Having a baby is like setting a bomb off in the centre-most part of your life. Everything gets blown to smithereens and scattered around, and chaos ensues. It's marvelous, in the most 'Armageddon' type way you can imagine.
By four months old even during her most sleep-resistant nights baby McP was doing 3-4 hour stints in between wake-ups, and a routine had started to emerge. I was told it would take about 4 months to start feeling a little more normal by my more experienced baby-mama friends. Only at four months exactly I started feeling worse.
|My self-raising world-exploding bomb|
Just as I had started to figure out her arse from her elbow (and my own, for that matter), and life had begun to become manageable again (meaning I showered once a day and didn't leave the baby in the Supermarket by accident), I was hit with an overwhelming wall of illness. If Jamie or my mother were around, I would fling baby into their arms and slump into bed for anything from 3-6 extra hours of sleep each day
My heart was racing all of the time and stairs left me panting and dizzy at the top. My vision was blurry and my blood sugars all over the place, having already jumped from 6.1 - 7.2 HbA1c since the whirlwind arrived. My blog, advocacy work and consulting had all but disappeared. But it was the fact that my daughter was practically raising herself meant I had to get things checked out.
Symptoms explained and blood drawn the results came back with a bump. My last thyroid tests taken only six weeks before my symptoms began had been absolutely fine. My latest ones showed my T3 and T4 to be as much as four times the levels they should. And the hyperthyroidism diagnosis followed.
The job at hand at the moment is to find out why it happened (in the hope that it may be temporary) and how to manage it alongside the 'normal diabetes' (whatever that may be) and current lack of hypo symptoms (yay!). Thankfully the beta blockers mean the pounding heart no longer makes it feel and sound as though I have a little man running around in my head, and I am no longer pounding along at 100 miles an hour.
And hey, when it comes auto-immune disorders, it's the more the merrier, right?
Anyone else living with this and able to give an old tired girl some tips?