One year.
One year has come and gone since the day that changed me as an individual.
One year ago my back injury flared up so bad that it left me hospitalized for two weeks unable to move, walk or care for myself in any way (seriously, any modesty hang ups I had went out the window the day I needed a nurse to wheel me into the shower and bathe me). One year ago I was unsure if I would be home for my sons first Christmas (but man did I work and pray hard to make sure I was with him Christmas morning). I was unsure when I would walk again, I was unsure when I would be able to live my life again.

It’s been a really tough year to put it mildly, not just for me, but for my family - and I still feel that. I have come a long way in this healing journey. I have learned lesson after lesson about faith, patience, unconditional love and how strong I really am. So here’s my update…

I am back at work almost four full days a week.
I still have a crazy amount of appointments that have made our lives logistical nightmares, but some how we manage thanks to the emoji calendar my husband bought us that hangs proudly on our fridge.
I am working twice a week with a person trainer to build core and muscle strength again (which currently looks like 25 minutes of breathing exercises twice a week that makes me wonder week after week why I’m spending so much money on this - but I know it’s necessary, and this is just where I’m at right now).
I care for Maximus a lot on my own now when Greg is at work or away coaching. I love our time together and I feel like it’s making up for all the moments we didn’t get to have together this year.
I live a pretty independent life right now, something I could not say a year ago. What brings me so much hope is on the days when I feel “off” or pain life still keeps moving. I am still able to do 95% of the things I listed above. It’s very encouraging even on the most frustrating days.

God is good.

Okay, here’s the other side of all that goodness you just read. Now that the dust has seemingly settled on the physical aspect of my healing journey I am left to now address the emotional and mental side of it all.
I am angry. There I said it. Angry. I want so badly to be healed. I want so badly to sit on the floor and build the tallest towers with Maximus - and I still cannot do it - yet. I constantly feel like I am missing out on the little years and there are no words to describe this awful, awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
There is a lot of fear living inside me. We are a society that takes our phones everywhere with us, but most of the time when I leave a room and grab my phone it’s because I fear something may happen to me, I won’t be able to move and have no way to call for help. Fear.
Crowded and loud spaces stress me out and take my anxiety from 0 to 100 real quick. I am terrified of being bumped into or pushed, so I avoid a lot of places at high traffic times. Guess who did all their Christmas shopping online this year (this gal!).
I am grieving. I know that sounds weird, trust me, it sounds weird to me too. But it’s the truth. I am grieving everything I envisioned life to be with a small child and as a family of three, and everything I had hoped for in our future. I cry often, and sometimes that just the therapy I need, a really really good cry.

God is still good.

Although I still have a ways to go, I sure have come really far. I have leaned in heavily to my faith, praying daily that the chains and lies would be broken. Some days are much easier than others, but I continue to push through and believe. My mantra this year has been “let hope rise”. When I feel alone, scared or unsure: from the depth of my soul, let hope rise within me.
Below I added pictures of my journey this past year and I hope you’ll celebrate all God’s goodness with me, and remember, in pain and in sorrow, in joy and in strength, He is still so so good.

(note: Scrolling through the pictures from the past year was actually quite hard for me to relive. I chose a few photos that signify key moments in my head and heart from the past year)

This moment is still so vivid in my mind. After being brought to the hospital via ambulance, I was laying in the emergency room, begging the nurses for any sort of pain killer to decrease the pain, all well my family rallied to care for Maximus, be with me and pray over me.

Day two of my hospital stay, the first time I got to see and hold Maximus. I cried the entire time and even harder when he left.

Maximus’ first Christmas. I worked so hard to be discharged from the hospital to be home for this moment. He may not remember it, but I will.

Maximus and I learning to walk together. He was successful before I was :)

My first time outside for a doctors appointment, at the end of January. I had a major panic attack leading up to this moment. I was terrified of walking down the stairs (something I hadn’t done), going into the cold weather and back to the doctors office where everything started. I remember putting on worship music and humming along the entire way to my appointment.

My first time holding Maximus without having to lean against a wall, or sit down. This moment was so good for this mama’s heart. (Also my transition to a walker with wheels).

One of my first times going back to our home and when I finally graduated from my walker to my cane. This is the only picture I have with the cane because I refused to have it in any other pictures because I didn’t want to remember myself with a cane (literally, that’s what I said every time a picture was being taken).

That time when I threw Maximus a first birthday party in July, when his birthday was in January, but this mama had been planning this party from the day he was born and was determined to see it through. It was also a celebration of those who rallied around us in our time of need.