To infinity and beyond!

Buzz Lightyear may or not be modeling the latest in baby helmets. I don't think astronauts call their little hats "helmets," in fact, I doubt they're called "little hats," either. I need to do some research on this. You know, actually, having done some google research just now, they are in fact called astronaut space helmets.

All that to say, Baby got fitted for a helmet yesterday. He has what's scarily called "positional plagiocephaly." He has a mixture of brachiocephaly (back of the head is flat straight across, which his really isn't) and another kind that I'll affectionately call parallelogram-head. By the way, if you want to hear about more scary sounding medical words, your child likely has normocephaly! But don't freak out, it just means their head is totally normal. Anything with "cephaly" sounds frightening, I think.

So, off we went to the helmet lady. (The helmets are actually called a cranial band.) After lots and lots of measurements and questions, the official verdict was, "It's flat." Um, yeah, I did notice that. The doctor was very nice, but the experience did feel a little humiliating.

As parents, don't we feel responsible for everything our child experiences? Kelly thinks this is her fault because of how she carried him. I think it's mine for not being more rigorous with tummy time and sleep positioning. Maybe she and I could agree to blame each other to take some pressure off ourselves. Maybe that's not such a good idea. The deal is, his head has a flat spot. It just does.



Anyway, then the doctor put a very funny looking do-rag on him, cut ear-holes through, and tied it in the front of his head like a bonnet. A velcro head-band went under his chin and over the top of his head and she used a laser to make a computer-generated model of his noggin. He did not like the do-rag, but the scanning involved a cool light-up toy that he got to look at and try to eat. I certainly do not know what that baby is looking at, because ours didn't sit that still for sure.

So, the helmet will be ready in two weeks, and we'll work up to having him wear it 23 hours a day. We'll go for adjustments every two weeks and see what happens. I didn't get an estimate on how long he'll have to wear it. I'll say four to six months, since I'm a doctor and all. Since Randy was not there I had to pick the design for the little hat. I decided to forego the camoflage one for one with planets and stars. This is a theme for this guy since he came home from the hospital in a similar-looking outfit. Ergo, the Buzz Lightyear reference.

We're not thrilled about this. People keep telling me, "He'll look so cute in it!" and of course he will. But he looks so cute without it! Alas, if this is the most serious medical intervention he will ever need, we'll take it. Even if it isn't, it'll all work out for God's glory somehow.

Romans 8:28 "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called accoring to His purpose."