Trying harder to eat healthier for my own good

Whdn one uses the word ‘try’ in a sentence, it’s basically a massive get out clause. So when I say I’m going to ‘try ‘ to be healthier, I’m trying to add a hedge that life often gets in the way, which is one of the only reasons I’m ever unhealthy when it comes to eating in the first place. Compared to many, I make exceptionally “healthy” food choices most of the time, and yet, conventional wisdom being mostly flawed, I find myself getting sicker, fatter, stiffer and generally unhealthier despite my efforts.

Perhaps then, there’s something wrong with me, and like most people I’m passing on a ragtag of weird and wonderful genes to my unborn child, including clear links to autism, crohns, high blood pressure, or, from its father, thrombosis. It’s enough to make you paranoid. But having spent the first half of my pregnancy feeling pretty a-ok (whoohoo, no periods!) I find myself at the midpoint starting to suffer an altogether scarier ailment. It started off with the World Cup- coupled with the glorious weather and the nation’s celebratory mood, I indulged in one or two non alcoholic beers on a few occasions. Each and every time, I ended up with a kind of hangover that went to my back- I woke up stiff, with a painful burning sensation.

In general, I try to avoid processed carbs at the best of times, knowing I’m a bit sensitive to them, so I assumed it was the gluten and I should steer clear, though avoiding bread, pasta and rice felt too onerous during my ravenous 2nd trimester with a full time job and two famished pre-tweens, so I knew I was indulging more than normal, especially around high days and holidays.

After a family bbq, I decided to be economical with the leftover potatoes and sea bream we’d griddled on the bbq, and ground them into fish cakes, feeling smug I was being pretty healthy as well as making a cheap meal. I woke up in agony. The pain in my hips was as bad as early labour. I figured something was amiss.

Previously I’ve been referred to a rheumatologist as I have back problems and a family history of ankylosing spondilitus (a nasty auto immune condition that fuses your spine). But although she’s not discounted me having this in the past, I don’t carry the gene typically associated with this condition, which typically presents in men. So although my grandfather and now my father suffered from this- my dad recently hospitalised with a fused pelvis and knee that may soon see him in a wheelchair permanently – He’s not yet 65- there’s no clear evidence (except my pain) that I do.

Yet it’s with some anxiety that I fear not only for the genetic health of my new offspring but also what damage might be being done during my pregnancy, which can flare the condition for those women unlucky enough to suffer from it. I think I may be one of them. Previous investigations suggested my spine was already “straightening”- the bones starting to fuse between my shoulders. My own research suggests that starch in the diet can progress the condition, feeding a bacteria called a Klebsiella in the gut that creates the inflammation that causes it. Certainly my experience is that I’m stiffer, in more pain, the morning after I eat starchy food- which I’ve been indulging in more since I became pregnant.

These foods offer easy calories, and with a 4 mile round cycle to work (pregnancy does not lend itself to the central line at rush hour) I’ve felt like I needed them.

But with a clear link between auto immune conditions like ankylosing spondilitus, and other gut issues like crohns (which my cousin suffers from) rheumatoid arthritis (another cousin on the other side) and autism (at least three second cousins are diagnosed) I worry what difficulties I may be storing up for the child in my belly.

So, with a deep sigh of resignation, I’m again embarking on a starch free diet in the hope I can staunch, not only issues for my baby, but also the pain, weight gain and crippling suffering that has affected members of my family, like my dad, who sent me a picture of his back (a mess) and whose stopped gait and painful walk belies his globe- hopping existence that means we rarely see each other in real life.

One thing’s for sure though, that grains aren’t good for means if this simple change can avoid a lifetime of misery, then so but it. In the meantime, I’ve been checking out some grain-free bloggers to get inspired to feed my family of fussy eaters- I just hope I won’t get sucked back into the convenience of bread, pasta and rice once the little one arrives because whatever else may happen, I know I’ll have my hands full for a while to come. But the way I’m feeling right now, lugging a baby and then a toddler around is already feeling like harder work than I would hope it should.