My heart is breaking. But my body has been finding healing. I have more energy, I can do more, my symptoms are lessening. But deep within me I have this ache.
Everything feels ironic being chronically ill. You see, it’s usually the other way around: my heart is OK, but my body is breaking.
Or really, both are breaking because of my body. The early years of motherhood were stolen away by illnesses. Going undiagnosed for two years fighting to stay alive with severe postpartum depression and early stages of dysautonomia rearing their head.
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