near when mine was. Sometimes it's being with someone who is going through a loss of her own. Sometimes it's looking at my own children, and wondering how our family dynamic would be different if those other babies had lived. Because, even though I am a whole and healthy person, my experiences of loss have made me into a different person than I would have been without them.

Update

I know I've been quiet here. I probably will be pretty quiet for a while longer too. I have several things going on right now.

1--I have been busy with organizational work for The Amethyst Network, yeah, that miscarriage support nonprofit organization I mentioned that I was thinking about? We're doing it. We are still building our official webpage (scheduled launch in mid October to coincide with infant loss awareness month) however you can visit our facebook page at the link above.

2--I am doing my two-week trial of eating gluten free. This is pretty involving. I will report on it all when I finish. (For the record, at 6 days in, I remain skeptical.)

3--We are preparing to travel at the end of the month, and I am arranging not just logistics of packing, but also schedules of who to see/what to do, and figuring out Wolf's school work for what he'll be missing while we're gone.

4--Everybody is starting school--Wolf is in 5th grade (ohmygoodness) and of course Hubby is into his second term of grad school now. Plus Wolf is starting soccer this week and band next week (the boy wants to play french horn. Mommy is so proud).

5--Hubby is trying to get us a moose. It will go into the freezer/pantry alongside the salmon, halibut, raspberries, blueberries, peaches, rhubarb, clams, fireweed jelly and bear.

6--Because Hubby is home--and needing the computer for his school work--I don't have as much computer time. The upside of this is that I'm knitting more again. The downside (at least for you, gentle reader) is that I'm not blogging as much.

7--Eagle just started walking. I will now spend the next two years of my life trying to catch him. ☺

Razor Clams

A couple of weeks ago we had a nice low tide, so we went clamming.

What the photos don't reveal is that this walk across the 'beach' is actually walking through an inch or two of water...the whole way...
Oh, wait, that doesn't give an idea of how far out it really was.
Let's try without the zoom:
(yes, they are out there, right in the center...you can kinda see Wolf's red coat and that big rock they were next to...)

So I took the littles back off the beach and we played by the river mouth instead.

Bear threw rocks at the water (he didn't want to walk on the wet sand, preferring to stay on the dry rocks, so he wouldn't get close enough to the water to actually throw rocks IN the water...so he just threw them AT the water).
Eagle chewed on rocks and got dirty.
I got my toes into the earth... Ahhhhhh... (Bear is a hardcore barefooter, and since my shoes were wet from crossing the beach I joined him.)

And Wolf and Hubby dug us a bunch of razor clams. (Which, if you want to eat razor clams, you boil then for 10 seconds then drop them in ice water--that opens them up and also kills them pretty humanely--it's better than trying to cut them up without boiling them!)


For the record, I didn't like clams before, and now that I've gutted and carved a few dozen clams, I have no intention of ever eating one again. (Did you know they poop through their foot?!) Hubby and Wolf can have them all. But I guess that's ok, because they caught them.

"The Body Project" by Joan Jacobs Brumberg (and a challenge for my readers)

At the library, I recently stumbled across The Body Project: An Intimate History of American Girls. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I thought I vaguely remembered having heard of it, so I brought it home.
Oh wow. I absolutely recommend this to every woman, to every mother of daughters, to every teacher of girls. It should be required reading. This book is packed with history (and numerous primary sources including many diary entries). It recounts the changes that have taken place in American culture specifically during the 20th century, and the way that adolescence has changed from being a "coming of age" into being a "coming into obsession with our bodies." Even as we know more about our parts we seem to understand less about ourselves. It's something I think many of us are aware of (I've written on similar thoughts before), but the book was eye-opening for me in explaining more clearly the evolution of this change.
The following excerpt (p54-55) gives one example via menarche and menstruation (emphases added by me):

In preparing girls for menarche, we still tend to emphasize selecting a sanitary product rather than the meaning of the responsibility that menstruation implies. However, we know from the experience of generations of American women [that] being handed a pamphlet or shown a movie is not very satisfying, and that young women want meaningful exchanges about female sexuality as well as the best techniques for coping with the vagaries of menstrual blood. In a world where the female body is sexualized so early and the stakes are so high, it now seems obvious that it is not enough to teach girls how to be clean and dainty.
When contemporary American girls begin to menstruate, they think of hygiene, not fertility. That is the American way, and it is taken for granted--as if it were part of the "natural order." But the historical "disconnect" between menstruation and reproduction is actually quite modern, and it has important psychological implications for how girls think about themselves and what kind of women they become. It was strategically helpful for our grandmothers and mothers to cast menstruation as "only" a matter of hygiene, in order to offset Victorian myths about its debilitating effects. In today's world, however, that dismissiveness means something else. In fact, it sets the stage for obsessive overattention to other aspects of the changing body, such as size and shape.

