That's it - I'm Leaving the Band!

Yesterday, after nine very quick weeks, Max graduated from his DOC Band! It was our final visit to Cranial Technologies to take off Max's band for the very last time and get his last round of imaging for some before-and-after pictures. The photos below illustrate how his head has rounded out with the help of the band. Furthermore, it is clear from the photos that Max's torticollis (neck tilt due to muscle tightening on one side) is all but gone.

On our drive to the office, I thought about this being Max's final appointment with Cranial Technologies. We had taken him for weekly band adjustments for the past 9 weeks, but had been in contact with them since November. For a kid who is just about to turn 8 months old, that's a pretty good chunk of existence for us as a family of three. I looked back to the start of our journey, his journey.... noticing his flat spot for the first time at 6 weeks old ("Hey..that's weird...honey come look at this"), to finding out it had an actual name, to discovering the DOC Band intervention and beginning the process of "shaping up" his noggin. At the very beginning, I was upset. I was upset that he had this condition, albeit purely cosmetic; I felt badly for Max, having no idea at the time that he wouldn't even notice the band's existence; I was nervous of the reaction of others, seeing my little one sporting this oddly-shaped piece of plastic on his head. I remember being in the grocery store for our first outing after he started wearing the band... a very lovely woman approached us and started shmoozing with Max. "What big, beautiful blue eyes you have! Look at that smile. You sure are a happy little guy, aren't you!"

My translation: You are wearing a strange thing on your head, I am going to assume you have a mental and/or self-control problem and I'm going to avoid acknowledging this potentially awkward situation by commenting on everything below your forehead. Poor kid. Poor mom. Tsk tsk tsk.

It also didn't help that right about the time this interaction took place, Max proceeded to lick the grocery cart.

But it wasn't long before I got so used to Max in his band, he looked naked without it. Especially when he was really naked. Whoa, where'd he go?  I also found him to look adorable in it, like Toad from Super Mario Bros. When people would smile at Max and I as we strolled down the aisles at Costco, I no longer interpreted it as pity, and I looked forward to the conversation that would typically eventualize about him: his age, his weight, why yes, he is our first born, oh yeah it's just to correct some flattening in the back of his head. And the more people I talked to, the more it seemed like I was smack in  the middle of a game of Six Degrees to Kevin Bacon, if Kevin had plagiocephaly. Everyone I talked to either had a child or grandchild who wore a band, or knows someone who has. Right on!

If the me today could have sat down with the me three months ago, I would have taken myself by the shoulders, looked straight into my eyes, and told myself, "Do not worry. This is simple, this will fly by. Enjoy the process." And then we would split a piece of pie because I'd know we'd both love that.



My Little Toad

               

 

I did it, Ma!

Mom. You said "one photo".

 

 

Head shape, before and after DOC Band therapy