Mama Mia

Here's a lesson in irony for all you English students out there.

When I was a child I HATED pizza. I know, I know, it's crazy. A kid who doesn't like pizza?! But that was me. And it wasn't like I never tried it, I did! In fact, I desperately WANTED to like it. I hated having to bring my own food to a birthday party if I knew they were serving pizza, or explaining to my soccer coach that I didn't like it after he took the team out for lunch. More than once I either forced myself to swallow a few bites while trying not to gag, or I just went hungry. It was embarrassing and it made me feel like there was something wrong with me. I did everything possible to keep this strange eating quirk secret if I could.

Fast forward ten years, an evolution of taste buds, and a trip to Italy later, and suddenly Italian food is my absolute favorite. Pizza and Pasta everyday and I would be a happy girl. In fact, after my trip to Italy I became somewhat of a pizza snob (thin crust, fresh mozz,...mmm).

One more jump in time: The past year I've been struggling with health issues. Forgive me if it's TMI, but it's all part of the story. If you don't feel like reading about the messy details then go ahead and skip to the end, it still gets the point across.

It all started when I was pregnant with my second son. I started having a lot of digestive issues. Stomach cramps, diareah, nausea. At first I thought it was just normal pregnancy stuff. When I was about five months along though, I caught a stomach bug, and instead of it lasting 24 hours like they usually would, it lasted over a week. I was miserable and freaked out about becoming dehydrated. Nothing worked, even eating rice or bread would go right through me and I literally had to starve myself for almost two days in order to finally get better. After that incident I was concerned but things went back to normal for a bit so I was just focused on my pregnancy. Later that summer, after Skylar was born, I got sick again, except this time it lasted for almost a month. After starting to feel better for a few days I decided to have a nice breakfast since I was staying with some friends (we were escaping from no electricity at our house during Hurricane Irene). About twenty minutes after breakfast I felt an intense pain in my stomach and I knew I had to throw up. I quickly handed off my two month old to my husband and ran to the bathroom. My stomach was cramping and the vomiting was painful. Afterwards I collapsed on the bathroom floor, so weak that I could barely get up. I actually called my husband on my cell phone even though he was in the next room and told him I needed to go to the hospital. This time I really did get dehydrated. After a few hours on fluids and anti-nausea medication in the emergency room, blood tests, stool, and urine samples, I was told I could go home and anything unusual from the tests they would let me know. I followed up with my regular doctor and it took about a week longer to get over it completely. Nothing came back on the test results, so I went about life as normal. Things seemed to even out a bit over the next few months but every once in a while I would have that nauseous feeling again or wake up in the middle of the night with horrible stomach pains. Eventually I got sick of it, and after having not felt much confidence in my doctors I decided to do my own research. I looked up my symptoms online and possible things that could be causing them. After much research I decided to cut out gluten and dairy from my diet and see if it made a difference. It was really tough at first, but after about two weeks I started to feel better than I have in almost two years. I was feeling great, and not just physically, I felt a relief because I had finally figured out what was going on. I approached a doctor about getting tested for Celiacs Disease--a disease that causes the body to not be able to digest gluten and damages the small intestines. That's when I found out that I would have to start eating gluten again in order to get accurate test results. ugh. The first week was torture. Towards the end of the month my body built up a tolerance again, but I still felt like I was living in a fog.

I had an endoscopy and colonoscopy done, and all the necessary blood tests. Everything came back negative and the doctor said it must just be IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) which is basically a doctor's way of saying, "I have no idea what it is", with lactose and gluten intolerance. Okay, so great, no celiacs disease, just intolerant. So I continued to eat gluten free, but I admit that because the diagnosis wasn't serious, I began to cheat every once in awhile. All of a sudden I'm the girl who can't eat Pizza again! And even though it's not just a taste bud issue, but a medical one, it brings me back to that place as a kid, where I don't want to be the "weird girl" with food issues. If someone offers me a muffin, it's easier for me to accept it--knowing the physical consequences that I may suffer later--than to just explain I can't eat it and get "the look". I know that it's mostly in my head that anyone would think I am weird, or being hyper sensitive, or just on a fad diet. But for some reason it's something that I struggle with. It's like being ten and just wanting to eat a damn piece of pizza so I can fit in.

Just last week, after some cheating, I developed a rash. An ugly, itchy, annoying rash, on my chest and arms. The only thing I could think of that could cause it was my gluten intake. Which makes me put away any doubt that I am gluten intolerant and possibly even Celiac, even though my test results were negative (there is a high percentage of false negatives when testing for celiacs especially for people who already started eating gluten free). It's been a crazy journey, and it's made me realize some things about myself.

I am using this set back as a new beginning. Recommitting to the gluten free diet, no more cheating, and even more importantly, confronting these issues that seem to be resurfacing as a result. Among them, sharing my own struggles, listening to my body and trusting it, making peace with the hand I've been dealt, and not worrying about what others may think.

Good thing there is a bakery in town that makes an amazing gluten free pizza :)

Wishing you all health and happiness, spiritually and physically.