And the Hits Just Keep On Coming!

What is it with mosquitoes and my son?

You may recall that last week, Judah had a bonafide shiner as a result of a bug bite. The day after the first biting offense, he was bitten again in exactly the same spot.

Insult, here's some injury for you: last night, while we were playing in the sandbox, I noticed a mosquito sitting in EXACTLY that same spot on Judah's face--right by his eyeball. I brushed it away, but it was too late, because the damage was already done: yet another bite, yet another shiner. But this one has swelled so much that I think his vision is slightly obstructed. Seriously--short of rubbing bug spray directly into his eyes, I'm not sure what I can do to prevent the mosquitoes from snacking on my child.

On a slightly related note, this isn't the first time Judah has had lumpy eyes. Judah was born with two plugged tear ducts. We thought it looked a little funny the day he was born, but who wants to admit their child looks strange when they've only just met him? (This isn't the best picture, because it was his left duct that was the most plugged and, consequently, the most misshapen, but just note that his nose is not in the way of your seeing his left eye. It's the lump.) But the day after, when we asked the doctor about it, she confirmed the plugged duct theory. Apparently, it is quite common for this to happen, but Judah's case was a bit more severe--he actually had a little lump next to his eye, which is not normal. Our pediatrician referred us to an Ophthalmologist, who looked at it for about 10 seconds before referring us to an ocular plastic surgeon. He said that it was a plugged duct the likes of which he sees perhaps once every ten years. In a normal case, the doctor could probe (or lance, I guess)the plug, thereby freeing it--a simple procedure done in the office--but this lump was not normal. My fear was realized when the surgeon we had been referred to told us we'd have to operate. He immediately set up a date for my precious little boy to go under the knife--almost exactly three months after he was born. He'd respond better to the general anesthesia when he had a little more weight on him, they said.

In the meantime, they gave us some eye ointment to stave off infection, told us to wipe the ever-present goop from his eyes regularly, to use a damp cloth to ease off the crust when he woke in the morning, and to rub it. Rub the lump. Massage Judah's eyeball, in effect.

Like any mother would be, I was thorough and disciplined in what treatment I could give. I wiped goop with the best of 'em. I rubbed that kid's eye until I thought I might press it permanently into his skull. I knew that if this lump persisted into his adolescence and adulthood, we'd have some issues to help him work through, but we'd love him just the same. And even though his face was shaped a little funny, I still thought he was absolutely beautiful.

Then, one morning, it all changed.

Judah was up before Charis, as usual. I dampened a washcloth with warm water for my morning ritual of wiping and massage, but when I began to rub, I noticed that it felt different than normal. Something was different.

The lump was gone.

I looked and looked to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me, but it was true: the plug had apparently passed. And for the first time, I was looking at Judah and knowing what he looked like--for real. I would have loved the lumpy Judah every stitch as much had he remained lumpy, but seeing him lump-free took my breath away. He was the most beautiful little boy I had ever seen, more beautiful than I imagined he could be. Of course, I called Abe and all the grandmas and aunties and uncles to tell them the news. Here's a picture taken the day the lump went away:

What a stud.

Of course, now the mosquitoes have taken to munching on him, so we're back to lumpy Judah. But he's still the most beautiful little boy I have ever seen.