Dear Tattered Angel,
Let us start by explaining it is not uncommon in our house when something is broken, like a small colorful toy, for the task of breaking the tragic news to an already heartbroken child that the toy they have loved and cherished for the past little while can not be fixed and must be thrown away. Guaranteed to follow this breaking news is a waterfall of tears, combined with repeated pleads from our tender daughter for dad to undo what has been done. Over and over again you plead, "fix it daddy, fix it" With the stage set, our story begins with us setting at home struggling to eliminate the scent from your cast as it permeates the air in our downstairs family room. Peeling off the layers of moleskin that protects the edges of your cast now saturated with sweat and urine, using a hairdryer to evaporate the moisture from the lining surrounding your skin in a moment of frustration I jokingly glaze at my daughter exclaiming "broken". Barely noticeable, the smile slips from your cheeks, replaced with a look of concern as you declare, "daddy, don't throw me away! I not broken! The doctors fix my leg!" Struggling to regain my ground, I quickly break the tension with a smile with a small laugh proclaiming, "Sweetie, your not broken. Daddy wouldn't throw you away!" Reassured, we shared a laugh and preceded to re-enact the moment in light hearted jest again and again.
Let us start by explaining it is not uncommon in our house when something is broken, like a small colorful toy, for the task of breaking the tragic news to an already heartbroken child that the toy they have loved and cherished for the past little while can not be fixed and must be thrown away. Guaranteed to follow this breaking news is a waterfall of tears, combined with repeated pleads from our tender daughter for dad to undo what has been done. Over and over again you plead, "fix it daddy, fix it" With the stage set, our story begins with us setting at home struggling to eliminate the scent from your cast as it permeates the air in our downstairs family room. Peeling off the layers of moleskin that protects the edges of your cast now saturated with sweat and urine, using a hairdryer to evaporate the moisture from the lining surrounding your skin in a moment of frustration I jokingly glaze at my daughter exclaiming "broken". Barely noticeable, the smile slips from your cheeks, replaced with a look of concern as you declare, "daddy, don't throw me away! I not broken! The doctors fix my leg!" Struggling to regain my ground, I quickly break the tension with a smile with a small laugh proclaiming, "Sweetie, your not broken. Daddy wouldn't throw you away!" Reassured, we shared a laugh and preceded to re-enact the moment in light hearted jest again and again.
2 comments:
Such a little sweetie. Very cute how she says the doctors fixed her leg x
We're just about to embark on our own hip journey with two of our triplets. They are 3 and half now and have only just been diagnosed. One has bilateral DDH, and the other unilateral.
I'm following your blog closely to hopefully, prepare myself for things to come.
I hope the rest of your journey is as uneventful as possible, with a positive outcome.
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