Ah, the deep-shit dilemma. Every first-year chicken keeper hits this wall eventually, and our friend from the Chicago winter learned the hard way that straw is a lying liar who lies. It looks fluffy and innocent in the fall, but by February it's a frozen lasagna of terror. We have opinions on this, and they start with: you are not alone, friend. This is a rite of passage. Welcome to the club; we have shovel-handle blisters.
Here's what happened: that straw was doing exactly what you thought it was doing, insulating the coop from the cold. But insulation works both ways. It also trapped every single dropping your flock produced for months, turning the floor into a petrified compost slab. When temps dropped below freezing, it was fine. You could walk on it. The smell was minimal. You were probably patting yourself on the back for a smart setup. Then the thaw came, and that floor turned back into what it always was: three inches of shit sponge with a crust. The good news? You caught it before spring flush-out, when moisture and warmth turn that slab into a disease petri dish. The bad news? You're going to need a wheelbarrow, a heavy-duty shovel, and possibly a therapist.
The most practical thing you can do right now is admit that you cannot dig that stuff out with your bare hands or a garden trowel. It's compacted into a single horrifying entity. A flat-edged spade or a pitchfork will be your best friend. Chip at it in sections, like you're breaking up a sidewalk made of guilt. And here's the dirty secret: this happens to everyone at least once. Straw is popular because it's cheap and warm, but it's also a moisture-trapping nightmare when left too long. For next winter, consider pine shavings. They don't mat down as badly, they wick moisture better, and when the thaw comes, you can scoop them out with less back-breaking labor. You can also try the "deep litter method" with a twist, add a fresh layer of shavings on top every week instead of leaving the straw untouched for months. It builds compost in place and stays fluffy, and you only do a full cleanout once or twice a year.
So yes, thug it out. But thug it out smarter. Get that wheelbarrow, wear a mask because dried chicken manure dust will wreck your lungs, and do the job in sections if you have to. You've already proven you can keep birds alive through a Chicago winter. That's harder than shoveling a coop. Learn from the straw mistake, switch to shavings, and next February you'll be laughing instead of crying. Probably.