...in geologic time, and perhaps compared to the long suffering of many women with the wacky symptoms of hypothyroidism. I'm writing about my experiences because I hope some other gal out there who's scared and getting less than helpful information will benefit from my tales. It goes without saying that all TMI bets are off. I like to get detailed and --okay, ladies, don't cringe-- I've come to really love my body in all its gory glory.
My husband and I were old friends when we decided to team up and make a family. I had been longing for a man who would make a good father, and he'd been longing for a woman ready to have children. Perfect, right?
Well, there was this little problem. Hubby's reproductively stellar, but me? I'm not so great. Or so it seemed. I had this disturbing spotting, sometimes as much as a week before my period began to flow. Sometimes it felt like I was just spotting for my entire luteal phase, but in a regular pattern and without pain (thankfully). And no doc in the E. European city I lived in at the time had a clue. I tried antibiotics for three weeks and felt even shittier and spotted more. So I got a second, perhaps even stupider opinion and I tried progesterone, which turned out to be just as useless and made me feel like a blotted, weepy, brainless marshmallow. After my trials, the dodo gyn's helpful summary: "Your ovaries don't work." In frustration, I went into denial until my future husband leaped onto the scene and whisked me back to the U.S.
Fortunately, temps showed I was apparently ovulating regularly, following that charming textbook pattern of dips and rises and falls. Now back in the States with my man, I went to another doctor, a nice crunchy naturopath who said it was either the mysterious luteal phase defect or polyps. Not having health insurance, I had to put my quest for clarity on hold.
For a year. Yeah, I know. But once I finally returned to the fold of the insured, I went to yet another ob/gyn of the more classical medical bent. She, like the others, was a bit baffled, so she tried a few blood tests. Progesterone: very nice, and further confirmed ovulation, as did a mid-cycle ultrasound. The HSG= tubes clear. No anemia or bleeding disorders, but when it came to TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone), I was underachieving at 4.5. This figure, as the educated hypo will tell you, is way above the new normal ranges, some of which put the higher end of healthy at 3 or less. Some docs insist that to get pregnant, the 1-2 range is ideal. My doc was fortunately well read enough to know about the changes in ranges and put me on Synthro*d. Over the next few months, I worked with an acupuncturist/herbalist and slowly increased my 'roid dosage. My cycles improved and the dread pirate Spot retreated. I felt better, ate better, stopped indulging my E. European-inspired love of wine, coffee and sweets, and started being so good to myself, it's ridiculous.
So we shall see. We're getting impatient -- it's been over two years since we started having sex without a net -- and may start on the IF coaster with some festive IUIs or something. Or I may continue to pursue my strict hippy path to parenthood until I can't take it anymore. Either way, the 'roid still needs to pick up the pace, and I'm hoping to convince my ob/gyn next week to up my dose and get me into that blessed promised land of 1-2 TSH.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
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