I think an important realization is how pervasive this is in our culture.

Pervasive: like a virulent disease.

I mentioned this book to my best friend, and she made a revealing comment. She has recently lost almost 50lbs, and she said that since losing the weight she is even more body-conscious than she was before. I haven't seen her in some time, but I've seen recent photos and my first thought is always to comment how good she looks...how she LOOKS. Yes, she does look wonderful, but you know, she was always beautiful. She is kind and intelligent and graceful and talented and lovely, and she was my best friend before she lost the weight. She is still the same person I love, regardless of how she looks. And yet, when I see a photo, I'm ashamed to say that her newly-slender figure is the first thing I notice. What a statement about the pervasiveness of this body-image obsession, even from someone like me who is more-than-normally aloof from it.

I've been down this road myself. In my teens I had a really nice figure ("36-28-36" with blue eyes, long hair, fairly clear skin...) and yet I still found things to be self-conscious and nitpicky about. My hair was too thin, it was frizzy, and it didn't curl 'right.' My fingers were short and stubby and my nails were too. My toes were ugly. On the one hand, family members and adults told me I was beautiful, but on the other hand when I looked in the mirror I saw a girl who wasn't getting asked on any dates, so therefore I knew something was wrong with me. I wasn't entirely sure what it was, but I knew there had to be something.
For the most part, I have learned to be comfortable in my own skin...but even still I find myself finding--even searching--for things to complain about. I just measured this morning: 9 months after birthing a second baby, I am a "39-31-40" and I have returned to my pre-pregnancy weight. I'm not as thin as I was in high school or college, but I'm still slender and curvy. I still have blue eyes and long hair and clear skin. By all accounts I have nothing to complain about...and yet I still have low self-image days. The hair, the hands, the saggy breasts, the wiggly behind, the stretch-marked everything... But I am healthy! I have a spouse who thinks I am beautiful! How is this cultural distaste-for-self SO pervasive that it gets through to even the best of us?
I don't have the answers, I really don't. I wish I did. I do know that if I ever have daughters I will make every effort to build them up against the tidal wave of dissatisfaction.

I have thought of something which I'm going to try for myself, and I invite my readers to try it too. The book talked about how the obsessions with clear skin and perfect teeth and thinness became common right about the same time that scales and mirrors started being present in homes. For most of history a woman didn't know her weight or see her face unless she happened across a scale or mirror in a public place. Can you imagine how we might perceive ourselves if we weren't constantly thrown numbers and images like that?!
So this is my challenge: for 24 hours, don't step on a scale and don't look at yourself in a mirror. Tack up a pillowcase over your bathroom mirror if you need to, but don't look! Strike back at this image-obsessed culture, by being willing to be your (inner) self for a whole day, without fixating on our outer appearance. Of course you should comb your hair and otherwise care for yourself, but don't preen, don't 'fix yourself,' just take on the world as your own self.
Do you think you can do it? I sure would love to hear about it if you do.

Thank You Sockeye

I have said before that I believe in sustainable eating--in only taking what we can (will) use, and then in using all the parts of the animal (or, in making sure that all the parts are used, even if we don't use them all personally). I also believe in conscientious eating--that is to say, I believe in being grateful not just to the Lord for providing the food, but also to the animal who gave his life for our sustenance. Ancient tribes would give verbal thanks to the animal when they killed it, and I think that is a tradition worth remembering.
While I have not been present for the actual deaths of the 27 sockeye (red) and 2 pink salmon that Hubby has brought home this summer, I have done some of the cleaning and most of the filleting. I have tried to treat each fish with respect. To observe their beauty, to cut them carefully and not waste any meat. The guts and heads and other parts we don't use we try to either throw into the river at the time they are caught, or use for bait or throw back to the river or sea later on. We smoke or freeze the meat with the skin on, but since we don't eat most of the skin (Wolf likes to eat it sometimes), we give that to our dog. As I said, we try to respect the animal, and to waste no part of the life he gave to us.
I asked Hubby to take some pictures of a particularly big and beautiful fish so that I could document this side of our lives.
Look how big this guy is! Wash him off (Hubby guts them on site when he catches them).


