Man I miss Gary Larson!
Pink rainbow panties over her diaper and a huge hair flower: That’s what passes for a swimsuit (or “smimsmoop”) for Jelly Bean and watching her frolic in the end-of-summer 93-degree weather it seemed perfectly appropriate. Diaper and undies – who says you can’t have it both ways? In an attempt to make our last day before school starting even more Rockwellian, I brought out a big bowl of watermelon and the kids and I sat on the edge of the garden wall and ate it. But all was not as sweatily serene as it seemed.
Jelly Bean has always been a child with an eye for detail and so I wasn’t surprised when she pointed to my leg and said “Mommy yeg shiny!” (Too true. I sweat like a dude.) But then she pointed to her own “yeg” and mumbled something. I leaned in closer. “What did you say, sweetie?”
“TOO BIG.”
My heart stopped. “Did you just say your leg is too big?!”
“No,” she shook her head adamantly and I sighed with relief. “I say STUPID!”
Oh well that’s better.
“Mommy yeg shiny. My yeg STOOOOOPID.” As I looked closer I noticed she was covering up a birth mark with her wee hands.
“You don’t like your birthmark?” I said, trying to ignore the absurdity of comparing thighs with a toddler. She nodded. Round, brown, flat, about the size of a dime – she’s had it since, duh, the day she was born. I don’t remember ever talking with her about it; it’s just kind of a large freckle and never seemed like a big deal. But apparently it was to her.
“Go away!” she replied, almost pleading, as she tried to scrub it off her leg. “UGLY.”
“But honey, it’s not a flaw – you were made that way. It’s part of you and part of what makes you beautiful!” I exclaimed.
My husband, working in the garden nearby, added dryly, “Maybe mommy should listen to her own advice.”
I glared at him. “That’s different. She’s absolutely perfect! But I’m…”
He silenced me with a stare. “You’re what, exactly? And remember, she’s listening.”
I never did finish that sentence.
We’re all born with some kind of “birthmark”, something that makes us unique, something we can’t change even if we wanted to. Whether it’s the visible kind (like my double ankle bones- creepy!) or something less immediately obvious (like my anxiety and depression issues – I always say my family tree is a weeping willow!), our birthmarks make us, well, us.
But acknowledging that something is unchangeable is not the same as accepting it as part of yourself. I’ve spent a large part of my life hating things about myself that not even the best surgeon could excise. And of course, even in the midst of my hatred, I realize that these things make me who I am. (Let’s be honest, if I weren’t nuts I pretty much would have nothing to write about.) These two facts, taken together, have made for a tumultuous relationship with myself. How do I change a lifetime of low self-esteem? Strangely I’m learning a lot about this from my kids – the very people I’m supposed to be teaching this stuff to…
My son was born with eleven fingers. He had two fully formed thumbs on his left hand — a condition I’d never even heard another parent talk about, despite it being relatively common, until the sister on TLC’s Toddlers and Tiaras spinoff Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo had a baby with the same (dis?)figurement. The new baby’s family was at first reported to have mocked the infant but they recently released a statement saying, “We have embraced [the abnormality]. It makes Kaitlyn more special to us.” (Also, just for the record, I have never watched either of these shows. Not that I don’t have my own crap TV I’m addicted to, just that these shows aren’t one of them…)
I can understand their ambivalence, honestly. I still remember the shock I felt when I saw my infant’s strange hand. Despite conventional wisdom telling new parents that the first thing you do is count your baby’s fingers and toes, my husband and I didn’t notice until he was two days old. (In my defense, babies keep their hands in fists all the time!) And when I did notice? It was a full body shudder. But very quickly we grew used to it (it helped that I found him utterly adorable in every way) and the only time I even remembered that he had it was when I noticed a stranger’s eyes widen in shock when they first saw it.
By the time he was a year old, we had an important decision to make. The doctors told us if we were going to “fix” it we needed to do it while he was still very young so his nerves would regenerate properly. So we did it. I took my baby in with eleven fingers and after a seven hour surgery that I can only imagine was like playing Operation on a board shrunk five sizes, he came back out with ten. Just like everyone else.
I don’t know if we made the right decision.
At eight years old, he doesn’t know either. Just a couple of months ago he came running up to me crying. “Why did you cut off my magic, mommy?!?” For a brief panicky second I thought he was referring to his circumcision but then he continued. “My bonus thumb had all my super powers! And now I’m just a MORTAL!” As I comforted my crying son, I remembered our decision process. My husband and I didn’t know if this little person would be the type to love his differences or to be embarrassed by them and it seemed safer to just make him “normal” in this one regard because surely life would find plenty of other ways to make him different.
Truth to be told, I kind of miss his bonus thumb. Today he’s a child with a huge personality. I think he would have handled it well. Maybe it would have made him a basketball superstar or a genius pianist. Perhaps in trying to shield him from the cruelties of life, I only maimed him. Even though I did it out of love. Or perhaps someday he’ll thank me. (Did I save him from a lifetime of being The Six-Fingered Man for Halloween every year?) Maybe it’s both. Like so many parenting decisions, I’ll probably never know.
