Well, it seems God has made up His mind.
Monday afternoon, the little man and I headed to the cranio-facial surgeon. He pulled out his Baby Jesus routine and was a total charmer the whole time, even though he didn't take an afternoon nap. I mean, he's just so dreamy.
In the waiting room, there were three other babies all waiting to see the same doctor for the same reason. Ave was sitting in my lap, really showing off his Baby Boot Camp skills, while the other babies sat snug in their car seats. One of the other mom's said, "Wow, he's sitting up really well. How old is he?"
I replied (very humbly, of course), "Oh, he's only 5 months."
The panty hose scan turned out to be a breeze: it ended up being more doo-rag than ski-mask. He looked like a little Snoop Dog. I asked the tech if I could take a picture, and she just lowered her eyebrows at me. She must not be a mother.
The doctor came in and said, "Well, he definitely needs a helmet."
Alright. We're ok. I was ready for this.
" He will probably need to wear it for 23 hours a day, for four to six months, starting next week."
What the $#*%@(^#.
What's really lame about the whole thing is that usually we would get to pick out a sweet pattern for his helmet, like racing stripes or flames or spaceships. Since Ave has a shunt, his helmet has to be clear to make sure there isn't too much pressure on his shunt. The nurse tried to console me by saying, "Well, you could put some stickers on the front." Not helping here, lady.
We are still waiting on our insurance company to process all the paperwork, but so far it looks like the odds are really in our favor for his helmet being covered. For one, insurance usually requires a baby to have 8 weeks of physical therapy to try to correct the plagiocephaly before trying the helmet, and Ave has already completed that. Secondly, the measurements from the scan were all on the higher end of normal or in the extremes; meaning that the helmet is definitely medically necessary. Fingers crossed.
So, for now, it looks like God has chosen Door #3: the babe has a bad enough case of hacky sack head that insurance is probably going to cover most, if not all, of the cost. We pick up his fancy new gear next Wednesday, and then we will be going back every 2 weeks for adjustments.
99.9% of the day I'm doing just fine with it. I know it is temporary, I know it will be such a blessing in the long run, I know this is just another perfectly tailored answer to prayer. The other .1% of the day I can't believe that this beautiful baby is going to have a plastic helmet on for his first Thanksgiving and Christmas, and that he won't be able to wear the hats I knit him for this winter. Meaningless stuff in the long run, but in the moment it just seems like the weight of the world.
I find myself holding Avram a little more this week; sneaking in during his naps just to pick him up, snuggle him, and cover his head in kisses.