Today, I begin the long journey back… 8.5 hours between me and my own bed.
Every bump in the road feels magnified, every turn sharp and jarring. My body is tender, stitched together and swollen, and the motion sickness has already set in. Even with pillows tucked around me and breaks to breathe through the waves of nausea, the car ride is its own kind of battle.
It’s strange how something as simple as sitting still in the passenger seat can feel like a marathon. Each kilometre closer to home is a reminder of just how raw my body still is. But each kilometre is also progress. Each one takes me closer to the comfort of my own space, to rest that feels more like rest, to the quiet I need to begin healing properly.
This recovery is not easy. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and relentless at times. But just like the road I’m on now, there is a destination waiting at the end of it, one that makes every difficult kilometre worth it.
Home is waiting. Healing is waiting. And step by step, bump by bump, I’ll get there.
The War Inside My Womb 
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