Amazing Grace ... Again

I have now come to the point where, a few years ago, it was just an idea. A goal. Something that would happen ... someday ... in the far off future ... but there was way too much to deal with in the meantime to even think about that.

But now ... we're there.
Almost.

For the first time in four years, we were given permission to see that very small light at the end of the clubfoot tunnel.

My dad accompanied the kids and me on the long trek to the Commonwealth of Brotherly Love. I had my fears going on into it, but that's my job. I'm the mom, I'm the one with her eyes glued to that little foot day in and day out. I decided to go with my gut, to just sit back and not say anything ... let Dr. Wonder see what he's going to see.

The trip down was effortless (a big surprise!), and the wait was only about an hour and change (another big surprise!). Amazing. Grace found a little girl around her age -- bossy as "all get out," but Grace would just give her a look and say "no, thanks" to whatever she was being commanded to do. Aidan teamed up with the girl's older brother -- considerably older than Aidan, but when there's a DS involved, age simply does not matter. With the kids occupied, my dad read and dozed, and I finished my novel. Not a bad way to spend the morning.

We waited a bit longer in the exam room, but we're used to that. We made up games to play, while Grace flirted with the cute interns roaming the hallway. Gracious guys ... they flirted right back. And then came Dr. Wonder, full of smiles, full of hope.

Two words wrap up his summation: "extremely pleased." After a few tests and lots of stretches, the news was terrific. Her dorsiflexion charted in at 20 degrees, far higher than I had thought possible. Fear #1 eradicated -- her Achilles tendon is not tightening up. Her heel is placed exactly where it should be, her active (or voluntary) range of motion was good. Then, instead of having her walk on her heels as in visits past, he had her walk on her toes instead. That surprised me ... and alarmed her ever-protective big brother. "OH NO!" he exclaimed to the doctor. "She can't walk on her toes! That's not good for her foot!" He got a big smile from the doctor, and a reassurance from me that a minute or two on her toes won't hurt her one bit. This "new" test showed him that her Achilles strength is excellent -- something I wasn't expecting. He said that some clubfoot kids with a tight or weak tendon either can't walk on their toes well, or they have to bend their knees to get that momentum going. Not Grace ... strong as the proverbial ox.

We don't have to return for another six months, instead of the usual 3-month pilgrimage. The woman in Orthotics was a bit stunned by that news -- "Wow," she said. "Grace must be doing amazingly well. He doesn't let go of his kids easily." She was measured for a new Mitchell brace, and ... drum roll ... we can ditch the UCBL! She had outgrown it and we haven't been using it all, and clearly it hasn't made much of a difference. We talked a bit about her metatarsus adductus ("MA") which, to me, is rather pronounced. He did agree that it certainly is visible, but he pointed out a few things which I hadn't noticed before. When her foot is relaxed, its shape is absolutely perfect. You could never tell it was a clubfoot. When stands, however, the distributed weight sort of "flattens" her foot, as it should, and that's when you can see the curvature. However, he pointed out, it's really only obvious with her big toe. Sure enough -- that big toe points inward to 11:00, but the rest of the forefoot is actually quite straight. But because the big toe is so prominent, and because of the strange direction it's pointing, it looks a bit worse than it really is. When she walks, her gait is perfectly normal. I asked if there was a remedy for that and he said in bad cases, they will cut the muscle (ugh!) but Grace is nowhere near in need of that. In short, no worries.

And then came the big ringer, those words that we knew we would hear ... at some point ... some day ... a long, long time away ... Words that, today, were finally spoken; words that ushered in that first glimpse of faint light at the end of the clubfoot tunnel:

"When she reaches her 5th birthday," he said with a big smile, "she can stop wearing her brace."

When Grace was born, and when we first laid eyes on that tiny, twisted, unfortunate foot, one of my first conscious thoughts was, "I can't wait for the day when it's all over." When she screamed on the exam table, her tiny foot painfully wrenched outward and wrapped up in its first of many casts, my first thought was, "I can't wait until we are done with all of this." When we strapped on her first pair of heavy, hated shoes, my first thought was, "I can't wait until she never has to wear these things again." And today, for the first time, I heard that our wait is almost over. My breath caught; my eyes popped. I wasn't expecting that pronouncement at all. She can ... what? Stop? Stop?!

And yet, if there are any Clubfoot Moms reading this post, I know you're smiling ... for you know that any Clubfoot Mom who has come this far (and especially one who is dealing with a "difficult" case) will accept this kind of news with a mixed cocktail of joy and caution. You want to believe it; you want to believe that the problems are over. Yet when the news you so longed for finally comes ... you're hesitant to fully embrace it. The Ponseti school is now saying that "normal," easy clubfoot kids should end at 5 ... but Grace is now in the higher risk category because of her nasty relapse. That means she should probably wear the brace at least until she's 6. And yet ...

And yet. It's a year away. When Grace turns 5 then we'll make the decision. But right now I will revel in the good news, in her continued progress, in God's great care for my sweet little girl. And I will rejoice in that small, faint light now peeking around the corner ...