‎THE LITTLE FEET THAT CHANGED MY WORLD

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‎I had just given birth. My body was exhausted from hours of labour and pushing. I had spent so much energy bringing my little boy into the world that, at that moment, I barely had the strength to think about anything else. All I knew was that I had finally delivered my baby.

‎Then I learnt that my son had clubfoot.

‎You know, people often ask about the first reaction, as though every mother must have a clear memory of what she felt when she discovered that something was different about her child.

‎But the truth is, I cannot tell you exactly what my reaction was. I was tired. Really tired.

‎My body had been through so much and my mind was struggling to catch up with everything that had happened. I had just crossed the difficult bridge of childbirth and now there was something new I needed to understand.

‎Perhaps the reality had not fully settled in. Perhaps I was simply too exhausted to process it all. Whatever the reason, I cannot pretend to remember feelings that I cannot clearly recall.

‎What I remember is that my son had arrived and he had clubfoot as the doctor had said and the doctor had also said that it could be corrected.

‎That was the beginning of a journey I had never imagined taking.

‎I did not yet know what it would demand of me as a mother. I did not know what treatment would involve or what the coming months would look like. I was at the beginning of motherhood, learning that sometimes, the things that change our lives arrive without warning.

‎I had carried him for months, but I was only beginning to understand the journey of carrying the responsibility of his care.

‎And so, our story began.

‎After the midwife learnt about my son's condition, he called an orthopedic doctor to come and examine him.

‎I was still recovering from labour, trying to take in everything that had happened. I had just become a mother and already there was something new I needed to learn about my child.

‎The orthopedic doctor came and explained that my son had clubfoot. But he was quick to reassure me that it was a condition, not a disability that would define my son's entire life.

‎He explained the condition in a way I could understand. He walked me through the steps involved in correcting it and advised me on what I needed to do next.

‎For the first time, I began to understand that there was a way forward.

‎Until then, clubfoot had been an unfamiliar word attached to my newborn son. I did not know what it meant, what treatment involved, or what the future might hold. But the doctor's explanation gave me something I could work with: information.

‎There was a treatment plan. There were steps to follow too. There were people who understood the condition and knew how to help.

‎I was still a new mother and I was still learning. I did not suddenly become an expert on clubfoot because a doctor had explained it to me. But I was beginning to understand that my son's story did not have to be defined by the way his feet looked when he was born.

‎He was still my son.

‎And now, I had a responsibility to learn, to follow the guidance I had been given, and to walk with him through whatever his treatment journey required.

‎I did not know everything that lay ahead of us. But at least I was no longer facing an unfamiliar word without an explanation.

‎Our journey had begun and I was ready to learn.

‎After the orthopedic doctor explained my son's condition and walked me through the treatment process, I asked to go home first.

‎I had just given birth. My body needed time to heal and I knew I needed to recover before embarking on the journey that lay ahead of us.

‎I begged to be allowed to go home, heal, and return with my baby when I was ready to begin his treatment.

‎And so, I went home with my newborn son.

‎For the next two weeks, I had time to recover from childbirth and...