Marked for Greatness
Readers of this blog may be too shy to ask about the the big red mark on Muffin's head. It has NOTHING to do with that time I let her fall off the bed, I swear.
The first time I held Muffin, I unwrapped her from the hospital blanket to get a good look at her monkey hands, her bird legs, and her froggy feet. I also removed the tiny knit cap to see her hair, which had looked curly right after birth, but now washed, was smooth and straight. I noticed a small purplish mark just over her forehead, but dismissed it as a bruise from the rough labor.
Over the next few weeks, the spot became bulbous. It reddened and grew. And grew. And grew until OH MY GOD THAT RED THING IS EATING OUR BABY.
It turns out Muffin had a hemangioma, also known as a strawberry birthmark. No one knows what causes them, but they are more common in girls than boys. My pediatrician told me it would most likely be gone by the time she was 2, but my own research suggests that about half are resolved by age 5, with the rest clearing up by puberty.
At first, the strawberry was oddly endearing. I called her Gorbachev Baby, and considered it an excellent excuse for hats. But then I starting noticing the uncomfortable silences we encountered when we met new people. One person visibly recoiled when I removed her hat without a preface. In airports, I'd hear whispers trailing behind us. I'd make jokes about it (see the first paragraph) that went over with a thud every time.
A few months ago we took her to see a specialist. He told us that although the strawberry will eventually resolve itself, the skin will always be crepe-y, and most likely won't grow hair. We can see that now that her hair is longer; that spot only sports peach fuzz, while the rest of her hair is much thicker. He recommended waiting a year or two, and then getting some plastic surgery to pull the normal, hair-producing skin over the bald spot.
We haven't decided what we'll do yet. The idea of her having surgery -- elective surgery -- fills my heart with dread. How will I explain it to her? It's all so shallow; after all, she could have cancer or a bum heart or my ugly toes. Perhaps there's a lesson in here, for her and for me, that it's ok to be less than perfect. But I also don't want to send my little girl off to school with a bald patch in the front of her head.
Now that Muffin's hair is longer, the birthmark is much less noticeable. It might be getting smaller, but it's hard for me to be objective since I see her every day. Some days I forget it's even there. But it is there. And I hate the idea of someone fixating on that birthmark and not noticing her electric smile or her curious eyes or her impish personality. Strawberry or no, she's a masterpiece, and I want the world to see that too.
The first time I held Muffin, I unwrapped her from the hospital blanket to get a good look at her monkey hands, her bird legs, and her froggy feet. I also removed the tiny knit cap to see her hair, which had looked curly right after birth, but now washed, was smooth and straight. I noticed a small purplish mark just over her forehead, but dismissed it as a bruise from the rough labor.
Over the next few weeks, the spot became bulbous. It reddened and grew. And grew. And grew until OH MY GOD THAT RED THING IS EATING OUR BABY.
It turns out Muffin had a hemangioma, also known as a strawberry birthmark. No one knows what causes them, but they are more common in girls than boys. My pediatrician told me it would most likely be gone by the time she was 2, but my own research suggests that about half are resolved by age 5, with the rest clearing up by puberty.
At first, the strawberry was oddly endearing. I called her Gorbachev Baby, and considered it an excellent excuse for hats. But then I starting noticing the uncomfortable silences we encountered when we met new people. One person visibly recoiled when I removed her hat without a preface. In airports, I'd hear whispers trailing behind us. I'd make jokes about it (see the first paragraph) that went over with a thud every time.
A few months ago we took her to see a specialist. He told us that although the strawberry will eventually resolve itself, the skin will always be crepe-y, and most likely won't grow hair. We can see that now that her hair is longer; that spot only sports peach fuzz, while the rest of her hair is much thicker. He recommended waiting a year or two, and then getting some plastic surgery to pull the normal, hair-producing skin over the bald spot.
We haven't decided what we'll do yet. The idea of her having surgery -- elective surgery -- fills my heart with dread. How will I explain it to her? It's all so shallow; after all, she could have cancer or a bum heart or my ugly toes. Perhaps there's a lesson in here, for her and for me, that it's ok to be less than perfect. But I also don't want to send my little girl off to school with a bald patch in the front of her head.
Now that Muffin's hair is longer, the birthmark is much less noticeable. It might be getting smaller, but it's hard for me to be objective since I see her every day. Some days I forget it's even there. But it is there. And I hate the idea of someone fixating on that birthmark and not noticing her electric smile or her curious eyes or her impish personality. Strawberry or no, she's a masterpiece, and I want the world to see that too.
Muffin at 4 months
posted by Muffin's Mom at 9:27 PM
4 Comments:
Hi Babes,
Ah I know the feeling. Milla's hemangioma also started off as a little dot which grew to its present size.
Just like I you, I haven't noticed it as a defect/mark on my child and often forgotten about it until someone points it out.
Most people are superficial about babies, wanting a perfect looking one. Just like you, to me, my Milla is perfect even with hemangioma. It is part of her and I think it is quite unique and sweet.
We haven't decide what we are going to do with it but to be honest, I am not bothered by it and will only do something when she is a bit older.
Will write you more on this.
Love your photos!
p.s Chloe is gorgeous and has a strong personality which shines through my screen...That my dear is beyond anybody's superficial perfection!!
This posting and the subject of hemangioma is an eye opener to me.
It is so wonderful that you can embrace your daughter's flaw in such a positive light. As long as you and family remind her of what true beauty really is, that beauty will outshine any physical flaw. Keep up the great parenting!
i came across your blogg and wanted to say hello. my daughter has a hemangioma too. i have stragers say things to me and it is annoying. i laughed so hard at your fisrt paraghrph. people tell me my daughter needs lotion or ask if i know her face is all red. i have thought about being smart and saying that i spilled my coffee on her, but would hate to have cps show up at my home. any how your daughter is pretty and enjoy her good health :) wyndi izabells mom
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