Son Perfectos

They're perfect.

Those words were music to my ears on Monday afternoon as we stood in the doctor's office at the Baptist hospital in Asuncion. Looking at the x-rays of Bailey's hips that had just been taken down the hallway, the doctor's simple words dissolved all of our fears from the past ten months.

The full story starts just weeks after Bailey was born. During her first visit with a pediatrician (in California), he was doing all of the routine checks that are done during the baby well visits, and heard/felt a "click" in her hip joint as he rotated her hips in their socket. He briefly explained what could be wrong (Developmental Dysplasia of the Hip) and refered us to a pediatric orthopedist for further investigation. When we visited the specialist, she didn't seem overly concerned, but sent us to have an ultrasound of Bailey's hips just to double-check (especially since we were leaving the country and were unsure what healthcare would be like).

A week or so before leaving the country, we had the ultrasound done and Bailey was given a clean bill of health, with the caveat that she wasn't 100% in the clear yet, but would need to be closely watched, especially as she came close to walking age.

Our doctor here in Paraguay has been diligent to check her hips at every appointment. Trouble was, her hips couldn't make up their mind. One visit there would be a click on the left side, the next appointment, on the right, sometimes on both . . . none of us knew what to think. At her most recent appointment, as she stood on her own, "walking" around the chairs and pulling herself up on the doctor's desk drawers, Dr. Schmidt decided that we should look into the click further, one last time, before she was fully walking on her own.

Off to the Baptist hospital we went.

After answering some basic questions about Bailey's birth (normal or cesarean? normal), her food of choice (leche materna? si!), and when she started standing (en diciembre), he handed Bailey two tongue depressers to distract her from what he was doing, and proceeded to push her legs around to feel for the click. He, too, heard it, and, like all the doctors before, wasn't too concerned, but wanted to follow up.

Off to get an x-ray.

Bailey cried the whole time she was naked on the table, with the arm of the automated x-ray machine zooming overhead. I stood with my hands on her shoulders, singing to her while one of the technicians held her legs in position. While I sang I wondered why the tech was in full body armor and didn't offer me any protection against the x-rays, but I suppose now it's a mute point.

Within five minutes we had an envelope with two x-ray films tucked inside. One of her legs extended straight down and the other with her legs bent upward like a frog. I snuck a peek on our way back to the doctor's room, but I didn't know what I was looking for. Thankfully the doctor did know what to look for and quickly announced that all was well with Bailey's hips and she wasn't in need of therapy, braces, or any other horrible thing my mind had been concocting.

PRAISE GOD!