Summer 2009
Mark summer 2009 as the point at which I accepted the pain wasn't going to go away. We replaced our manual car with an automatic, I began physical therapy, our dream house morphed to a single level, and I spent three days in a row (and counting, to be perfectly honest) crying and feeling sorry for myself. And angry. Big, giant angry.
Mark summer 2009 as the point at which I discontinued the postpartum anti-depressants that had initially kept me alive, but which sucked me dry of emotion and wanting and energy. Mark it as the season I surfaced, all raw and atrophied, and did what was needed.
Sacroiliac Joint Dysfunction, Osteitis Pubis (both due to hypermobility).
