Playgroup drama

For once, I have decided to avoid writing about baby-making frustrations, primarily because there is nothing new. (I'm still working on my thyroid, and I'm now seeing a regular endocrinologist. Lucky me.)

Instead, I would like to talk about playgroups. I am a member of the local chapter of a national organization for moms, Mothers & More. I am the playgroup coordinator. My job is to match moms in playgroups for their kids. We try to match every mom; anyone can join the organization.

My problem is a particular woman who is "playgroup poison." She has tried joining multiple playgroups to no avail. Some of the playgroups have dissolved naturally; others have fallen apart specifically because the other moms just want to get away from her. Every time I send out an e-mail about a playgroup looking for new members, she responds. She is currently in one playgroup, and wants to be in another one as well.

Why does nobody like her? Well, she's a user--she never offers anything herself, like providing a snack or hosting. Instead, she mooches off of everyone else. Wherever there is food, she will come. She sometimes stays well past the ending time of an event because her boyfriend hasn't picked her up on time, forcing the mom whose house it is to feed her and her kids lunch. She often pawns her kids off on other moms and doesn't watch them closely enough. And she just has a really depressing personality. Basically, she's a trashy woman.

I used to think some of the moms who didn't like her were being petty. Except that every single mom who has come in contact with her doesn't like her. It's difficult for me, being the playgroup coordinator, because I know what it feels like to be excluded. At the same time, would I want her in my playgroup? No!

Now, she has responded to an e-mail about an open playgroup, saying she'd like to join. I e-mailed the playgroup leader, and she has requested we discuss this on the phone later today. I know she is going to say they don't want her in their group, and what am I supposed to do? You can't force people to spend time together. Instead, I'm going to have to e-mail this woman and make up some excuse for why she can't join this playgroup I just advertised. Arg! "I'm sorry, A, but this playgroup is open to everyone but you."

Another blood test, another disappointment

I had yet another blood test to find out if the lowest possible dose of levothyroxin levels out my TSH. It doesn't--still too low. So now the plan is to go off the medication completely, wait yet another 5 weeks, then retest.

Honestly. By the time of my retest, it will have been 5 months since my first blood test. And I'm back to where I started. Part of me is furious at Dr. Hot for putting me on the medication in the first place, when it turns out I apparently didn't need it. Yet another part of me knows he's just doing his job; part of his job is make sure hormone levels are appropriate.

The other hard part to swallow, however, is that for the past 4 months, I have comforted myself by thinking, "What if I had gotten pregnant? That would have been disastrous!" when in actuality I don't have a hormone problem at all. In fact, we've actually CREATED a hormone problem by putting my on these drugs. So what was the point? Why in the world have I been delayed for so long?

Turmoil

Appearances can be deceiving. Anyone meeting me for the first time would think I'm a happy, successful mom who has everything she would ever want. Beneath the surface, however, I'm an emotional mess. And the worst part is, that mess is mostly composed of just insecurities.

The lowdown since I last posted: My thyroid is still out of whack. I broke down over the phone two weeks ago when I found out I am way sensitive to levothyroxene, meaning my TSH is still way too low (.00something). I am now on 12.5 mcg of levo, or a half tablet of the lowest dose. If this doesn't work, I will probably go off the med altogether, meaning the past four months have been a complete waste of time. In the meantime, I'm finding out about more and more pregnancies, of course.

I've been trying to concentrate on Tyler and the rest of my life, but my old pesky nemesis Social Anxiety has surfaced again, this time with a vengeance. It's hard to explain social anxiety, but let me try: No matter how many friends I have, I feel like nobody likes me and nobody wants to be around me. When a friendship falls apart, I feel like it's the end of the world. No thanks to Facebook, I feel like everyone else is having an absolutely fabulous summer, and I'm just staying in place.

I've been trying to get myself out of this funk, but it is just really, really hard. How can you just convince yourself to be satisfied with what you have, without looking for more?

The frustration never ends

I got my blood tested, and now my TSH level is too low. The doctor prescribed a new dose, along with Provera so I can get a period (because it's been 7 weeks, and that's too long). So, we wait yet another six weeks for my body to get used to the new dosage.

Damn. Damn, damn, damn. At this rate, it will be late summer before I can even think of starting to try again (because there's no guarantee my levels will be right even after this dosage). I should have known, after our first time around, that I can never actually plan what's going to happen in my reproductive life.

Well, the good news is that I can now take my Category C allergy meds for the next couple of months without the fear of harming our baby-making efforts.

Like many of you, I also have this little timer in my head that's tick, tick, ticking away. How long before we can start trying again? At what point do we just call it a day? This thyroid issue could end up delaying us for six months or more--and that's not even including failed cycles once we start doing medicated cycles.

