Official word came through from insurance today: no helmet for Becca. The claim was denied. That's unfortunate, because I was planning on paying for her college tuition through her work as a Gerber baby. (Rumor has it that Gerber only uses babies with big heads. Check. But they probably need to be round. Uncheck.) Seriously, though, we had decided to go for the helmet therapy if insurance would cover it, but it's looking like it's a no-go. Several of you have indicated (publicly or privately) that you might be willing to sponsor a portion of this darling cranio-facial-shaping orthodic device, but, let's face it: Becca is darling enough as is. Let's save your generous hearts for another instance, say, oh, when we need to buy plane tickets to Milan for Becca's runway debut as Europe's premier petite model...or to Stockholm when she accepts her Nobel Prize in biochemistry or astrophysics or both...or to St. Petersburg when she is competing for the Women's Gymnastics All-Around gold at the 2024 Summer Olympics (has the venue yet been selected?). My point is, your many kindnesses (both in words and gift offers) have not gone unnoticed, but anything that Becca would have done with a perfectly round head (which the helmet was not guaranteed to produce), she can do with a moderately flat head instead. Besides, knowing Becca, if anyone were unwise enough to make fun of her plagocephalic macrocephalus, she would kick them in the shins and move right along.
I'm disappointed, but I can't be too upset. This is, after all, the first claim for Becca that our insurance has denied (I'm still wrangling with them about a claim for John), and though our premiums are astronomical (seriously, you think your insurance is expensive?), we've certainly gotten our money's worth. But more on the state of insurance and health care later.
I didn't want a stupid helmet for her anyway. They don't come in purple.