Ever since my first pregnancy, I’ve noticed odd skin colored bumps on my face.  A little family of them moved to that weird area just between my cheek and my nose.  When I gave birth for the first time two years ago, the husband and wife skin colored bump did too.  Where I, however, just welcomed one baby – the skin colored bump family brought home triplets.

I didn’t think much of it, at first.  I assumed it was a form of pregnancy mask – the hormone induced facial that turns your cheeks, nose and forehead all brown and splotchy.  As if throwing up all over yourself, gaining 50 pounds, and calcium being sucked out of every bone in your body isn’t enough fun, mother nature wants to play that joke on you too.

Usually, I can take a good gag, but when I had my second baby and the bump family had their fourth, fifth, and sixth- I wasn’t laughing.

I hoped The Bumps, as I now not-so-fondly call them, would move out when the pregnancy mask did.  They didn’t.  In fact, I think they bought a dog, a flat screen TV, and a new leather couch.  They weren’t going any where any time soon, so I hoped I could evict them with a trip to the dermatologist. 

I waited six weeks for the appointment.  I wanted to see a ‘good’ dermatologist, so when I was referred to someone a friend of mine called ‘the best’, I was willing to wait.  When the day came, I was the perfect patient:  I arrived on time, I filled out all the paper work, I waited calmly for the nurse to call my name.  As I sat on the paper sheet covering the exam couch, I hoped the dermatologist could help.

When she walked in, she took a close and careful look at The Bumps.  She examined them thoroughly and thoughtfully, before asking ‘Are those them?’  

‘Yes, those are them,’ I replied. 

 ’You really have to look closely to see them,’ She said.  ‘No one but you probably even notice them.’

‘Well,’ I was getting a smidge irritated, ‘I notice them.  What are they?’

‘They’re skin colored moles,’ She so calmly said.  I actually think she rolled her eyes at me just a little bit, too – but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

‘It means you’re stuck with them.” She said.

‘I’M STUCK WITH THEM?!?’ I freaked.  ‘I don’t want to be stuck with them.  They just grew on my face and there’s nothing I can do about it?’

‘As you get older,’ she seriously informed me, ‘all sorts of stuff happens to your body and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

After that little nugget of information, she asked if there was anything else and then walked out of the room. 

Since then, I’ve noticed she’s right.  I seem to keep asking myself, ‘What the hell is that?’  When did the varicose veins pop up on the sides of my legs?  When did the little strands of grey weave through my hair?  When did losing 10 pounds become impossible?

I turn 35 in four months.  I realize I’m not getting any younger and I guess I have to accept the changes my body is making.  I tell you what though, I’m not doing it without a fight.  I’ll be asking ‘What the hell is that?’ every step of the way.  And I swear, if The Bump family have any more kids, I’ll get them to move out of the neighborhood one way or another.  Lazar resurfacing would make for a perfect eviction notice.

Related posts:

1. It Was a Rough Day Today. A Rough One.
2. Do You See What I See?

Tags: bumps, dermatologist

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