We returned home with our little princess and were instantly in love. I didn't think beyond the next cuddle, feeding session, or diaper change. The days flew by and we received our letter for our appointment. It was the day we were leaving for Ellie's first holiday to Wales, but again, I didn't give it much thought. Against my normal nature of researching everything, I hadn't even remotely looked at possible outcomes. After all, the doctor had said it was just a precaution.
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| Eleanor before the appointment looking grumpy |
Our appointment day arrived and we were trying to cram everything in - passport photos, mailing out her passport application, packing, haircuts, etc. We arrived just in time for our appointment and she had an ultrasound on both hips. She fussed a bit at first but then settled in and let them work. Two separate doctors looked at the ultrasound screen, chatting and making notes. I was so used to either seeing a baby (my Ellie!) or my ovaries on the screen that I couldn't follow what they were doing as squiggly lines and blobs appeared on the screen. I spoke softly with Ellie and rubbed her head, soothing her. When they finished, they faced Paul and I and told us that Eleanor's hip sockets were too shallow. This is a condition known as hip dysplasia (or developmental dysplasia of the hips, abbreviated as DDH) and only one baby out of a thousand has the condition and needs treatment. Unfortunately, Eleanor was one of these babies. Although they stress that this is nobody's fault, hip dysplasia usually results from a baby who is big, long and who was not able to move her legs enough in the womb to develop the hip socket. Other risk factors include having a history of DDH in the family and being a firstborn girl. Even with my gigantic bump, Eleanor was too confined to develop. The guilt began to settle in.
A bit in shock, we waited for our consultation with the physical therapist. I stupidly googled the condition and treatment. What followed was a flood of tears, not quite kept at bay. Although "easily" treated by a harness 98% of the time, the harness itself is not pleasant. It locks baby's legs into a wide froggy position and prevents them from straightening their legs at all to promote good hip position and to dig out the hip socket while it is still cartilage. We were called in and Eleanor was fitted with the harness. We were told that she was not to have it removed at all and that swimming and baths were out of the question for the duration of the 12 week treatment. I couldn't help it, I was absolutely in pieces. Our perfect little girl who loved to kick her legs and cycle and push and practice standing could no longer do so. The therapist was explaining how to change a diaper under the harness, how to give her a sponge bath by removing one strap at a time, what to do with the inevitable poo-splosion or throwing up episode. I tried to listen as I mourned the loss of my baby's soft, uninterrupted skin and tiny toes that were tucked away in the harness. Paul thankfully stayed sane and on top of things, asking questions and taking in the information liked rational parent. Eleanor, denied naps for the entire morning, was inconsolable. I tried to nurse her, but none of our usual positions worked. I was given small pamphlets explaining how I must be feeling (guilty, frustrated, angry - tick, tick, tick) and how to handle the harness for the next few months. We were told to call if we had any questions and bundled her into her car seat and headed home to finish packing before starting our trip. |
| Squashed in the carseat |
The next two days and nights were torture, holding our sweet girl as she screamed a high, terrible, panicked scream every time she realized she wasn't able to move her legs. Our little Wriggles, completely confined, and it was heartbreaking. We had never met this loud, frustrated, unhappy baby and we had no way to help her as she strained against the harness. I kept holding her and snuggling her, sobbing as I repeated, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" over and over again. We had been told she'd need 24-48 hours to adjust and that moment couldn't come soon enough. I barely slept in the hotel as she was only settled in the carrier and I didn't want to take her out. The car seat was also uncomfortable, as our 5-point harness dug into her legs. I sat in the back and sang to her and tried to keep her from screaming. Over a week later and she has calmed down to almost her normal self, with occasionally episodes of high pitched screaming as she tries to stretch as well as shorter naps resulting from when she tries to stretch her legs and can't. I still miss my sweet, easy, cuddly baby. But this isn't something we can change we are just taking it one day at a time.
Honestly, it's been the hardest part of parenting yet and I know we are just getting started. Someone once said that choosing to be a mother is to forever choose to have your heart walking around outside your body. Even this small blip makes me understand that quote in the most real way. While everyone says, 'She'll get used to it' and 'It could be worse' and 'it's only for a short time', I feel like I've been cheated. Cheated out of precious skin-to-skin contact, out of dressing her in the cute outfits I had just bought, out of tiny toes and out of normal, newborn pictures and cuddles. While these all may be small things, that doesn't make my feelings any less important or less real. No consoling words seem to help, and I can only hope that in 11 weeks time the harness can come off and no further treatment is needed.
Thanks Auntie Kristen for buying clothes especially made to fit over a harness!
I'm so sad that for the first time since meeting Eleanor, I am wishing for the days to speed by. Wishing away these precious days, and looking forward to the day when I can have my baby back. I want it to be 11 weeks from now and for her harness to be off. I want my lovely normal, soft, sweet girl.
