By Daisy Wakefield

For April Fool’s Day, 8-year-old Kaiden Cook of Shawnee wore his backpack to school, with his hand sticking out of it, bobbing and waving to people behind him. Yes, it was his hand – he has two in addition to the one he was born with, so there’s always one spare, yup, on hand.

Kaiden was born with Amniotic Band Syndrome, a congenital birth defect caused by a tear in the amniotic sac. Fibrous bands of the sac float and then entrap some part of the fetus, cutting off the flow of blood.

In Kaiden’s case, circulation was cut off just past his elbow, so that he was born without a right lower arm.

Kaiden’s mother, Carlee Amarello, recounts that her ultrasound at five months of gestation showed an anomaly in the umbilical cord, but one that did not seem to be detrimental to the baby. As a precaution, she had an ultrasound and a stress test done every week from then until she delivered, but there was no hint of the missing limb.

At the delivery, the room hushed when Kaiden emerged, and Carlee was told that the baby had a missing arm. She was confused and distraught, wondering if she was somehow responsible. But it didn’t take her long to see that she was given a gift.

“At first I questioned how God could do this to me,” Carlee says. “Now I wonder how God could do this for me – give me this amazing kid who has helped me to become a better me, a better version of myself.”

Kaiden’s elbow joint is intact, with nubbins where his fingers would have been. He’s able to move the joint back and forth, and the ham side of him has named it “baby arm” and makes it talk in funny voices. He was first fit at four-anda- half-months-old with a prosthesis – a passive arm and hand which was mostly for aesthetic purposes.

Carlee explains, “His prosthetist told us that if we give people 30 seconds to meet him without seeing that he’s missing his arm, they won’t focus on that. They will actually see HIM. We also wanted him to have options. If we could provide him with a second hand, why wouldn’t we?”

Just a few months ago, Kaiden also started using a myoelectric prosthesis, which has two electrodes where it fits over his elbow joint. He is able to open and close the hand by maneuvering his elbow joint toward the two electrodes. Although the myoelectric prosthesis is useful to Kaiden, the battery pack contained within is heavy, affecting his back alignment. It is also mentally and physically taxing to use for long stretches of time, as he has to maintain his elbow joint’s position on either electrode for the hand to open or close.

However, Kaiden’s special need has not deterred him from being active and playing sports. Kaiden shines in soccer, where hands are of no use, and he only needs to kick the ball, in his own words, “with my stinky feet!” He has also recently joined his school’s running club, and though his gait is a bit stilted, he runs gamely, showing his purist heart of love for activity and sport.

Aubri Olson, his PE teacher, says, “Kaiden is an amazing kid! He will try everything we are doing in PE. When things get a little frustrating, he keeps going, reminding me that he wants to accomplish something new every day. [Kaiden] inspires me every PE class.”

Case in point – during one class, Kaiden gave a valiant try on an exercise with the pull up bar. He had his myoelectric prosthesis on and closed the hand around the bar, while his natural hand also held onto it. Still, his weight was too much, and Kaiden fell to the ground, leaving the prosthetic hand still clamped and dangling from the bar. After a stunned silence, the whole class burst into laughter, with Kaiden laughing the loudest.

For Kaiden, laughing and lightheartedness come naturally. He’s a selfproclaimed artist of comic books, a whiz with his substantial collection of Transformers and a gentleman in the making who walks a friend across the street to the house. And not the least of which, he is also a comedian who works the audience. Told that he is the subject of an article, he sashays across the room while cradling his elbow joint and coos, “Look at me – I’m walking the red carpet!”

Daisy Wakefield is a freelance writer in Lawrence, Kansas, who is hopeless with her eight-year-old son’s Transformers, even with two hands.