But I do know this: I love all the “birthmarks” my children have been born with. I love them because of their uniqueness, not in spite of it. And I need to learn to love myself with the same eyes.
Do you have a birthmark – either visible or not? Have you tried to change it? Cover it up? Ignore it? Flaunt it? What would you do if you had a kid with eleven fingers??
When I was in high school we had a science teacher whose ring finger and pinky finger were fused. Most people didn’t notice it right away but after that it was a constant battle for people not to stare. People just can’t help themselves, because it’s so unusual, and I imagine she was asked all the time why it had never been “fixed’. I honestly don’t know what she felt about it because I never thought it would be appropriate to ask.
I think if she were born today it would have been altered, considering how integral our fingers are in this generation for typing and whatnot, and also considering the way bullying has gotten so much more noticeable. I know if I were a parent who had that particular birth defect in a child I would have it fixed— but I’m a piano player and I cannot imagine not having complete mobility in my hands. However, an extra thumb isn’t quite the same as in that instance, so it’s hard to say. I would probably have had as hard a time debating the issue as you did.
As for what your daughter said about her birthmark, wow, she’s perceptive. I have a dear friend who many in my circle think it one of the most beautiful of us, and she has a quarter sized birth mark on the back of one of her (admittedly shapely) calves. It makes her more unique and I think in many ways makes her more attractive. Sometimes something that is a little out of the ordinary can add a great deal to a person, at least physically speaking.
I had a large birthmark right in the centre of my forehead. I hated it as a girl, just because everyone felt the need to ask about it, like I would never have noticed it if they hadn’t pointed it out!. It has faded and now isn’t visible anymore. It’s hard to say what I’d do in that situation. I think it would be cool to have an extra thumb, but it would be tiring to have someone stare at you all the time.
I just wanted to say that I loved your post today! It can be so much easier to embrace your loved ones’ flaws than your own. I’ll be making a conscious effort to do so! Thanks!
Great post! And what a tough choice for parents to make… I’d have made the same decision about the finger, as I think it’s rare for a kid to have a positive reaction from others to a noticeable “difference” that many would see as a deformity. I wouldn’t want to bet on the unlikely odds that he’d be happier being unique in a way many would see as “gross” however unfair that perception might be. (And check back with him when he’s a teenager… I suspect he’ll be most grateful).
I don’t actually know if I have any birthmarks. I’m covered with spots from head to toe, but I don’t know which ones I was born with and which ones just kind of showed up over the years. I do have this one freckle on my face, though, that showed up when I was about 13 years old. It’s oddly shaped, right next to my nose, and pitch black. The first time people notice it, they always assume it’s dirt or chocolate or something. I remember my mom scrubbing my face until it was almost raw one time because she thought it was ink.
Since then, I’ve had countless people suggest that I get it removed or invest in some good foundation or something, including my dermatologist, but I really like it for some reason. It’s weird and unique, and I’m keeping it.
(Note: my dermatologist recommended getting it removed purely for cosmetic reasons. She admits that it’s perfectly safe and shows no signs of skin problems that can accompany unusual freckles/moles. If it did pose a threat, I’d be all on board with getting it removed.)
Excellent post. It reminds me of Chandler on friends with his nubbin.
I don’t know what I would have done in your son’s situation, but I think I would have handled it the way you did. I’m not a parent yet, but I can understand not wanting your child to have to deal with something like that if they didn’t have to. Although I can also understand your ambivalence towards the situation now. It sounds like a tough call, and I think you made the right choice with the information you had at the time.
I think very little children don’t notice differences, disabilities, skin colour, physical aberrations, anything like that. I know there was a kid in a wheelchair when I was 4 or 5 at school, and no-one ever commented on it, it was just who he was. But when kids become older and succumb to peer pressure, differences are often seen as not being part of the crowd – children can be very cruel at times and tease each other about the stupidest of things.
So I would have done what you did.
Yes, I’ve one big black spot on my right arm. It’s like a different step, out of my imagination. Though i like it and also thanks for sharing.
I think an extra thumb would be cool, but I’d be too practical to keep it. If I lived somewhere that necessitated wearing gloves during the winter, the thumb would have to go. Can you imagine how expensive it would be to get custom made gloves?
I think I would make the same decision you did about my child. Not quite the same but looking back now I’m so grateful to my parents for insisting I get my teeth fixed. Maybe they’re less unique now but it was still the right choice.
I think my pale skin is one of my birthmarks. (Apparently I was so pale when I was born that they gave me a lower APGAR score, much to my mother’s indignation.) For years I tried to change it but I’ve now embraced it and I love being pale! It makes me, me.
I have a VERY small mole in the middle of my abdomen just above my belly button, I was terribly embarrassed by it for years, I even remember when I bought my first two piece swimsuit at 16. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize it’s insignifagance.
I have to say that I would have done the same thing for your son. I even wonder if he has such a personality because he did not have to endure extra teasing and stares from kids and strangers.
