Nikki’s Story

Finding out at our 20-week scan that our son had talipes was the start of an emotional, confusing, and ultimately reassuring journey for our family.

It all began with a bit of a surprise. Having previously been told we were expecting a girl, we found out at the scan that we were actually having a boy. It wasn’t upsetting news, but it was definitely disorienting. It felt like we had to suddenly say goodbye to the little girl we had been planning for over several weeks. On top of that, we were nervous about telling our five-year-old daughter, who was so set on having a baby sister that she had already named her Sunnie! When we gently broke the news, expecting tears, she just thought it was hilarious and insisted on calling the baby Sunnie anyway. The name stuck, and that’s how our little boy became Sonny.

Before we even had time to process the gender mix-up, the sonographer mentioned that Sonny had talipes. We had never heard the word before, and when she simply said his feet were growing the wrong way, we completely panicked. Already emotional, we burst into tears, assuming the worst and worrying our baby would have a life-long disability. She tried to reassure us by saying it was easily fixed with some simple at-home physio, but we later realised she didn’t really know much about the condition at all and that he’d need more than physio to make his feet right.

Next, a nurse taking my blood pressure dismissed our worries, telling us babies usually just need a quick stretch after birth and they’re good to go. When we asked about casts, she laughed and said they don’t use casts anymore, comparing it to how adults wear boots for broken legs, not casts. She assured us he wouldn’t need anything as permanent as a cast. Just like the sonographer, she spoke with total confidence about something she actually knew nothing about.

The confusion only grew when we saw a specialist a week later. He spent a whole hour checking the scan in complete silence while we sat there in terrified suspense, convinced he was finding something terribly wrong. At one point, he put his head in his hands, and our hearts sank. Once we had seen him several times we learned that it was just something he did when his eyes were tired! There was nothing else wrong with Sonny at all.

Everything finally clicked into place when we met Dr. Amanda Trees, an Advanced Practice Physiotherapist specialising in paediatric orthopaedics at James Cook University Hospital. From that moment on, Amanda brought so much clarity, warmth, and reassurance into our lives. She explained the Ponseti method, confirmed that he would indeed need casts, and encouraged us to join support networks, which ended up being a total lifeline for us.

Even with a plan in place, the uncertainty was tough. We worried constantly about what this meant for his future, whether he’d run and walk like other kids, what clothes would fit over his casts, and how we’d fit him into a car seat safely with his casts in place.

We sobbed over ordinary things, like having to decline a baby bath because his weekly bath would be at the hospital after cast removal, or staring at the cute little socks we’d bought knowing he wouldn’t be able to wear them.

I dreaded taking him out in public, worrying people would stare or assume I’d hurt him or dropped him down the stairs. To protect myself, I even made up a line that he’d been in a snowboarding accident just to keep people on their toes and avoid having to explain clubfoot. At one stage, I really thought I wouldn’t have the courage to take him out on my own.

We wondered if my history of hip dysplasia played a part. The medical team assured us it wasn’t linked, but offered genetic testing, which came with risks. We turned it down. We knew we didn’t want any more children, so where it came from didn’t really matter to us after all.

When I went into labour, I asked the midwives to cover his feet when he was born before handing him to me. I was so scared that seeing his clubfeet first would ruin that initial moment together. They were so respectful and seemed not to judge me. But when I finally looked at his feet, they were absolutely beautiful. When the time came for his casts, I cried, knowing I’d never see his cute little clubfeet in quite the same way again.

We went for his first casting when Sonny was two weeks old, but he was so upset and distressed that we couldn’t go through with it that day. Looking back, that extra week was a gift. It gave us time to go home, take photos of his feet, make ink footprints, and just adore him.

When we went back at three weeks old, the casting went smoothly. Sonny was such a star and handled it amazingly well. The difference was unbelievable:

Week 1: Severity score of 5 out of 6.

Week 3: Severity score dropped all the way to 1.5!

We can’t believe the transformation in his feet. We’re currently waiting to hear if he’ll need a tenotomy. Amanda mentioned it’s very likely because of his heel position, but overall she’s been thrilled with his progress.

Looking back, public reactions have been the complete opposite of what I feared. Instead of judgement or cold stares, people have responded with so much kindness, warmth, and polite curiosity. We feel so supported, and we hope that by sharing Sonny’s story, we can help other parents prepare for their own talipes journey and know that everything is going to be okay.