Birthmark Removal: Behind the Scenes

You would think that as Camden gets older, taking him to his birthmark removal treatments would get easier. That hasn't really been the case. Well, I no longer hide in storage closets and cry during the treatments, so there's improvement there.

Now that Camden is older, though, the heartbreaking look on his face as he reaches for me and screams "Mamaaaa!" while his hand is being treated is almost too much to bare. I have to make a conscious effort to stay seated and calm when all I really want to do is grab him, tell the doctor where to shove his laser machine, and run out of the room. For good. No more treatments.

But I don't. I remind myself that we're doing a good thing for Camden and that he'll (hopefully) appreciate it in the years to come. I tell myself that it's highly unlikely that he'll even remember the doctor, the hospital building, these treatments. And then I scoop him up in my arms the very second the laser is pulled away and I feel thankful for the two month break we get in between sessions.

But, you guys? It's working. Before his most recent session a week ago, Camden's birthmark was extremely faded. It probably wouldn't even be something that would catch the eye of a stranger who didn't know it was there in the first place. And Camden's doctor assures us that when all is said and done (in about 3-4 more sessions, hopefully), you will not even be able to tell which hand had the birthmark to begin with. Modern medicine and technology is pretty remarkable, is it not?

I documented our trip to the hospital last week because, as hard it is for both of us (make that all of us-- Matt and my mom have never missed a treatment session either), I want to remember. I want to see the progress. And I want to be able to show Camden one day.

These are his hands a couple of hours before we left for the treatment last week. His left hand is the one with the birthmark. You can still see it faintly, but notice how light it is.

He fell asleep on the car ride over. Normally, I would've woken him up since, much to my dismay, I've become one of those must-stick-to-our-schedule moms. But he looked so peaceful that I couldn't stand to disturb him.

At this point, the doctor had briefly stepped into the room to say hello before the treatment began. The tears started to flow the second he saw that doctor's familiar but unwelcome face and he clung to me like a little koala bear.

Here it is. The dreaded chair. Matt sits in the chair, Camden sits on Matt's lap, and an assistant covers Camden's eyes tightly with his hands (so that his eyes aren't damaged by the lasers). The rest of us in the room wear protective glasses. It's all over in 2 minutes, tops, but it feels like an eternity.

And here's the aftermath. The confusing thing for people who don't understand the way laser treatments work is that obviously his hand looked much better before the session than it does after (like in this picture). What people don't realize, though, is that those purple marks are bruises, not his birthmark. Those bruises take a few weeks to fade, but when they do, his birthmark will be even lighter than it was in the very first picture I posted. That's the plan anyway.

I find this picture both adorable and a little sad. Camden has become fascinated with "boo-boos" lately and will point out a scab if he skins his knee or will point to an old scar of mine frequently. When we came home from his appointment last week, I kept finding him like this: sitting quietly, staring at the bruising on his hand.

So, there you have it. A behind-the-scenes look at birthmark removal. I sincerely look forward to posting about his last treatment one day in the relatively near future.