It wasn’t huge on the scale of things, but it’s been niggling in the pit of my stomach for a week now.

After being told back in February that Frog’s walking delay was NOT due to hip dysplasia, we had a letter telling us otherwise. After the countless appointments we’ve been to and the blood tests and the physio sessions, this was a setback. And a confusing one at that.

The letter was written by a pediatrician we have yet to see, after he thought that we had failed to turn up to an appointment (we hadn’t, but that’s another story). It was a very pleasant letter, forwarded by our GP, but the sentence at the top of the letter had me in tears.

Problem: Mild hip dysplasia, joint hyper-laxity, mild developmental delay

Lack of sleep combined with confusion just opened the flood gates. And then the tears turned to anger. I went through all the possibilities in my mind, constantly coming back to the one that I most feared. There’s been a mistake. I misunderstood. My two year old does, actually, have a dislocated hip.

The thing is, we have never actually been sat down and told what she is constantly being referred for. The GP originally referred her for suspected hip dysplasia. Given that she was 19 months at the time and still not walking, it seemed like the most obvious answer.

But she was x-rayed and examined and – although a bit clicky – the hip was given the all clear.

So then she was referred to a physio for the flexibility (or hyper-laxity, hypermobility, bendiness – whatever you want to call it). But the specialist nurse requested to see us again, to check progress. By this time (I lose track amongst all the appointments) Frog was actually up on her feet. She’d just turned two and was a wonky walker, but a walker all the same.

But she was sleeping lots. Some nights, there would be up to 17 hours of deep sleep. This concerned the nurse and she ordered blood tests.

Blood tests came back negative of anything scary and again we heaved a sigh of relief. But still the nurse was concerned. And because she’s thorough and wanted to erase all questions, we were referred to a pediatrician.

Or so we thought.

It was then that we received this letter out of the blue. And I started to wonder if the initial x-ray had been re-examined and a problem had been found. I asked my buddies Jane and Emma if they knew what “mild” hip dysplasia meant. I vented steam by writing cryptic, angry posts on Facebook.

I made lots of phone calls, was put through to various different people and was kept on the line waiting a fair few times.

And then, after a week, I got the call I’d been waiting for.

“She doesn’t have hip dysplasia. It was a mistake. You shouldn’t have had that letter. We got our wires crossed. Really sorry.”

I’m too relieved to be cross at the admin error – or whatever it was.

My bendy girl has jumped through yet another hoop. Which is quite fitting really, considering she’s recently learned how to jump and actually take off from the ground, even if it is only a millimetre.

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Honesty and the ability to give it to someone straight. Talking around a subject, fluffing it up with watery phrases like, “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” or “Everything’s fine… really”, do not help. Not when everything might not be fine.

As a parent, if there’s even the tiniest thing wrong with your child you want to know about it straight away. You want to know the exact cause of whatever the problem is – whether it’s a rash or a limp, a temperature or a delay in walking.

Whatever the problem, you want to sit in a room with a trusted professional “magician” who can soothe all your fears away with clear, no nonsense facts. You want it to be like exam results day, one quick pull of the plaster and Ta-Da! the bottom line is THIS.

Or maybe that’s just me.

What you don’t want is to be told that, “Everything is fine, but you still need to come back in a couple of months, because everything might not be fine after all.”

What you don’t want is to receive a letter, detailing some facts in black and white, with the assumption that you knew this information, that it’s been told to you verbally in one of your many appointments, only to find that it hasn’t.

What you don’t want is to be fobbed off with sentences that don’t actually mean anything, with the assumption that you wouldn’t understand the technical jargon anyway, because you’re just the child’s mother. And everyone knows mothers are paranoid.

Enough.

Just give it to me straight.

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Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I should find out what is wrong with my little girl, if anything. Tomorrow I should find out if my non-toddling toddler is just a late walker or if there is, indeed, a more sinister reason for her lack of mobility.

Tomorrow we shall navigate our way to a room in a large hospital in the centre of a busy town, to sit with a consultant who will examine my beautiful baby.

He will tell me if there is a problem with her hips. A problem which will require an operation. A problem which will require a cast. For months. A problem which could – worse case scenario – see me have to give up my job to look after my special daughter.

Or he could tell us there is no reason for her wonky stature and lopsided gait. He could tell us she just isn’t ready to get up on her two feet by herself yet. He could tell us that, at nearly 2 years old, my little Frog is just a bit behind.

He could refer us to someone else, an expert in another area, to look at another reason for the fact she’s been up on her feet for 6 months now, struggling desperately to make it on her own, without holding her mum’s hand.

Or there may be no conclusion. I don’t know which is worse. The answer I dread or not knowing at all.

Desperate to walk alone.

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