Isn't he beautiful? I mean, he's a fish, and yeah he's a little slimy, but the colors on their heads and backs are so beautiful.
Take off the head, right behind the first fin (cutting as close to the fin as possible, so as not to waste meat). I find it hard to make that first cut--probably because that eye is looking back at me. But taking off the head (pardon the expression) dehumanizes the fish enough that I can do the rest. It is HARD for me to slice these guys open. Hard to think that we took a life. Sure, I know this was a spawning salmon and that it would have died within another week or so anyway, but still, we're responsible for his death, however slight it was in it's prematurity. That responsibility keeps me determined to use every bit of the meat.
Two very fat salmon fillets. As I'm taking the meat off the bones I often end up with little bits that didn't slice nicely--little scraps and bits. (I had a lot of those bits at first, I don't make so many now.) I collect all those together as well, and when I have a couple of cups I chop them up and use them to make salmon burgers or quiche or something like that.
I took a life to sustain my own; I must not waste it.

Own It

I found this notion in a book, but I don't recall which one.

I have noticed in myself--and in many other parents--the habit of referring to themselves in the third person. "Mommy doesn't it like it when you do that" "Daddy has to go now." It's a form of separating oneself from ones actions or feelings, and I've come to the conclusion that that's not a healthy thing to be teaching our children.
After all, when Bobby hits Johnny, don't we want him to take responsibility for what he did? When Janie feels angry, shouldn't she be able to own her emotions, and be accountable for whatever actions she takes? Of course they should, and so should we.

We refer to ourselves in first person when talking to other adults; I don't go to the bank and say "Jenni would like to make a deposit today," do I? So what is the difference with children? Sure, perhaps we're trying to reinforce identity by referring to ourselves by name ("mommy") but I think that kids can figure that out by other means.
So when my baby is testing out his sharp new little teeth, and bites me, I say "ouch, you hurt me!" rather than "oo, you hurt mommy." Mommy isn't some disconnected person, it's ME and I just got BITTEN! When "I" am hurt, when "I" need to go, when "I" am upset, I am owning my feelings and my actions. (There is a second part to that of course, that nobody can 'make' anyone feel anything. They can say or do things we don't like, but our feelings are our own...)

Forces For Good

I stumbled across this book today at the library. I brought it home because in the last two days ideas have begun swirling in my head. The more I think, the more the ideas come, and the more they fit together, and the more they feel good and, just, right.
Forces for Good" the six practices of high-impact nonprofits is specifically directed toward those who run or support nonprofit organizations, but its message is broader than that: anyone can be a force for good in the world, and if they access and utilize a few techniques and resources then they can be a BIG force for good in the world. It's in our hands.
Ghandi said "Be the change you want to see in the world." For over three years now I have used this blog (among other things) as a place to try to educate people, to encourage people to think about things from a new perspective, and to be a force for good in the world. Suddenly a concept for a nonprofit organization has been dropped in my lap by circumstance...by coincidence...or, maybe, by God. An idea that had never occurred to me as of three days ago is suddenly consuming many of my thoughts. An opportunity to be a bigger force for good in the world. An opportunity to be an activist in a cause I really really believe in. I am doing my research, and seeking partners for this endeavor, because I'm not naive enough to think that I can do this alone. But the idea just feels so right.
Hubby and I watched a movie tonight. It was a cheesy comedy and I can't really recommend it...except that there was one little thing in it that jumped out at me: the idea of saying yes to opportunities, even intimidating ones. Finding the book + seeing the movie + this recent train of thought + my recent path of trusting and following rather than trying to control things = perhaps I'm supposed to do this?

So I suppose you will want to know, what is this nonprofit I'm thinking about? In the most simple of terms, it would be focused on miscarriage education and (more importantly) support. It would involve a network of doulas to support women though their actual miscarriages as well as postpartum. It would involve counselors (professional or peer) to help parents in their grief. It would have information to help women know what to expect of a miscarriage at various stages, and it would have a place to share stories and photos. The more I think about this idea, the more it excites me. The more I become attached to it.
Just minutes ago I realized that even the date is significant in fact. August 17 was my due date for one of the babies I lost. August 17 was the date I miscarried another baby. And this year on August 17 the cosmos aligned to push me toward something new.