Birthmarks

About Birthmarks

I did a presentation all about birthmarks in speech class when I was in college .  I had never done anything like that before in my life.  I decided it was time to research this topic and actually discuss it in front of other people, to address the "elephant in the room", as they say.  Here I have attached a copy of my Power Point outline.  I tried to give as much general information about birthmarks as I could, just to inform people about the different types and what they actually are.  An interesting fact to note is that everyone in my family has one.  My husband and our son have café-au-lait spots (little brown marks), our son also has a small hemangioma, and our daughter has the little "stork bites", or macular stains.  I have a port-wine stain.  It is surprising how many people don't really know anything about them, even if they have one!  I was surprised how much I didn't know!  I also included at the end my personal experience of what it is like to have one so visible and how it affects my life.  I made my speech teacher cry.

 

 My Birthmark

I have a port-wine stain birthmark, as described in my speech.  No, it doesn't hurt, it is smooth skin, you can't feel it, and it has always been there.  I wish I had a nickel for every time in my life I have had to tell somebody what this is on my face, or what's "wrong" with my face.  However, this is something I actually don't discuss with anyone, or on my blog, or in public life, much AT ALL.  That is because I hardly ever think about it.  I don't notice it most of the time.  I've had it my whole life, it's part of me, and I don't see it.  And almost everybody I know says the same thing.  If they've known me for a while, or my whole life, they tend to forget that my birthmark is "different" from anyone else's face; it's just ME.   It just occurred to me recently that I should share my story so that it might help someone else.  It really has never occurred to me before to talk about it. 

When I was about 11 years old, I was entering the phase of life when one starts to care what others think.  We don't realize when we are that age that everyone who has ever lived is probably self-conscious about something.  It could be their hair, their weight, glasses, braces, speech, it could be anything, or a number of things.  But when you have something that is a little more unusual, it really makes you stand out.  And I knew this well before I was 11.  I have been aware of it since kindergarten, when I passed a kid in the hall who said I had AIDS.  Seriously.  I haven't forgotten that since kindergarten.  Some things just stick with you.  Ignorance, my friends, is our worst enemy here.  And unfortunately, kids are too immature to understand just how cruel they can be.  My experience has been mostly wonderful, most people like to make me feel good by telling me I'm pretty with it, not in spite of it, but there have been many of those moments that made both my cheeks turn red hot, even still, to this day.  In elementary school I always remember this one school photographer that would turn me sideways to take my picture so it would hide my birthmark.  Once I was old enough to realize what happened, I was SO angry!  But I would have to say my least favorite is, "Did somebody hit you?" or, "Did you talk back to your husband?" or something along those lines.  Really?!  REALLY??!!

Ok, so back to when I was 11.  Somehow we found out about some makeup that was supposed to cover anything, including my birthmark.  My mom and I went to this place in Birmingham and they showed me the makeup and how to put it on my face.  I was so excited because we had open house at school that night for the coming year, and I was going to get to show off my new face!  Only...when I looked in the mirror after the makeup had been applied...I cried.  I couldn't really explain why at that moment, I don't think, because it came over me very suddenly.  But I remember thinking, this is NOT me!  I think I was more self-conscious about that, because I'm pretty sure when we got home, before open house, I washed it all off.  I never tried it again.

However, that wasn't the end of it.

Some time after that, when I turned 12, I thought it would be a good idea to remove it completely.  The makeup seemed like too much trouble and I didn't think it really hid it, just made it less visible, and more obvious that it was being "covered up".  So again, we ventured off to Birmingham, visiting with a plastic surgeon and trying to prove to insurance that it was "medically necessary" so they would pay for it.  Sometimes, when a birthmark surrounds an eyelid, the added pressure from the blood vessels can cause problems with the eye, like glaucoma.  I remember having the pressure in my eyes tested, and the right eye was indeed slightly higher than the left, but it wasn't high enough for glaucoma to be a concern at that point.  Eventually, we proceeded with the surgery (although, looking back I do not remember what the insurance outcome was, I was a kid!).  I went in for some test spots so they could determine what frequency to set the laser at for just the right effect to destroy the blood vessels.  Since it was only a few test spots (it was a lot to me!) I wasn't numbed or put to sleep, so I had to lay on my side and feel every prick of that laser.  It was like a little rubberband popping me on the face over and over, very hard.  It HURT.  And I was still such a kid that I was hugging a stuffed animal during the procedure (a raccoon, I remember!  I think I named him Woody...).  The aftermath was a bunch of round, circular bruises on my face, some light and some dark.  And we had to take pictures of them as they healed.  (Why, on earth, would I subject myself to this?  This is my adult self talking to my younger self!)

Yet again, I still went back for more.

After that experience, I guess I felt I had not subjected myself to enough torture.  Maybe I was just excited when I saw how my face did lighten underneath those spots.  I went in for the surgery during the summer, while I was out of school, so I would have time to heal before school started.  Because this would take many shots with the laser to cover the whole side of my face, I was put to sleep.  If you know me, you know my intense fear and hatred of needles.  (Again, what was I thinking?!)  I remember when they came in to start my IV, I was VERY upset.  I thought I had been told that I could have the gas to put me to sleep, because even though I was 12, I was still small enough.  They lied to me!  I started picking up my stuff and telling my mother we were going home.  But I had already committed to do this so I had to stay.  It took 4 hospital staff to convince me to get that needle in my arm, or hand, or wherever it was.  I don't remember anything after that.

