I know Ronda, Christina, Pocklock, and BookMamma were all freaked out that I tweeted about having a cast set on the Binja yesterday, and then it didn’t help that I had this picture up as well:
So, just to put everyone’s minds at ease: that boy is fine. I mean, LOOK AT HIM. He is a yawn away from being comatose. Even when a screeching cast saw was coming at him, he barely widened his eyes. He makes Gandhi look like a candidate for Ritalin therapy.
Long story short: you can read about the day at Bryan’s site. I could rehash the same story here, but I’m still not really sure how I feel about it. Being the hippie mom that I am, I seem to be faced with a whole world of questions and very few answers.
Do we want to perform leg-lengthening surgery before he starts school, or wait until he’s in his teens? Jesus, I don’t want to do it. EVER. It’s painful, it’s long, and it’s multi-phase. It involves breaking his bones and setting them with bone grafts. And while I think that he’d be better equipped to mentally handle the trauma and pain if he were older, then he’d have to endure the trauma and pain of being younger as “the kid with a lift in his shoe”. And is that really worth the trade off? I dunno. And while we’re on that topic..
How different do I want my child to be? None. I want him to be none different. But, see, I’m a hippie. And I want him to know that he IS different. We ALL are. We are all different, unique in our strengths AND our weaknesses, and we are beautiful because of them. We are all perfect creatures as we were made. Except? I don’t want him to have to learn that by being the one kid who IS different.
It’s really a flood of emotions, knowing kids can be SO cruel as it is and still having yet another open wound for them to grind salt into. And while I want him to be loving and compassionate and embrace everyone as they are, I know that not all parents will teach that and not all children will learn that.
We call it his “lucky foot” because we want him to be able to realize that it has made him lucky. He had to be different and because of that, he was lucky enough to be stronger for it, be smarter for it, be compassionate because of it.
There is no question that we make light of the situation around our house and in our circle of friends. But when I hold his hands and he works so hard to stepstepstep to something, and then he crooks his little neck to observe that one foot, that one ankle that works so differently than the other, and he furrows his brow as if to say, “COME ON, FOOT, JUST WORK LIKE THE OTHER ONE”, well, there is nothing funny about that. It is, frankly, heartbreaking. And it rips me up.
So. There you have it. If I’m a little quieter than usual, you know why. The outcome was not horrible.. there WAS improvement, but we may have to expedite the surgical options, and we’re definitely jumping into the brace ocean with both lucky feet. But now we face the harsh reality of what our child is up against. And how I wish I could fight all of those battles for him.
That was so much heavier than I meant for it to be when I started, and I apologize. I owe a Dear Binja for his nine month, which technically began on Sunday, but until I can digest this latest venture, I’m not sure I can give it the proper attention. So bear with me and just lap up these uber cute pics of my precious little baby boy.
At the doctor’s office, pre-cast. He is such a charmer.
My birthday dinner at our cajun haunt, playing with Grandmommy Brown.
A moment in time shot: driving back from Atlanta, The Boy konked out. The Binja started lovingly rubbing his head. Too precious.
A sunny day in our front yard. Look at the pinchableness of my babeh!
Probably my favorite pic of all time. So proud of himself. And grossed out as I was, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Sarah , I am crying for you now. Damnit why does it have to be hard?! It was “supposed” to fix itself. Im sorry, I know this isnt what you want to hear but I am mad! Im mad for you hurting, Im mad for that OB of yours shaking it off when you said you could tell something was wrong. Im mad that it is real– but Im mad because for some reason its easier than being sad. Which, if Im being honest, I am.
I havent a clue what the “right” or “easiest” way here is but I wish you well as you sit with it and make the hard choice.
You and the Binja are in my thoughts.
Christina’s last blog post..How to feed a Kid
Reading the post and then looking at the pictures, I’m reminded of something that is both telling and trivial…
Remember how in Trouveres, Adam had the biggest grin on his face, and he was so fun to watch because he had that big ol’ grin. Therefore, no one paid attention to what his feet were doing… you know you remember.
Maybe for Cheekers it will be like Trouveres. Looking at those pictures, its hard to imagine anyone at any age ever being able to focus on anything else but Binja’s infectious smile.
He is such a cute kid!
If he’s anything like his mom he’ll fight through this and be stronger for it!
Sota’s last blog post..Apple Anouncement Over Shadowed
That last picture looks like he’s thinking “You know I’m hot… you know you want some, beeatch.”
I don’t have any words of wisdom about what you guys are dealing with, but I do know that little dude is lucky to have such loving, caring parents and that alone will make him unique as too many kids these days aren’t so fortunate.
Now when can I see that little dude again so I can pinch his pudgy little thighs???
((((((((Sarah, Bryan and the Binjster)))))))
All I can tell you is go with your gut. There is no perfect answer, goddammit.
On another note, is that last picture post throw up? Still adorable, don’t get me wrong.
BWAHAHAHA. No, not vomit. We were driving to Atlanta and to keep him occupied, I gave him a Gerber Graduate cookie. Which I thought was occupying him because he was EATING it, not because he was redecorating the backseat with it. WRONG.
Sarah Lena’s last blog post..Just a Quick Update
This made me tear up in a big way. I’ve loved reading your blog (just found it not too long ago) and I hadn’t gotten into the archives enough to see that this was happening. Big hugs to Binja – I know that you will do what’s best for him, even if it’s unclear what that is right now.
We’re dealing with some small issues with my daughter right now too, and it’s comforting to read about others having the same feelings.
bessie.viola’s last blog post..Death of a Watermelon (or, more words than one should ever type about a WATERMELON, for the love).
Sarah, he is so adorable. And nothing if not resilient. He gets that from you.
Michelle’s last blog post..Feast