Healing is Hard Work

 Healing is hard work. That means it hurts sometimes…. Because it’s HARD. 

I’ve come so far in less than a week, but it’s hard work trying to heal. It’s just hard. I hate complaining. I hate crying. I hate feeling like it’s this horrible thing happening to me because there truly are people who have it worse. 


Yet, this is HARD. I’ve given birth to a 9#5oz baby with no interventions and this is harder than that. 

I managed a shower today. I managed a short (assisted) walk to the living room. I even managed to get my leg out of the shower alone. So many small wins and yet, those wins have a price. 

I want my leg to move the way I tell it to, when I tell it to do it. I want to bend my knee. I want to chase my kids and hold them. I want to cook for my family and sew for my children. I want to stop counting my day by how long until the next dose of medication. 

I want to be healed. 

If I’m being 100% honest, I want to go back in time at any point in the last 15 years and have SOMEONE believe me. Anyone. Anything to save me from this reality I’m living. 

Healing is hard work. No one, literally no one, told me this would be an easy recovery. I don’t think I could have prepared for the truth of this recovery. Although someone telling me that my quad would some how stop working would have been nice 😅


I’m here. This is my reality. This is my truth. 

It hurts. It’s hard. I want it to be worth it. 

It’s not a sprint, Britta. It’s a marathon. It takes time to recover what’s been lost. 


But, here I am, watching the alarm tick down, tossing and turning, praying for relief, and hoping for a small win tomorrow. 

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