DDH: before the spica cast…

Dear BB,

The last few weeks have flown by and suddenly your operation is less than a breath away. The doctors have told me you should be in theatre for four to five hours but have warned it will feel like eternity, I remember last time, I know it will taste like forever.

You won’t remember being in a spica cast, you won’t remember three months of your life being tied down. This helps slightly but still my heart breaks a little when I think of you waking up post op finding your legs restricted and your mobility gone.

You have really just learnt to walk, and you spend your days wobbling from room to room. Your current love is keys, not those rubbish plastic ones which couldn’t open a tent, but ones that really open doors and cars. It is driving your daddy wild because you take them and hide them and since you can’t speak you can never bloody tell us where they are.

I’m sorry my lovely, somewhere along the way I grew you a little bit wrong. I’m sorry that you have to pay the price. If I could take your place I would do it in a heartbeat.

I know you will shame me, I will be a wreck huddled in the corner, red faced and snotty. You will emerge triumphant, ready to take on the world in your cast, ready to learn how to live (for a short time) without legs.

When you were born I always knew you were precious; my last child, created by love and grown by adoration.

You walked without a hip joint, you speak without words, you are a beautiful inspiration and my little girl.

Love you,

Mummy

63 thoughts on “DDH: before the spica cast…”

  1. Pass the tissues, you’ve made me cry…again!

    She will be fine and this isn’t your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault, just a cruel twist of nature.

    Love to you both xxx

  2. Oh, good grief – welling up here. It’s not your fault, Jane. We’re all born a little bit less than perfect. When you’re a snivelling wreck, try and remember that we’re all hugging you.

  3. You saying I am less than perfect! 🙂 She is perfect, she is herself, and she is your BB. Do not even dare to blame yourself – these things happen (to me, too!) And they make us the people who we grow into. You don’t live to far from me so, be warned – I will hunt you down and pummell you with tissues and a bottle of your preferred alcohol. There is no-one to blame, and it is fixable – hard to go through, agreed, but you will both get through it. I will be thinking of you both and send huge hugs – this waiting bit is THE worst, for sure – and then BB starts the recovery journey. Much love, Annick x

  4. sniffling here too
    This is not your fault. She is a strong, wonderful babe, full of drive and personality. A cast won’t hold her back!
    Go, BB 🙂

    Warm thoughts for the journey x

  5. Lovely post, BB is lucky to have such a great Mummy and I think BB will make having a cast a little bit fun and some more good posts to come xxxxxx

  6. What a wonderful tribute for her to look back on when she’s older. It’s easy to take healthy children for granted. When my daughter has been in hospital it has made me realise how lucky I was to have her, a blessing I might not have appreciated quite so searingly had she been born physically ‘perfect’. Your little girl’s disability is a painful misfortune, but the very eloquent love and admiration that it has inspired from you has turned it into something more positive. I wish you both the very best of luck.

  7. Please don’t blame yourself for any of this, we are all, in our own ways, a little bit wonky, admittedly, some more so than others, but it is our little quirks which makes life so interesting.
    Having so recently been through all of this myself, I know exactly where you are coming from, but please be assured, that this time will pass more quickly than you could ever imagine, and you will all come out the other side a lot stronger, having been through this adventure together.
    My girls have now been cast free for longer than they had their casts on, and it really does seem a lifetime away. It’s taken a while and they’re still very wobbly, and need a lot of support, but their experiences have ultimately, made them stronger.
    All the best for the op, please keep us updated.

  8. You are one strong, brave, funny lady and you will get through this, you are a fighter and so is BB! I have so much admiration for you all and wish you the best of luck.
    My love to you all
    Rachel xxxxxxxx

  9. I will be thinking of you all tomorrow. I am only a phonecall away. The worst part was the initial shock when Erin came round. She was bewildered beyond belief and very frightened, but it passed after a few hours. It doesn’t get easier putting them under a GA but you know needs must. Hugs to you all. xxxx

  10. Thats was beautiful, I read it with tears in my eyes. There is nothing more beautiful than a mothers love for her child!

    BB was be just fine, she will bounce back! Thinking of you all x

  11. What a lovely post.

    All the best for you all tomorrow – as Emma says, the waiting is the worst part. When my eldest had his kidney taken out it was all I could do to not run a million miles away and bury my head in the sand…..you don’t want to leave the hospital (we were advised to go shopping WTF?!) but neither do you just want to sit and state at the walls. Take a book/laptop anything to try and distract you……..When my M came round from GA he was hyper (well more so than normal) for some reason and trying to do headstands on his bed…….kids are VERY resilient and be thankful she won’t remember.

    Will be thinking of you all xxxxxxx

  12. Wishing you and BB all the luck in the world with the op. am sure it will be scary but you will all be able to deal with it because you have such love between you all. Don’t blame yourself for this, it’s just one of those things and in time it’ll be a distant memory as she races into a bright future xxx

  13. I read this yesterday and didn’t know what to say but had to come back to comment. The feeling of hopelessness when you’re not in control of something like this is so so hard. But she will be fine – and how wonderful that we live in a part of the world where this type of thing can be fixed at all. Good luck to you all. Love and hugs. x

  14. Beautiful, beautiful letter. When BB reads it when she’s older, she laugh at you being worried about her. Brought tears to my eyes.

    Love & strength to you and BB,

    Xxx

  15. Awww bless. Lovely Mummy post. Don’t feel guilty because your little one has to have a hip spica. Each step on life’s path is a precious moment even if it’s a different one from where you have each stepped before. I trained as an orthopaedic nurse and looked after several babes with hip spicas. You will learn how amazingly resilient and brave your BB is, you will find out things you never knew and your family will grow even stronger.
    Will be sending healing energies to your family. x

  16. That’s so beautiful. Brought tears to my eyes. Sorry your little one has to endure surgery but dont blame yourself. Your unborn baby clearly felt nothing but love and adoration in utero. Giving her that, gave her the absolute best. X

  17. Please! Don’t do this to a heavily pregnant and highly emotional woman. I’m sat here a snivelling wreck!

    I didn’t realise little BB had an op – the holiday has taken me out the loop I’m sorry lovely.

    Big hugs to you and BB. Hope she’s back on her feet again very soon xx

  18. Hi
    I’ve never posted before but read your blog all the time and just wanted to wish you all lots of luck and get better wishes too

    Helen x

  19. We grow them all differently. Life would be boring if we didn’t, eh?! You’ll find the inner strength, and the time will hopefully fly by for you. Beautiful words, and thoughts – can only come from a loving mum x

Comments are closed.