This just sucks. Apparently, God is telling me that I'm supposed to enjoy my summer without thinking of trying to conceive. Arg. Happy Mother's Day to me.

(The preceding post has been brought to you by the Feeling Sorry for Yourself Club.)

A "has-been" in the Pain Olympics

Six months ago, I joined the board of a professional marketing organization. Our bi-monthly meetings are an hour away, and I have been carpooling with another new board member in my area. She and I have spent about six hours alone in the car together, so we've been getting to know each other.

During our first trip, I made the huge foot-in-mouth mistake of asking her if she had children. She said no. Awkward pause. I've been beating myself up for that mistake ever since.

Yesterday, we were talking about houses, and she mentioned that when they moved into their current house, it was looking like the kid thing wasn't going to happen for them, which influenced their choices. I took a leap and asked whether the kid-less thing was by choice or not. That opened the floodgates, and we spent about 45 minutes talking about infertility treatments, doctors, etc. (She had gone through hell before finally giving up many years ago.) I revealed my past and present to her, and I think we both enjoyed comparing and contrasting experiences.

Except. I have a live child and she has just the memories of three miscarriages. While I wouldn't ordinarily talk about my current issues with somebody who has experienced much more heartbreak than me, the conversation just naturally went in that direction, and I expressed my frustration at having to deal with this new diagnosis. Later in the conversation, she said the inevitable to me: "Well, at least you do have a child."

And there it is. Of course she's right--I have no right to complain, especially not to her. I remember back before I had Tyler, and I came across the blog of a woman who was having difficulties conceiving her third child. I had no sympathy for her whatsoever, even when she wrote that she knew it sounded strange, but it grieved her knowing that her family was not complete.

I think that's the hard part for me right now. I feel frustrated while feeling guilty. Of course, I know that it's OK to want a second child, but my pain was so...defined....last time around. Now, it's much more complicated.

Even in the blogosphere, I considered visiting new blogs to find myself a new "community." I soon realized, however, that many of the people out there would have no sympathy for me whatsoever because I have a healthy toddler in my house.

I don't win in the Pain Olympics anymore. So do I just keep my mouth shut?

Back in the saddle

There's nothing quite like listening to a roomful of doctors discuss your uterus.

Oh hysterosalpinogram, how I've missed you so. Although to be truthful, this time around it didn't hurt nearly so much.

The two or three of you who have been checking in on me periodically must be wondering what's up with me. Here's the rundown, medically and emotionally. First, medically...

M and I have been trying for four cycles now, and zilch. After my last cycle was 7 weeks long, I went in for a reunion with Dr. Hot last week(who is looking a little grey in the temple, by the way). He was all set to start me on a Femara cycle, except that my routine bloodwork turned out to be not-so-routine. I have an underactive thyroid, which means I need to take meds to get me back in line, definitely through a pregnancy, and possibly for the rest of my life. What a bummer. I guess a hormone problem like this can really harm a pregnancy, so God was really watching out for me those months I was trying to get pregnant. It takes my breath away thinking how I dodged a bullet. Yet, even while my brain knows it was a good thing I haven't gotten pregnant yet, my heart is really, really frustrated that it could be several months before I can even start trying again.

Emotionally, I'm starting to feel all the same envy as last time. Although, I have to admit it's not nearly as bad this time around. It does suck, though, because all the toddler play areas are filled with pregnant women. Everywhere I look, someone is knocked up! Honestly, people have just got to stop procreating. After my appointment with Dr. Hot last week, my friend revealed she's 11 weeks pregnant with an "oops" baby--her third. (She didn't know where I'd been.) Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

During my HSG this morning, there was a question about whether my uterus was mishapen, which was why all the doctors were discussing it. It turned out to be nothing, but man, was I nervous.

Ugh. So here I am, in the trenches again. You may have noticed I am no longer a private blog. I decided, to hell with it. If someone I know is reading this blog, welcome to my private thoughts!

I'm going to try my best to post more often now, so stay tuned!

CD1

Bleh.

I can't help myself. I already have visions of myself a year from now, still trying and wondering whether it would be better to go for infertility treatments, adoption or just let it be and be happy with one kid.

Logically, I know I'm being silly. It's only been two cycles! But frankly, I'm just not used to this cycle roller coaster. My problem is supposed to be ovulating--not conceiving in general. I think that deep down, I'm almost hoping that I start having trouble ovulating again, because then I can legitimately seek help right away, instead of waiting, waiting, waiting.

Honestly, I had forgotten how maddening trying to conceive can be.

But.

There's Tyler. And although he was teething and had a cold for Christmas, he is now just as cute as can be, happily playing in one of our storage containers with a wrapping paper roll.

And while I'm envious of other women who are pregnant right now, and I'm impatient, and just a teeny bit worried...it's not painful. It doesn't hit me in the pit of my stomach like it did three years ago.