Dear Phoebe,
Today while I was rocking you to sleep in my arms I looked
at you in the mirror and what I saw caught me off guard—you have a cleft lip!
Now, I’m not blind. I know that you
have a cleft lip. I’ve known that you were going to be born with one ever since
you were 20 weeks old and still in my tummy. The thing is, I don’t think about
you that way. Your lip does not define you in my mind.
When I think of you, I don’t think of the gap in your lip or
the surgery you’re going to have to have. Instead, I think of the cute smiles
you make when you see me because you recognize me as “Mom.” I think of how you
giggle with Dad, how you love to be with people, or how you calm down when you watching
the ceiling fan. I think of how you get fussy sometimes at night or of how
sometimes you’ll get this shocked look on your face after you gas as if to say:
“Was that me?” I think of camping
with you, walking with you, shopping with you, visiting with you, driving with
you, laughing with you, loving with you, living with you. I think of so many
different things, but rarely do I think of your cleft.
I don’t know how “normal” you’ll look after your surgery in
a few months. I hope it goes well and that soon no one will be able to tell
that you were ever born looking different than most babies. But regardless of
how it turns out, I hope you also never define yourself by your lip, or any
other physical feature for that matter—good or bad. Our physical
characteristics may describe us, but
they do not define us or make us who
we really are. Who we are comes from
the inside, from things that last. I hope that instead of defining yourself by
the shape of your lip you define yourself by the size of your heart. I hope
that instead of measuring yourself by the height of your head you measure
yourself by the strength of your character. I hope that instead of listening to
the lies of Satan that you listen to the whisperings of the Holy Ghost and
remember that no matter what, you are always a child of God.
The way you see yourself will determine, in large measure,
where life takes you. Instead of going down a road of self-pity and
self-consciousness, I want you to live life with confidence and love. The less
you focus on yourself and the more you focus on others, the happier you will
be. So instead of introducing or thinking of yourself as “the girl with a scar
on her lip because she was born with a cleft,” I want you to introduce yourself
as “Phoebe Esther Self” without stopping to explain or justify. Just be your best Self, do good, and people will see the real you without you having even said a word. As President
Monson says, the future is as bright as your faith. I hope you make yours a
bright one.
Love,
Mom
