I am a Boy. I like to run. My name is Brady.

Brady drew this on his “Doodle Pad” a little while back and it made me smile.  It took me back to February 10, 2005; the day we had been praying about for years.  We had gone in for Emily’s 37 week check-up the day before, only to be told that we would be checking into the hospital that night due to a high blood-pressure reading.  Evidently, we were setting an appointment to have a baby – now that is the way we do things around here J

A little background on Emily’s doctor…  Emily had been seeing a doctor that she really liked but due to a change with our insurance we had to seek out a replacement.  I wish we would have looked a little harder.  The new doctor was extremely tough on Emily during the pregnancy when Emily would gain more weight than the doctor thought was allowable.  Later, when Emily was pregnant with Alex, it was discovered that she had Gestational Diabetes and had to adhere to a strict diet.  I contend that this doctor missed the diagnosis on Emily for this first pregnancy but I guess that is beside the point. 

The doctor simply had no compassion for the patient and we would find out later had absolutely no bedside manner either.  I didn’t really care for her from the first time I met her.  Due to her facial profile and hairstyle, she always reminded me of Big Bird.  I know that is not nice to say, and it reminds me of a line that Larry the Cable Guy uses when he tells a joke that is in poor taste.  He says a little prayer that goes like this, “Lord, forgive me for saying that, and please be with the starving pigmies in New Guinea.”  For some weird reason, that always makes me laugh. 

We checked into the hospital and got all settled in to our room.  As nice as a hospital room can be, I can never get comfortable because of the simple fact that at some  point in time there has been a massive amount of bodily fluids sprayed all over that place.  The nurse showed me the “bed” I would get to use that night.  It was actually a chair, and it was extremely uncomforta….. wait, teaching moment:  Brady and Alex, when you read this I need you to pick up on the fact that your dad is teetering on the ledge of looking like an insanely ridiculous jerk.  After what I saw your mom go through having the two of you and your sister, I guess sleeping on a “bedair” isn’t so bad.  (between you and me, though – it was horrible).

The waiting game lasted until the middle of the next morning when Big Bird and the nurses came in to tell us it was “that time”.  Here we go – the moment we had been waiting for.  We had decided not to find out ahead of time if we were having a boy or a girl so we could enjoy that surprise when the doctor announces, “Congratulations, it’s a _____!”   We didn’t exactly get that moment from Big Bird.  Here is what we got after the endurance and pushing to finally meet our baby:  “Well, it’s a boy and he has a club foot”.  Ok – I know she said a boy but I am not sure what that last part meant but we were having a boy!  It was incredible to see him get placed in Emily’s arms.  This was our new little guy and we were complete.  Brady Clay was here and the world was getting a wonderful addition added to it.

The next morning, our Pediatrician came for a visit to our room and explained the club foot situation.  Brady’s right foot was turned in at a complete 90 degree angle.  We were scheduled to see an Orthopedic specialist in two days to see what was needed to be done to correct it.  With all the complications that could come at childbirth, this was pretty minor, but again, this is our son and the obvious concerns crept into my mind:  Will he be in pain, will he be able to run and play with other kids, can he play sports, etc.  We met with the specialist and the plan was made to attempt a series of castings to try and stretch it out to allow it to self-correct. 

Brady got his first cast at 4 days old.  We proceeded to go through the ritual of putting on a cast and cutting it off 1-2 weeks later (due to the rapid growth at that age).  Brady hated getting hair cuts during the first couple of years because the clippers sounded like the saw that was used to cut off his casts.  His little face would turn so red while he cried during the straightening of his foot while the casts were applied.  We went through this for a year and a half with very little success. 

During this time, we moved to Nashville.  We saw a new doctor at Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital who finally recommended surgery.  This was great news to us since now we felt we were actually taking action to correct the problem head-on.  Brady’s ligaments were lengthened  to allow for growth and the straightening of his foot.  A full leg cast was then applied to be worn for 6 weeks.  During this six week period, Alex was to be born.  We were praying they got off to a good start together or Brady had himself a built-in weapon on that leg that little Alex would not be able to use any baby Matrix moves to avoid impact.  Brady actually learned to walk with that cast on.  It was sweet, yet sad at the same time to see our little peg-leg pirate walking around with the natural limp that the cast caused.  We had concerns that walking like that would cause some hip problems but we couldn’t keep him down and, to be honest, we didn’t want to.

Obviously, we were extremely relieved to finally get that cast cut off and see our little dude’s “new foot”.  In the months that followed, Brady showed great improvement in his balance and ability to walk, run, and play.  Jumping took quite a bit of time as he adjusted to getting strength and confidence in that right leg, but he eventually got it.  Since he went through the majority of the first two years of his life in a cast, he did always seem to be a little hesitant to try anything new, but this slowly got better as well over time.  I don’t know if his personality was shaped from this experience or not, but Brady is one of the most thoughtful and kind little guys that I know of.  I realize I am his dad, and to say this probably sounds a little slanted, but slanted or not, it is the truth.   He represents our family well and I am more proud of him than he will ever know.

I really don’t know if he remembers much about the experience.  He never really asks about it except for when he mentions his scar.  Watching him run and play soccer makes me smile and gives me the occasional flashback to those two years and how far he has come.  It also makes me thankful to God for allowing him to be born in a day and time where a club foot can be corrected.  Our family has been taken care of far beyond what we “deserve”.  This brings me back to what he wrote on that Doodle Pad (or “draw” as we call it).  His little hand scrawled out the following inscription while his eyes focused on the task with his tongue sticking out in full-blown 6 year old concentration:   “I am a boy.  I like to run.  My name is Brady.” That is how he should have been announced to the world.  This is me doing my part to make that happen :)

Oh, and by the way, a message to that pitiful doctor that made my wife’s first pregnancy a little less enjoyable than it should have been:  “Doc, my boy can run and I am fairly confident that you still look like Big Bird.”  Lord I apologize for saying that, and please be with those pigmies in New Guinea.