How to Greet My Son, Not His Birthmark
I love everything about my son. I love his squishy belly, short and chubby legs, and his small little hands. I could spend all day counting each and every curl on his head, touching his small chin, and kissing the dimple on his right cheek. I view every millimeter of this child as a gift of God, from his freckles to his finger prints because he’s my miracle baby. When my wife and I were diagnosed with infertility and we were told we had a 2% chance of ever conceiving. It would take the morning of our first IVF class to find out our prayers have been answered. Nine months later, God gave us the most beautiful child I have ever seen. He is our living miracle. After our journey to have him, I wouldn’t change a thing about him, not even his birthmark.
I’ll never forget the first time I noticed his birthmark. It was a small, dark mark near his eyes. I honestly barely noticed it. I couldn’t help but be in awe of seeing such a tiny human, especially one that I helped bring into this world. He was my first child and there he was, breathing and alive. From that moment, I was finally a father tasked with keeping this human alive. Nothing else mattered to me.
That’s why I easily brushed off the doctor’s comments regarding the spot as being a labor-induced bruise. After, my wife was in labor for 14 hours, endured two hours of pushing, and ultimately ended up needing a C-section, a labor-induced bruised was the least of my concerns. Bruises eventually will fade away. However, as she continued to examine the mark, she mentioned the worst case scenario, cancer.
Within two minutes of seeing my son, I was already reminded of what it means to be mortal. It didn’t feel right to be forced to think that way so soon. Babies are babies, they don’t die. They live forever. At that point in his life, I could have told you how many breaths he took, I wasn’t prepared for cancer to rob my son of his existence. That couldn’t be the reality for my son. For that reason, we made sure we had an expedited referral to a dermatologist to test for cancer.
Honestly, when it comes to his life, I put everything on a slippery slope. This was especially the case for his dermatology appointment. If the mark was cancerous, it couldn’t be benign, it subsequently skipped all the preliminary stages of cancer and went straight to stage four, and was inoperable because of its proximity to his eye. Pure fear controlled my thoughts. I feared losing my gift so much that by the time our appointment arrived, I had already diagnosed and given my son a prognosis before we step foot in the building. All I wanted from the doctor was an estimate of how much time I had left with my son.
Fortunately, we received amazing news. The mark that I believed threatened my son’s life was only a congenital nevus, a mole. Moles are a very common type of birthmark. My cousin has one on his arm. My brother has one on his neck. Even I could possibly find one on myself, if I looked hard enough. Birthmarks aren’t usually dangerous. Although, our doctor informed us that congenital nevi still have the potential to become cancerous, she was fairly confident that his chances we’re extremely low. Again, it was just a mole. I could finally relax a little knowing that my son was safe. He simply had an extra splash of melanin by his eye.
The doctor then asked my wife and I if we wanted to remove this birthmark. The surgery would essentially be plastic surgery, he could have a noticeable scar that remained, and it also had the risk of permanently damaging his left eye. I spent so long thinking his mark was a death sentence that I couldn’t imagine the option of simply removing it for cosmetics. At that point, would it even be worth it? He was perfect just the way he was. Changing him simply because we had the option to do so didn’t seem right. I also wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if he was permanently harmed from complications during surgery. Once the surgery was completed, there would be no going back. What was done would be done. I wouldn’t want him to resent us for taking control of his body without his consent. In the end, it should be his choice and when he’s ready, my wife and I will be fully prepared to support him in whatever he chooses. Our only fear now is how will we prepare him for the confrontational society in which we live. Sadly, he’s already had to deal with it.
“Oh, no! What happened to the baby’s eye?”
“Is he okay?”
“Who gave that baby a black eye?”
“He’ll have cool stories to tell about his eye”
As his parents, we can’t control what the lady passing by in the grocery store says to him. We can’t control the older gentlemen at church that turned around just to stare. Most importantly, we can’t control what other kids say, especially the ones at school. To them, his mark is a black eye that entices them to react. For most, it’s a genuine cause for concern. But, after our son has dealt with the stares, finger pointing, and unfiltered words, I’m not sure if their concern is needed. It’s unfair for anyone to feel subjected to this kind of abuse. I just hope my wife and I will do our best to prepare our son for what’s to come.
I know, as parents, we should prepare our son for the road and not the path, but I can’t help wanting to be his biggest defender. Most people’s intentions are well, but their curiosity can get the best of them and make them harmful. Their constant assumptions, questions, and comments for something so small simply because it’s different would exhaust anyone. It helps no one. I understand their impulse to blow things out of proportion, though.
One of my favorite scenes in Austin Powers in Goldmember was the mole scene. It was pure comedy gold. In this scene, Austin Powers couldn’t even let a fellow agent speak without calling out his mole. Then he noticed the mole and not the individual who was actively trying to help him. This is exactly how I feel when people meet my son. They never attempt to take the time to know my son’s story.
For my son, all I ask is that you greet him first. Be curious about the curls in his hair, his smile, and calm demeanor. Notice his love of Sesame Street, books, and instruments. He barely speaks at the age of one, but will instantly light up when you say Cookie Monster. Have a conversation about that. Pay attention to how much he is loved by his parents and form a meaningful relationship with us. When you get to know us, you’ll see how much our son is adored. He is our miracle baby and we love all of him, even his birthmark. At that point, if we still haven’t mentioned it (maybe because it’s invisible to us), then ask. We are not ashamed of his birthmark.
If the above process is too labor intensive, try the simpler version.
- Keep
- Your
- Unwarranted
- Social
- Commentary
- To
- Yourself
His birthmark is on his face not yours. Don’t be like Austin Powers. We’re perfectly content with you waving and going about your business.