My birthmark is on my upper thigh and has never been anything I have paid attention to. Though a different story is my face. I have psoriasis on my face, and due to many years on birth control pills, I have brown splotches all over my cheeks. Make-up bothers my psoriasis, so I have had to come to terms with how I look.
I love this. It is so easy to find others imperfections darling and sweet but think ours are horrible and grotesque. On a slightly different note, I was on a train recently behind a man with an enormous puffy growth the color of his skin wrapping all the way around the base of his skull and up his cheek about 2 inches thick. It was either a totally benign birthmark type growth or a disgusting fungal infection and I could not honestly tell which. I hope for his sake it was the former. I’m still processing all the different emotions I felt as I tried not to stare at it while sitting directly behind him for an hour. It was a sharp reminder how shallow I can be, for sure.
I have a birthmark on my right thigh that’s shaped exactly like Bart Simpson. I show it off as much as possible. 🙂
Oh, and to answer the question that was actually answered, I have a couple birthmarks that don’t bother my aesthetically. My body issues lie elsewhere!
my birthmark is a scar from my cleft lip surgery and recently I was in a pretty bad wreck doing what I love…riding my bicycle! thanks for hitting me sending me flying to the hospital for a week an now a 6 inch scar on the top of my wrist and a few on my legs!
I have a fairly large triangular birthmark on my left hand. I mostly don’t think about it until someone asks me if it’s a burn scar. When I was a kid, my mom kept telling me she was going to have it cut off, which horrified me. When people comment on it, I tell them that it helps me tell my left hand from my right.
First of all: how much do you rock…! I have only been subscribed to your blog for a short while but every time I read a post my heart warms, to you, your wit, and your awesome messages. Tank you!
I have a characteristic nose. I used to want to change that, even have had one friend suggest I could have plastic surgery, but every time I looked into it I had to think, “do I really take my looks that seriously, does it really make a difference to life and love in general, does it add anything to the world at all if I strive to be physically perfect? And then, what if my future daughter doesn’t have the “perfect” features, i’d have to tell her that wasn’t able to love myself the way I was, how could I ask her to love herself?
Anyway, I think an extra thumb could be different, and the decision you made was out if love, not out of a shallow need for your child to be “perfect”. Love guides us well, I believe, especially since you combined it with the opinion of your husband and some deep thought!
“Strangely I’m learning a lot about this from my kids – the very people I’m supposed to be teaching this stuff to…” Amen to that! My husband and I have had nearly the exact conversation before. When I am giving my kids advice and I get the…”Mom should take her own advice”
This post is sweet. As to the six fingers, your son could have turned into the guy that Indigo Montoya was looking for: http://endofinfinity.20m.com/mono/6fingers.html so bullet dodged! (I joke, of course!)
I have a number of “beauty marks” (as my mom likes to call them). The one that’s the most noticeable is on my neck. And when I was younger, a lot of kids would make fun of it and call it an ant (kids can be so cruel!). I remember being so embarrassed at the time. Over the years, I’ve come to realize that the very things that make us different (both visible and not) make us beautiful – somthing I still have to remind myself on a daily basis!
I have a big (nickel sized) mole/birthmark on my knee. I don’t think about it half the time, except that I have a twin sister, and when we were babies it was one of the things people used to tell us apart (that and I had a huge red birthmark in the middle of my forehead, but that faded with time, and I am glad it did!). I actually have quite a few moles- they aren’t big and ugly and hair – they are just like extra-large freckles. And 90% of the time I don’t notice or think about them, and neither does anyone else. Every once in a while, I wonder if a future boyfriend will find the random mole in the middle of my back, or the two on my stomach gross.
I was flipping channels on tv shortly after reading this and Honey Boo Bear whatever was on… Oh my. Those people can’t be real, right?
Regardless, kids can be really cruel for no reason. I don’t have kids so I can’t really say but my inclination, if I had a kid born with an extra thumb, would be not to give them an actual reason to be mean. Sure he might like it as an adult-but how much bullying and trauma would he go through to get there?
I have a… let’s call it strawberry-sized birthmark on my foot. When I was little my parents suggested I use it to tell my left from my right, so I thought it was great. I still sometimes look down at my feet (even in shoes!) when I’m trying to remember. Other kids would sometimes ask if I had some dirt on my foot, but it never bothered me.The only time I remember getting embarrassed about it was when I was shopping with my mom for my first high school dance, I wanted to get some strappy sandals and she suggested ones with a thick band so I could hide my birthmark. I’m sure she’d be mortified if I ever told her that I was consequently self-conscious about it for like a year afterwards, because she really isn’t that type of person!
Oh I love this!!! I had “dumbo” ears as a child but my parents got me an ear tuck when I was 4. To be honest I’m glad they did. I have so many birthmarks that have bothered me at different times to different degrees over the years. When I was younger I hated my pale skin, moles
…sorry I didn’t mean to hit publish. Any way I could list so many things that have bothered me over the years. However with all the cancer in my family and having lost a number of very younf friends I no longer allow these things to bother me. I’m just so grateful to be alive and spend each day with my family that I can’t spend too much time thinking about “birthmarks”.