Shoes



Eliana loves shoes.  She was wearing these cute pink dress shoes when we met her.  She was very attached to them.  She still loves these shoes even though they no longer fit.  But not just these pink dress shoes, she just loves shoes, any shoes.  She loves to dress up and be fancy and try new shoes.




We had some used tennis shoes for her to wear when we came home.  They were functional but not very girly.  Once she outgrew them we needed to purchase a brand new pair for her.  That first trip to the shoe store will forever live in my heart's memory bank.  She was in love with all the shoes and so excited to have her foot measured and then to try shoes on.  Through our broken communication and sign language I understood that she thought we were just there to try on shoes... she was not expecting to take a pair home. When that reality unveiled itself to my little girls heart, she was beside herself with excitement.  We put the new shoes on so that she could wear them home and I swear she floated to the car.  She would then tell everyone we met, whether we knew them or not, that she had gotten new shoes.  Two months later the excitement over these shoes continues.

I suspected even before meeting Elie that she might need to wear orthotics to help her with walking.  After watching her walk, I couldn't wait to get her the therapy she needed to help her move easier.  And so when they suggested she needed an orthotic a month ago you would think that I would have been so happy.

She arrived for her therapy session in tall brown suede boots.  I asked, "She won't be able to wear these boots, will she?".  The therapist shook her head no.  And there it started to come again.  That horrible lump in my throat.  The one that I have gotten very good at holding back.  The one that I swear one day is going to come forward in the most gut wrenching sob when I least expect it.  But it held there and the water starting to gather in my eyes was quickly controlled.  No suede boots.  No princess dress shoes.  No sparkley flip flops.

Two weeks ago she was measured for her orthotic at her therapy appointment.  She only needs it for one side.  One side has the orthotic, the other side does not.  So not just shoes that will fit her orthotic, but we would need shoes in two different sizes.

Last week we brought the orthotic home.  Faith was sick but I triaged the situation and decided that I needed to get Elie into that orthotic as soon as possible to start weaning her into it.  I also wanted to stay with the momentum from the office....she was very excited about buying a new pair of shoes.  We quickly discovered this was not going to be an easy task.  One foot is preschool girl size, one foot is now big girl size.  We need a shoe that is made the same for both preschool and big girl.  And the big girl size needs to be wide in order to fit the orthotic.

After some research this past week we have found some possibilities to try.  I am thankful that there are options that still look girly for my little one who loves to sparkle.  In the scheme of everything she is facing, finding pretty shoes should be at the bottom of my concerns but the truth is it isn't.  It hurts my heart horribly that she will not be able to wear the same shoes as her sister.  I was sharing all of this to a dear friend this week.  She helped me to see that there is a blessing in the hurt.  That the heavy pain I feel for Elie is a sign that my heart is bonding to hers.

I am becoming her mama and all the depth that goes along with that name.




Comments

  1. I'm so sorry - I know it's tough. Remember to allow yourselves to grieve these things (or it will come back later on). It's okay to grieve and sorrow through these new things that you have to get used to - a new normal. I have learned to do that with Toby, so I can also go through the healing process too.

    Just a side-note FYI - sometimes you can just take out the inner liner of the shoes and they will sometimes fit over the orthotics (you may have already known that)? eheard other families doing it.
    Love you,
    Carrie

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