I've been taking the new thyroid medication for one week. Essentially, this doctor has tripled my old dose (I looked up a conversion chart online, of course). I kept expecting heart palpitations and rapid heartbeat and uncontrollable panting, sweating--signs of too much thyroid medication/hormone. But nothing of the sort. Not even close. So I guess it turns out I really am hypothyroid. Seriously. For a while there I'd convinced myself that this wasn't my problem. That somehow all the symptoms were caused by something else (post-partum adjustments, laziness, poor sleep hygiene) and my somewhat normal bloodwork was totally telling the truth.
Well, it isn't. I'm convinced now. Because this week...
I took one nap, and that was Sunday afternoon with the baby. Total indulgence instead of necessary to keep moving.
I made a skirt for Sophia.
I finished Sophia's sweater that I've been working on for a shameful length of time.
I got about halfway done with Leo's baby quilt that I've been working on for a shameful length of time.
I cleaned the guestroom, the bathroom, my bedroom, the kitchen.
I almost finished the kitchen painting.
I stood on my back porch and surveyed the damage a summer of neglect does to a yard. And I got kind of angry. Angry at myself for letting things get so bad, angry at people around me for not noticing that I was drowning, angry at the first and second doctors for pointing at my (medicated) TSH levels and saying, nope, everything's fine there (without looking at my T3 levels, whatever all this means...). And then I got kind of hard to live with for 3 or 4 days (just ask Mike). And then I let it go.
I made a batch of muffins for back-to-school meet-and-greet whatever thing.
I made a pie.
I took Leo's 6 month photos the day after he turned 7 months. Ah well.
I did a tie-dye project with Sophia, Maeve, and a neighbor.
I had coffee only 3 of the past 8 days (instead of my usual 8 of the last 8 days).
I went on a 24 mile bike ride.
I started cleaning up the mess of my yard, but slowly because it is somewhat (no, a lot) discouraging.
I helped the girls clean the attic. Without yelling.
I did a lot of laundry. And a lot of vacuuming.
I got Sophia to Kumon on the right day and time.
I was able to figure out what our fall schedule, with dance and Kumon and piano, will be. Seriously, this sort of planning was kind of beyond me a few weeks ago.
I got up at 6:30 this morning, got everyone up and ready and out the door by 8:05, with Sophia's lunch made and everyone fed breakfast and the baby changed twice.
I kept realizing that I was happy. Suddenly and for the first time in who knows how long.
And now it's 1 in the afternoon on the first day of school. I have to get the van looked at sometime maybe today, maybe not today (depends on the insurance company), at the auto body place, I have to go to Target, I have to pick up Sophia, she has to go to dance, dinner has to happen somewhere in there...and it doesn't make me want to crawl into bed and sleep for 4 hours just to get ready.