Oliver's First Casting

Oliver was born on Tuesday, August 26, 2008 at 5:17 pm.  His birth was quite an experience in itself, as I was induced almost 3 weeks before my due date for PIH (pregnancy induced hypertension).  I have never felt so in love as when Dr. Davis laid that precious little baby boy on my chest.

I remember that the nurses asked us shortly after he was born if we knew about his feet.  We told them we did, and I remember my heart breaking just a little bit that God had not miraculously straightened his feet already.  I wasn't so much upset as I was more just resigning to the fact that we would indeed be going through all the treatments we had learned about.  I remember silently asking God, "Why didn't you answer my prayers?" and in that moment was one of the only times I have very clearly felt God answer my question so immediately.  It was like in my mind I heard, "Be still, new mother.  I have answered them, just not as you have expected."  I'll never forget that.  I looked around, almost expecting that someone else had heard it as well.  God spoke directly to my heart in that moment and gave me a peace about the upcoming months.

Oliver in the hospital bassinet. My perfect, precious baby.

Our first week with Oliver was wonderful.  I spent a lot of time just staring at his feet, thinking about how perfect they looked to me despite knowing that, actually, they weren't.  They would need to be changed, to be fixed.  That's hard for a new mother to go through.  Everyone feels like their baby is just perfect, and to know that they have to be fixed is heart breaking.  I remember telling Jay that a part of me (the emotional, illogical, newly postpartum mama part) didn't want Oliver to go through the castings because I didn't want him changed.  He was my perfect, precious little baby and I didn't want them changing anything about him.  But I knew that for him to have the best quality of life, this is what needed to be done.  Without treatments, he would never really be able to walk.  That's such a horrible realization.

Oliver was 8 days old when he had his first casts put on.  Jay was working second shift then, and had just gone back to work after being off for a week with us.  The night before Oliver's first casting was extremely hard.  I remember holding him and just sobbing because I was so scared of what the next day would bring.  During our prenatal appt with Dr. Cummiskey, our orthopedic doctor, he had told us as much as he could about what to expect, but there's really no way to prepare yourself for your newborn to be put in full leg casts.  I wondered how I would possibly give him a bath.  How I would hold him on my chest when he couldn't curl up on me any more the way babies like to sleep.  I put him in several different footy PJ sleepers that evening just because I didn't know if he'd ever really be able to wear them again.  I prayed over my baby boy that he wouldn't be in too much pain.  I felt so sick to my stomach the whole evening, and didn't sleep much that night.  Before bed I sent this email to a friend...

"Oliver's appt is at 11 Wednesday morning with the foot specialist..

.The doctor is able to do the procedure there in his office.  I'm just so nervous and upset about it.  I can't believe my little baby has to have casts on his legs.  I know it'll be ok, and don't get me wrong I'm thankful that this is the worst we have to deal with.  But its still hard, and breaks my heart.  I've been laying here on the floor with him and just want to cry as he kicks his legs because I know tomorrow he won't be able to do that, and he won't understand why.  I've been cuddling him all night and just feeling his little legs and feet.  Ugh, this is killing me."

Oliver the night before his first casting.

 

I'm so thankful that I took lots of pictures of Oliver's feet before and after each casting.  Especially the first one. Its hard to believe what his little feet looked like then, and how quickly they changed. He was so tiny, and those casts looked so big.

On our way to his first appointment. His orthopedic doctor was only about 30 minutes away.

The first casting appointment was by far the hardest. We sat in the waiting room, and I held Oliver, dreading our name being called.  I wanted it over with, and I didn't want it to begin, all at the same time.

I remember purposely holding him on my chest like this, as I knew I wouldn't be able to very easily after his casts were on.

The first casting was by far the worst.  Its hard to even think about.  Dr. Cummiskey came in and said that Oliver's feet were very typical looking for bilateral clubfoot.  Oliver laid on the doctor's table with Dr. Cummiskey on his stool in front of him.  I stood to his side, leaning over Oliver and talking to him.  Jay stood behind me, and rubbed my back.  The doctor later told us he would never forget the way our family interacted during these appointments...Jay supporting me, me supporting Oliver.  When Dr. Cummiskey took Oliver's foot and turned it before setting that first cast...oh my gosh. I thought I was going to vomit and pass out all at the same time.  It was horrific.  I couldn't believe a doctor could turn a baby's foot like that without breaking it.  Oliver's screams from that pain haunted me.  The way he grabbed at me, like he was begging me to rescue him from the pain...it wasn't long before I couldn't tell anymore if it was his tears or mine on his face.  It seemed to take forever but it wasn't long before they were ready for the second foot.  I just kept telling Oliver over and over that it is ok, Mommy is here, it'll be over soon, that I love him.  I would remind him to take a breath, because he was just red and silent crying after awhile, as if he could possibly understand what I was saying.

It was finally over and my little boy's legs were completely covered in plaster.  The nurse picked him up and kissed him and handed him to me, saying to take our time and cuddle him before putting him back in his carseat. I felt like my heart was in a million pieces. Nurse Deb told us the proper dosage for Tylenol that we could give him (which, for an 8 day old, is next to nothing) to help ease the pain. She even told us that most infants have not yet developed the ability to cry tears, but that Oliver was in a lot of pain and to expect a possibly rough night.  When people tell me that at least Oliver's treatment was done as a newborn and he won't ever remember it, I wish they could possibly understand what we went through that first casting appointment.  He may never remember, but I absolutely will never forget.  His pain was very real, and very difficult to experience.  For everyone.

If I remember correctly, these first casts weighed about half a pound total.  Seems like such a small amount, but he felt so much heavier with these on.

Our first night was tough.  We spent most of the time in bed cuddling.  I cried, a lot.  It seemed so unfair that our baby was going through this.  I just wanted to cuddle him and it was so awkward.  He would wake up screaming and I felt so helpless. I sent this message to some friends later that night:

"They  [the casts] cover most of his feet and legs.  He feels so heavy now.  He sleeps for a bit and then wakes up crying inconsolably.  Nothing I do can help he is in pain and doesn't know why.  We were able to give him a little bit of baby tylenol so i'm hoping that kicks in soon.  He cried his first real tears today when he was crying at the dr.  Broke my heart. Jay could barely stand to leave for work.  Its going to be a long night."

Until that night, Oliver had slept some in a bassinet by our bed, and we had spent many nights in the recliner holding him.  We hadn't really settled on the idea of bedsharing just yet, but neither Jay or I wanted him in his crib in his room.  That night when Jay got home from work, I was laying in bed with him and just said, "Please...is it ok if he sleeps here with us tonight? He's in so much pain."  Of course Jay didn't mind, and for the next 2.5 years Oliver slept with us. :)  We couldn't stand the thought of him waking up in pain by himself.  We used to get a lot of grief from people about bedsharing and I would just say, "You don't understand what we've been through. He needs to be close to us." 

When I think of baby Max (due this September) and his clubfoot, it is the first casting that makes me the most upset.  Thinking of the pain Oliver went through is enough to bring me to tears in an instant, and it's devastating to know that we will go through this again with another child.  I know it gets better and the end result is so worth it.  But I'm basically being asked to relive the worst day of my life.  I'm still searching for some peace with the whole thing.  I'm getting there, and God is carrying me when I don't feel like I can carry myself.