The Post-Op Experience

I had so many little round, black bruises all over my face, it looked like one giant bruise.  Not only was it a bruise, it was also a burn.  My skin was burnt (this is a laser, after all).  I had to apply ointment to it several times a day.  My eyebrow above that eye was singed off (never has been the same since it grew back), and most of my lower lid eyelashes were singed into little black balls.  It was disgusting.  As it healed, (it took weeks, maybe 2 or more) it would itch and peel, kind of like a sunburn, but worse.  I don't think it was very painful, from what I remember, but I had to keep an ice pack on it all the time.  I really don't remember that much.  I know I was going into the seventh grade, and I was in the high school marching band for the first time, as a rookie.  We had several camps to attend that summer.  I had missed the first camp due to our family vacation (before surgery).  During the main marching band camp (after I healed), I had to wear lots of sunscreen, a sun visor, and sunglasses, to protect my face.  I looked like such a nerd (not that I wouldn't have anyway, lol)!   And of all things, there was a picture of us in the local newspaper and I was in it.  Horror!  But I don't guess I minded that much at the time.  However, this process stole a good bit of my summer, making me sit inside out of the sun while I healed, doing crossword puzzles and watching soap operas.  Sigh. 

Worst of all, it would take 9 TREATMENTS to completely remove it all.  9!!!!!!!!   There was no way in this world I was going to do that  EVER AGAIN!  I definitely learned my lesson.  Unfortunately, that is how we usually learn lessons when we are young:  the hard way.  Some of you may wonder, then, where was my mother during all this?  Why didn't she stop me from doing it?  Well, I'll tell you, she's an awesome mom.  No matter what big decisions I have made in my life, she has always supported me, even when she didn't agree (within reason, of course!).  I know she did not want me to go through that, but it was a big deal to me and she wanted me to be able to do what I felt I needed to do.  Let me assure you that I was very headstrong about this (as I am about most things) and we spent time researching this and talking to several doctors before coming to this big of a decision.  It was not made lightly (I'm just telling it from my childhood point of view, so don't freak out!).  I'm SO thankful that she raised me well enough to realize after just one treatment that being vain (in my opinion now I was being vain) was not worth the price I would have to pay.  This is one life lesson I am most thankful for my mom letting me experience, because it gave me a whole new outlook on my life and my self worth.  I don't think any of us realized at the time what implications that would have.

What I Learned

While I am thankful for that experience teaching me a lesson about who I am and who God created me to be, there is part of me that feels stupid for having tried to get rid of my birthmark.  But I am of the school of believing that everything happens for a reason, and we make mistakes in life to learn from them.  As long as I can learn from something, it's not in vain.  If I had never had that experience, I might not have learned how I really felt about myself on the inside, and that it was ok just to be me.  I totally got that down the road.  And my favorite idea is that maybe if I share it, someone else can learn from it too.  I know that most preteens, teenagers, and even young adults don't typically listen to our parental or most other adult advice (because I obviously didn't at that time in my life), but I do believe there are those out there who will listen.  When I first became a true Christian, later, at the age of 16, I know that Jesus changed my heart, and my whole life.  It has taken me a long time to actually see that there was a change (I just thought I was always good! lol)  but I now realize what exactly did change.  He gave me His eyes to see other people...and myself.  I learned empathy.  I finally realized what I said before, that everybody was going through something.  It suddenly became "cool" to be different and stand out in the crowd.  I learned from other people's mistakes (about some things), so I didn't drink alcohol or do drugs (never have, never will), nor did I engage in premarital affairs, so to speak.  My life began to have a greater purpose, and I began living for something.  And I had several friends who were like me.  That really helped (church is a very important support system!).  I had, and do still have, an awesome life, not perfect, but awesome!  Because I saw those things as a young person, I know there are probably some out there who will listen.  I am writing this for them.

My Purpose

I want people to read this story and learn something, not just about me, but about themselves, or their own children.  I want some young people to finally realize that it's not so important what everybody else sees or thinks about them.  Being different doesn't have to be a life sentence to ridicule and shame.  It is an honor and a blessing to have a particular calling in life.  We might be here to change somebody else's life for the better.  You never know until you try.  Because on the other side of this story, I have also had many people (though not as many) say that I was kissed by angels, or touched by God.  One thing for sure is that people don't typically forget me once they meet me.  They may not remember my name, but they usually remember my face (good or bad!).  I like to say as my answer to the questions sometimes that I was born this way, God made me this way for a reason, and I like me just the way I am because I was created special.    One of my newest reasons:  relating to my children.  They have things that make them different, and we have dealt with many stares and questions, and will probably continue to, just as my mother did with me.  I'm so thankful that I have the experience to relate to them and what they might feel in the future. 

You're special too, because God made us all unique for a reason.  If everyone was the same the world would be such a boring place!  Now go and share the love!