A disruption to our rhythm.
This past summer, I wrote about my son's facial hemangioma.
Your kind words and assuring comments sang to me, and helped me discover many things about the choices we have made as a family, the true meaning of beauty and acceptance, and changes that will surely come our way.
W is growing and discovering the social elements of play more and more.
I struggle to watch him pinch and hit; yet I understand that it is part of a toddler's development and ego..
I delight in hearing him joyfully express himself through new words, sounds, and movement.
Children ask questions when they observe something out of the ordinary...I more than respect this, and I have found that playmates always move past physical differences once they are appropriately explained to them, according to their developmental phase.
Adults are not as sweet.
Our dermatologist has been hoping that we will decide on a laser treatment to reduce the redness permanently.
Hemangiomas do usually fade considerably by the time a child is "school age."
Do we forgo treatment, like we had planned?
This was an easy decision months ago.
Now that he is "out and about"; out of the baby wrap that he was nestled in for so many months, facing the world, so to speak, things are different.
Jay and many of our extended family members have expressed that it would be in W's best interest to try a session of this treatment. I can understand. There are benefits, for sure.
I wish for my son to not have to grow up constantly answering "why his nose is all red." I don't want this physical attribute be what sets him apart and makes him memorable...I want people to notice his joyous energy, his beautiful smile, and his strength first!
Also, selfishly, I am weary of it being the topic of conversation when I first meet someone. I have grown tired of the questions, the stares.
Our appointment is scheduled for this coming Thursday.
The treatment is done with a pulse-dyed laser, which will be operated by our pediatric dermatologist, a woman who I have grown to trust over the past year. We are opting for anesthesia...without it, W would be restrained with his eyes covered for protection. Can you imagine? I shuddered when I heard this. There was no way...especially since the procedure is not entirely painless.
The treatment center is 90 minutes away. No food or drink for 4 hours beforehand. I know W will be wanting to nurse, and I will want to comfort him. This will be difficult for both of us. I pray for strength as this day draws closer, and I hope we have made the right decision.
There is a huge part of me that feels overwhelming guilt already for altering my son's body. For making this decision for him. I would back out of this altogether, but I need to consider the rest of my family's (mostly Jay, my husband-type) opinions and feelings. I also realize that this may be a gift to him; a way for him to have a childhood free from judgement and criticism related to his face (I can hardly believe I am saying this...)
I am one of those mothers that wants to save her child from all pain and suffering...in any way. Emotional pain, physical pain...
I know I am not alone in this..
I have heard many, many times that "we can't live in a bubble", "you can't save him from everything!", "being a parent is about making difficult decisions"...I realize this. Pain is a part of life, and it serves a purpose in some ways.
But this doesn't stop me from feeling the way that I do.
Please send us positive thoughts!
Please send us positive thoughts!