Friday, September 24, 2010

The Mole.

Someday, Claire is going to be a teenager.  A teenager who will detest the beautiful mole on her forehead.  She'll ask, maybe beg, to have it removed.  She'll try to cover it with varying shades of concealer.  She'll cut bangs that cover it.  She'll research home remedies for making birthmarks and freckles fade, and she will experiment in my kitchen when she thinks I am not paying attention. It won't matter what I say, she will hate that mole.  I am sure that this is inevitably going to happen because we all go through this at some point in our lives, hating the things about us that make us unique, special, US.  I wish I could tell her that I loved it from the second she was born, but I am not going to lie to her.  I'm going to tell her the truth, and maybe that will help her accept her mole (and can I just say, I hate that word!) as just one of the many things that make Claire Dunham a special little girl.

As it turns out, moles don't show up on ultrasounds.  Shocking, I know.  After 10 hours of labor and 28 minutes of pushing a 6 pound 5 ounce baby out of my body, the moment came.  My daughter was born.  She was here, in the world, being put on my chest by the doctor and cleaned off by the nurses.  I should have cried, but I couldn't because I was too relieved to have the hard part over with.  I looked down at my baby, squirming, crying, adjusting to the world, and the first thing I saw was a ginormous brown spot on her forehead.  It must have been huge, at least as big as a quarter (post-delivery hormones have a funny way of messing with your perspective, a little lesson I learned that day...).  My thought process went something like this:

OH MY GOD.  My baby has a huge THING on her head!  What is it?  It's huge!  Is it normal for babies to be born with big moles?  Oh God.  Oh!  I'm her mother!  I'm supposed to love her no matter what and be happy that she's here, and this is supposed to be the happiest moment of my life to date, and here I am worrying about this thing on her head...but there is a THING on her head!  And it is huge.  Huge.  It's going to be huge and hairy and kids will make fun of her, like that kid in our school with the huge mole, the kid that was supposed to be in my class this year.  She will be picked on because of this thing.  But I'm supposed to just love her.  Maybe we'll get it removed.  We'll have to find out about that right away.  I am the worst mother ever.  The worst

There may or may not have been some expletives in there.  I'm tryin' to keep it PG here...you get the idea.  It was bad, or at least I thought it was.  So, without further adieu, here is a picture of that huge mole just hours after Claire was born. 


Okay, so it really wasn't huge.  In my defense though, it was much darker that day than it is now.  And, let me remind you, ultrasounds don't show moles!  I had never thought about babies being born with moles.  I knew that they sometimes had those little red stork bite birthmarks, but I was not prepared for a brown pencil-eraser-sized mark to be above my perfect little newborn's eye.  I was embarrassed that she had it because, at first, I looked at it as an imperfection on my otherwise very perfect little girl.  I wish I could remember what everyone said when they saw it.  I think people said that they liked it, or maybe some just didn't really say anything at all.  I have no clue.  At the time, it didn't matter what anyone said because I was like Future Teenaged Claire, just trying to think of ways to make it go away.  I was also trying to pretend like it was no big deal because I felt terrible about my real thoughts!  I didn't want anyone to know how I really felt.

A few days after we came home from the hospital, Jeff's mom Ann was at our house.  She was holding Claire so that I could go upstairs and take a shower.  I will never forget this day.  She sat in the chair, looked down at Claire and said, "You know, it's like all that time she was in you she had this little secret that only she knew about.  And now, here she is, sharing her secret with all of us."  It was at that moment that I stopped worrying about the mole.  I realized that it wasn't something to be embarrassed about, but instead, it was a little trait that made Claire even more special.  I know I would have gotten there eventually, but there was just something about the way Ann said this that made me get to the point of acceptance so much more quickly.

For a long time I didn't tell anyone about what went through my head that day that Claire was born.  It was my first official experience with the dreaded, unavoidable Mommy Guilt.  Once I realized that the mole was no big deal, I was worried about how awful my initial reaction might seem to anyone else.  I've now learned that those moments after a baby is born are so clouded by hormones (and bodily shock) that pretty much anything that happens during those moments can easily be forgiven.  I mean, obviously I wasn't thinking clearly, because a mother thinking clear, logical thoughts would not be worrying about her newborn baby being picked on in second grade, 7 years in the future, for a mole on her head!



Oddly enough, I was so focused on the mole that I didn't notice the skin tag by her ear.


I have described it as a little speck of spaghetti hanging off her ear.  The skin tag did get removed and in going to the specialist, a pediatric plastic surgeon, we learned that the ears and kidneys develop at the same time in utero.  A problem on the ear, such as a bump or extra skin, could signal that the kidneys didn't develop properly and that they, too, have a "bump".  He didn't come right out and say it, but I'm pretty sure "bump" was his code word for "tumor"  When Claire was about 8 months old we had an ultrasound to check her kidneys (which were fine!  Phew!!!) and then a few weeks later we had the skin tag removed.  That surgeon also told us that moles present at birth have a higher rate of becoming cancerous than moles that develop on our bodies over time.  He said that we will have to monitor Claire's mole carefully and make note of any changes.  It may need to be removed eventually.  I remember feeling so sad at the idea of having that mole removed!  Funny how at birth all I wanted was to have that thing disappear off her head, and just a few months later the idea of taking it off was unfathomable to me.  I just can't even imagine her beautiful face without that little brown speck. 



And yes, it has gone from "hairy, huge, bigger than a quarter" to "little brown speck".  Now that I've had almost 4 years to get those post-partum hormones out of my system I'm able to put together some clear thoughts on the subject.

Claire, don't hate your mole.  Embrace it, love it, accept it.  Trust your mama, you rock that mole better than Cindy Crawford ever imagined.  Forget the fact that you have no idea who Cindy Crawford is.  Just trust your mama.  Love you, baby.

3 comments:

  1. Betsy, you have done such a great job on this blog. I have to admit I am totally jealous of the way you are able to express yourself to your kids so clearly here. Someday Claire will undoubtedly read this blog and be like "Mom, give me a break!" But then she will grow out of that teenage stage, will look back and will hope that she can be as good a mom to her kids as you were to her and she might just end up loving that mole or at least realizing that she wouldn't quite be Claire without it.

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  2. Awww, thanks, Tab! You are too sweet :)

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  3. Thank you for sharing your story. My husband and I are due in 3 weeks and our 4D ultrasound(s) have clearly shown a visible mole on our daughter's cheek. I had the same feelings that you had as soon as I saw it. I felt terrible. Now, seeing how beautiful your daughter is, I feel much relief. I also felt guilty because I have a sister who is handicapped and I thought about how selfish I was to worry about a mole while my parents never once complained about my sister and her disability. Thanks again for sharing.

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