Bryan bought me the best present ever last night.. a breast pump. Seriously, what has my life become? A life without swollen boobs, that’s what. It’s just a little manual thing, but OHMYGOD, to express some of that extra baggage was better than sex. Or Birthday Cake ice cream from Bruster’s. (Mmmm.. Bruster’s.) If my nu-nu did not have stitches in it and I had just a TAD more sleep, I might actually feel normal now.
We went to the doctor today, who is The Boy’s pediatrician but I had never met before. She’s very sweet and was eager to diagnose Tony’s lucky foot. She immediately said it wasn’t a club foot. I’ve included some pics on Flickr that explain further what we’ve found out. (Be sure to roll your mouse over the pics for notes.) We go to see the specialist tomorrow morning, but the pediatrician said that surgery may be the only way to fix his foot.
It’s hard not to start to point fingers when something gets hard. It’s a common consensus among every medical professional who’s seen him that this deformation is a result of how he was carried in utero. I want to be angry with my doctor; for letting me carry so long, for not taking more ultrasounds, for not having the omnipotence to know that my child was not growing right. I want to be angry with the specialist who came in to the hospital for not demanding immediate treatment (or, you know, even taking an xray). But really, I’m trying not to be angry at me. Mainly because I know how fruitless it is and how martyrish is sounds. But you are inundated with the “what ifs”.
He is so incredibly sweet. I feel like I’m bragging, but he has yet to come into contact with anyone who hasn’t marveled at how laid-back and calm he is. Just content. He often just sits, staring and cooing, and I’m still fascinated by how fabulous he is.
I’m off to nap. I’m starting to not be coherent anymore. For instance, every date I had to fill in at the doc’s office this morning was 12/07/07. Why? Cause that’s Tony’s birthday. Is it my birthday? No. Today’s date? Nope. Bryan’s birthday? Nuh uh. But I sure used it. Every single time.
I’m sure the office thinks I’m retarded. And they’d be half right.
Argh!! We’re pumping!! Ok, I will call daddy. He will bring you down the auto pump ASAP.
oh how I love the pump to take a little off the top! I hope the feeding is going well, i was in so much pain those first two weeks.
The x-rays are facinating! Thanks for sharing them.. i really hope that it all works out well.
As for blaming yourself? Im sure I would do the same thing but knock it off- you know better. He is still your perfect little baby, period! You should brag about him, we want to hear the bragging.
He and Pam were so sweet. Tony was fussy for them, though. I guess he’d run out of angel juice for the day.
“he has yet to come into contact with anyone who hasn’t marveled at how laid-back and calm he is. Just content. He often just sits, staring and cooing, and I’m still fascinated by how fabulous he is.”
So……. Tony is probably an old, old soul who has come back for another go-around. I always felt the same about our James. Some babies are tabula rasa, but others…..
Here’s a photograph from one of my favorite photographers.
I know very well how you are feeling. R’s right hip never formed in utero because of the way she was positioned in there (frank breech). She had to wear a full-body brace for the first six weeks of her life and then a lower-body brace until she was six months. The pictures are heartbreaking and there are not very many of them. I went straight to blaming myself. And I still do, a little bit. But she is fine now. And I am glad we did all the treatments and therapies. And I wish you strength and good luck.