When Roxy was born, she had several noticeable spots: Angel Kisses on her eyes, a hemangioma on her belly and a congenital nevus (mole/birthmark) on her back thigh. The Angel Kisses were gone by the time she turned one just as the pediatrician had predicted. And the hemangioma has gotten so small and light in color it looks like a little fruit punch stain. But the mole wasn't going anywhere and was the kind that would only get bigger, darker and, well,... hairy.
When I first saw this mole I remember thinking 'Awww, how cute! She has a little beauty mark.' But she was brand new and could have had an extra eye that I would have found adorable. As Roxy got bigger, so did the mole. And the placement, right below her left butt cheek, made it look less appealing as each month went on. I had visions of her being teased by kids only in ways kids know how to be cruel. I was worried that this would leave a lasting impression on her and cause her embarrassment and a lack of confidence in a bathing suit - and we are such a beach family.
When I sought guidance from our pediatrician, he suggested we have it removed. I was a little shocked because, in some way, it seemed unethical - to voluntarily make changes to her body for vanity's sake. I actually struggled with this for quite some time. Even after I met with a pediatric dermatology specialist who said that it was a questionable mole, I had doubts that I had any right to make this decision about her body. But after speaking with several family members and friends and taking the advice of the surgeon, we decided to have it removed.
The surgery was this morning. I think I put on a good game face but inside I was a wreck. Sean was my rock as he had 100% confidence in the hospital staff. But I feared the worst. I knew anesthesia was going to be administered, as was a breathing tube because the procedure was to be performed while she was on her side. And to make things worse, she hadn't eaten since 8:00PM the night before and the surgery wasn't until 10:00AM. She hardly slept at all during the night because I couldn't let her nurse (she still latches between 3-4 times per night) and she missed her 9:00AM nap completely. By the time it was her turn to go into surgery, she was hungry and tired and totally confused by all of the people in blue jackets around her. And I was frightened - holding onto her for dear life thinking it wasn't too late to cancel the procedure. When I was told that I couldn't go back with her to hold her while she was put to sleep, I felt the wind knocked out of me. But I kept my game face on. I even kept it on as Roxy realized they were taking her out of my arms and she started screaming "Mama, mama, mommy!" with her arms outstretched. It was a long hall and all I could do was blow her kisses and tell her she was going to be alright. But I didn't know myself and I realized too late that in all the commotion I had forgotten to give her a kiss goodbye.
I went back out into the waiting room where Sean was snuggling with Dillen. I could only sit there and breathe. But for Dillen, I kept a smile... and took her in my lap to watch a bit of Nemo that was playing on the monitors above.
Not 20 minutes later, the nurse came out and called, "Mother of Roxy." I bolted to the door as I had seen all of the other parents do when their names were called. I was invited back into the same small consultation room (there were four) and waited for the doctor to return with news. When she walked in smiling, my heart started beating fast with joy. I knew all was ok. She said Roxy pulled through the procedure like a trooper and said "And she's so cute!" I felt a relief that I have not yet experienced. All I wanted to do was run back and hold her. But I had to wait for her to wake up from the anesthesia. I think I asked so many questions the doctor thought I had gone mad. But when she finally stopped me and said, "She's fine. She's just fine," I started to cry. Just a few tears though as I knew I had to hold it together - keep that game face on for my family.
I went back out to the waiting room and told Sean the news with a relieved breath. He looked at me a little funny - he really never worried.
We were all called back about 30 minutes later to a recovery room where we saw Roxy sleeping peacefully in a small hospital bed with an IV in her arm. She looked so sweet and her cheeks were so rosy. Dillen saw her and fell in love with her baby sister all over again. She said, "Oh, Little Peanut. Are you sleeping? I love you Roxy." Then she wanted nothing more then to give her kisses and to touch her face and forehead. I allowed Dillen to do this because Roxy was in a very contented sleep and didn't stir for anything.
About 45 minutes later the nurse began to remove Roxy's IV and this did stir her. She opened her eyes and when she saw me she gave me the cheekiest little smirky smile. She never fussed, never cried and nursed immediately.
We drove home about 10 minutes later.
She nodded in and out on the drive home but once we were home Roxy was back to her usual monkey-girl self. She was running down the hall, throwing toys, yelling loudly and giggling hard with Sean. She smacked on her leg a few times as she was walking and asked us "Dis?" (Her way of asking, "What's this?") But it never seemed to hurt her. It probably just feels funny since she has a large bandage and tape around the sutures.
We go back in 19 days to have the sutures removed at which time we will seek "treatment" to minimize any scarring.
I know what we did today was done in Roxy's best interest - both for her self esteem and for the relief of never having to worry about what this mole could become. Still, it was not an easy decision to make. Though she is my daughter, it is her body. I hope I will not have to make anymore decisions like this one but having children brings on many responsibilities and decisions that I never thought I would have to make.
So, she has one less spot today then yesterday... and I am holding her a little tighter tonight then usual.
