Surviving Life with a Toddler in a Spica Cast

There’s an old saying, “You are only as happy as your least happy child”. I’m sorry to say I learned that the hard way these past few weeks.

Four weeks ago, my family’s life got flipped upside down by a freak accident. My almost-three-year-old son, Jackson, was playing with my husband on our bed, jumping around and being silly. Pretty much exactly the same stuff he does much every day. But on this day, a normal Sunday afternoon, something went wrong. My son landed wrong and twisted his left leg, breaking his femur. I was in another room, listening as they wrestled around and Jackson shrieked with laughter. But then…. I heard my husband yell, “Betsy! Oh no…” and a split second later, the screaming, agonizing cry of my little boy. That is a moment I hope I never relive the rest of my life.

Without knowing any details yet, I knew it was bad by the way my husband yelled for me. When I ran into the room, Jackson was hysterical, crying and shaking and unable to talk. We woke up our three-month-old daughter, put everyone in the car, and raced off to Urgent Care. On the way, my husband told me, “I heard something pop”, and I knew something really bad had happened. The next 24 hours were literally the worst moments I’ve had as a parent – from the x-rays to the operation to repair his leg to seeing my son in pain – I wouldn’t wish those things on anyone. After my son came out of the operating room around midnight, I saw him for the first time in what we called his “magic pants” – a hip spica cast that extended from his chest down to his ankle on one leg, and down to his knee on the other. This type of cast is used to prevent the hips and legs from moving – meaning, for the next 5+ weeks, my son would be unable to walk or even sit in a chair. He was basically in a vertical, claustrophobic looking fiberglass suit. Even when the doctor had explained what a “spica cast” was, there was no way I could be prepared to see my son in what looked like a full body cast. And there was certainly no way to prepare for the emotional toll it would take on all of us.

It was devastating. My son, normally one of the most active, athletic kids I know, was basically immobile for at least 5 weeks. And at 2 years old, he didn’t really understand what had happened or why he couldn’t move freely anymore. That first night was a nightmare. He woke up regularly screaming for me to help, to take his “pants” off, that his leg was “stuck”. He was still in pain, and due to the very strong pain medicine he was given, he was extremely sleepy, grumpy and miserable. And so was I.

I’m not proud to admit it, but I basically had a meltdown. Seeing my son in pain, feeling so helpless to make him feel better, and feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of caring for him in his cast, while also tending to a newborn at home, literally broke me. I cried more in that first week than I probably have in the first 2 and a half years of his life. Every time we’d go for a walk outside and he’d ask to go to the park, or play basketball, I cried. When we would hit a bump on the sidewalk and he’d yell out in pain, I cried. When I woke in the morning to his screaming, I cried. Those first few days I found it damn near impossible to look at the bright side. But I am my mother’s daughter, and now, 4 weeks into this experience, I feel like I can look back and realize there were some blessings along the way. Here are a few of the “bright sides” I’ve found…

The kindness of friends, neighbors and strangers…

From the moment word got around that my son had broken his leg, people began to reach out to us. This meant so much to our family, and greatly lifted our spirits. Friends brought by some of Jackson’s favorite things (Candles! Balloons!) and meals for our family. Others sent care packages of toys that would be easy for him to play with while lying on the couch. And a wonderful woman at Ivy Rose Spica Chairs made him an airplane chair. (See my review Here). We received cards with stickers inside, text messages of encouragement, video messages to make Jackson smile and visits from friends and family. I hate the reason behind all this kindness, but I love that people were so caring and thoughtful. This was one of those times that we truly needed a village to help us…and they did!

Slowing down…

I’m not one to sit around the house normally. I plan our lives pretty full and this fall was no exception. We had swim classes, playgroups and preschool lined up for Jackson. I had plans to take Chemistry, exclusively pump for my newborn daughter and complete observation hours for my degree. Let’s just say….everything changed that day. I literally quit breastfeeding and pumping the day Jackson broke his leg. It’s something I feel tremendously guilty about, but I just could not do it. Preschool got pushed back until at least November, and swim lessons and playgroups were cancelled. We have spent so much time at home these last few weeks that I can hardly remember what it’s like to leave the house, or what my normal life is like. It’s been a change, but it hasn’t been the terrible nightmare I was expecting. We have gotten creative – playing balloon baseball with a pool noodle, and knocking over paper cups with plastic balls. We’ve had (very gentle!) tickle fights. We’ve made up silly jokes and read tons of library books. And yes, we watch a LOT of movies and Daniel Tiger.

Here are some good activities to stay busy:

Skoolzy Rainbow Counting Bears with Matching Sorting Cups

ALEX Discover Button Art

Melissa & Doug: Lace & Trace Activity Set

Melissa & Doug: Scissors Skills Activity Pad

Do A Dot Art! 6 Pack

Quality Time…

We are normally very busy, so when I’m home with the kids, a lot of the time is spent getting stuff done around the house. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping. I have felt for awhile, long before Jackson broke his leg, that I needed to try to make more quality time for us. Time where I actually sit down on the floor and build Lego towers, or let Jackson make me pretend lunches with his play food. I do these things when I can, but it never feels like I do it enough. This experience has forced me to slow down and connect with Jackson. He needs a lot of attention – basically every second he is awake – and I am giving it to him. There are a lot of days I don’t shower or put makeup on. There is usually a stack of dirty dishes in the sink. We are eating more junk food than normal – takeout or fast food. But I’m finding that sometimes it’s ok to cut corners on those things when it means I am able to give my kids a little extra time or attention. Despite the limitations of Jackson’s cast, we have found lots of ways to have fun together, and plenty of time to enjoy new things.

Empowerment…

Four weeks ago I sobbed to my mom saying, “I can’t do this. I can’t.” At that point, Jackson was hysterical pretty much every waking moment, and it was mentally and emotionally draining. On top of that, we were learning to care for his cast – making sure it didn’t get wet or dirty – and trying to manage his pain with 3 different medications. All of this on top of still adjusting to having a newborn, and I just felt like it was going to be an impossible task. Somehow, with the help of my friends and family, we have made it this far. We have become accustomed to using three diapers tucked into his cast to prevent his cast from getting wet. We have adjusted to carrying him around the house. We have found ways to take walks (he fits in our double Bob!) and even a way to enjoy the playground (handicapped swings!). Despite feeling like I wasn’t “mom enough” to handle this crisis, I did. Most days feel like years, and many still have tears. But I’m doing it and that’s pretty empowering.

As I near the end of this season in my life, I am so grateful that it wasn’t anything worse. Jackson’s leg will heal, and so will our hearts. It was scary, and traumatic, and I wish it hadn’t happened. But since it did, I am choosing to believe it happened for a reason and that maybe there were lessons to be learned along the way. We have all had to adapt to this “temporary normal” and there are things we will carry with us even after the cast comes off.

If you have any questions about Spica Casts or survival tips for kids with Spica Casts, please let me know.

Here’s wishing everyone a SAFE and wonderful fall!