Clubfoot

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Clubfoot stinks.  Seriously.  Stinks.  And not because I have to put a brace on my child every night (that does get a little old when you are fighting a tired baby) but because of the foot sweat.  All the clubfoot mamas, can I get an amen?  AMEN!  Wearing socks and boots for 12 hours a day will do that to you I guess.

It was World Clubfoot Day on Tuesday.  I am not sure what that really means honestly.  Maybe that first-world kids get treatment (which is fairly simple) but kids in countries with poor health care or no access to health care don’t.  No matter what, my heart goes out to children – sick or healthy.  And the thought of just one child without the ability to either walk or walk well tears up my mama heart.  I am not sure where this is going but be thankful for doctors and treatments and health care (whatever your stance is on it) because we have it pretty darn good.  Pretty. Darn. Good.

Anyway, I got a little nostalgic with moving and someone wishing me Happy World Clubfoot Day, so I found my old clubfoot stuff.  Boy has it come along way!

 

1986 - Little Karlee

1986 – Little Karlee, plaid couch and all.

Baby casts.

My very own baby casts.

Baby braces.  I can't imagine Garrison sporting these bad boys.

Baby clubfoot braces. I can’t imagine Garrison sporting these bad boys.

My very own little stinky footed boy.

My very own little stinky footed boy.

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