Twenty four hours ago, I was sitting here trying to figure out why I have this thing up and running. Topics were bouncing around my head and I was discarding them just as quickly as they came into focus.
I had thought about doing a parenting blog, as I’m home with Charlotte and have been for the vast majority of her life, but I don’t really do anything that would make me stand out from the crowd.
- I’m not particularly religious, and I will not impose my belief system on my daughter. She can make up her own mind on religion when she’s ready.
- I don’t home school. We read, play with Legos and My Little Pony, and watch Doc McStuffins and Peep and the Big Wide World. She goes to a morning preschool, and comes home for lunch and afternoons.
- I have clear feminist leanings on pretty much everything, but while I am cognizant of the power dynamic that is inherent through media and marketing, I pick and choose my battles when it comes to toys and clothes. I didn’t buy into the princess pink everything when I found out Charlotte was a she, but there are a few Disney princess things floating around, and she can identify Belle out of a lineup.
- Organic, vegan, whole food is good. It’s really good. One of the best birthday cakes I’ve ever had was this vegan chocolate concoction a friend made for me one year. That said, you can have my cheese and bacon when you pry it out of my cold, dead, artery-clogged hands.
So while Charlotte is amazing, my parenting is average.
I had no idea what should fill this blog.
Then everything changed.
“My butta hurts.”
Three words. Three words from a potty training three year old. Most parents, I assume, would think it was nothing but a bit of irritation from the training pants, or dirt or something that was caught in the underwear. I certainly did.
Then Charlotte put her hand flat on the top of her bottom, and my heart dropped.
She was born with a sacral dimple. She had a CT scan at three months old at the Children’s Hospital in Madera, CA, and they saw no signs of Spina Bifida or any other sort of defect. Keep it clean and keep an eye on it, they said. It should be fine.
So we did. And it was.
But in the 18 hours between “My butta hurts.” and the pediatrician’s office, things have gone weird.
The entire area around the dimple is red and infected. Antibiotics and steroid cream are on order at the pharmacy, waiting for clarification from the doctor so we can go pick them up. Once the swelling has gone down, the doctor will take another look.
It shouldn’t be hurting her like this, though. And this infection shouldn’t have sprouted up so fast.
And the little sacral dimple looks like it’s gotten deeper, rather than growing shallower as expected. And her tailbone feels a bit more pronounced than it has before. The doctor is worried that it might have progressed inward. That it might be affecting her spinal column.
That surgery may need to occur.
So much for not having a clue what to write about.