R.I.P Birthmark

I have been having the hardest time updating this blog lately. 2013 has found us Siegs indoors for the most part, due to various bouts of colds and flu bugs. Boo. But that hasn't been for at least a month now so I really have to get on the blogging ball again! 

To start off, I will update you all on the most pressing matter in our lives. Mason's arm. See, all three of my little men got my birthmark gene (which I'll take any day over the brittle bone gene that they could have inherited!) but Mason's birthmark was starting to change into a rather large and in charge mole. Since it was only getting bigger, we agreed with his doctor that it was time to say good-bye. However, because it was so big, it was also decided that a surgeon would have to perform the surgery and that our little Mason would have to be put under for the procedure. Yikes! 

Even though Mason is quite the fan of his pops, he opted to have his mommy accompany him for the big hospital adventure and so together we headed out to the hospital at 5am on March 28th. As we drove over, I asked Mason how he was feeling and he said that he wasn't scared, but that he was sad to lose his birthmark. As weird as it sounds, I knew exactly how he felt since I was a little sad to see it go, too.

 However, once we got checked into his very own room on the pediatric floor and found his very own adjustable hospital bed, all sorrow left and was replaced with large amounts of glee! Mason scrambled from one button to the next and nearly folded the bed in two! He was in hog heaven!

I love his little President Hinckley lip in this shot. Proof that he was thrilled with his pampering.

The hospital staff were wonderful and the surgery went well (even though it went about 40 minutes longer than they expected and I was starting to worry a smidge for my favorite Mason. It gave me even more respect for parents who have to wait for children in surgery for real problems.) and before we knew it, Mason was snuggled up in his special bed again. However, this time he was a little bit to snoozy to do anything but sleep and listen to me read Harry Potter.

 I absolutely adore this little man.

Mason was unfailingly brave throughout the whole process, even with his big wound.

 Especially since he was awarded three wonderful bears to share with his two biggest fans:

Okay, from here one, I have to warn you, it gets a little gross. Everything seemed to be going fine until this last Sunday Mason showed us his arm. It was starting to turn a little yellow at the base and we could see the stitches were coming undone. We called the on-call doctor and he had us come in the following afternoon. However, even during that short amount of time, the incision got even worse and opened halfway up. He told us that at this point there was nothing to do besides take out the stitches and let it heal from the inside out. So after fishing out two three-inch long sutures, he sent us home with orders for me to keep it dry and clean. Yelp!

I thought it was pretty gross but it was nothing compared to what we woke up to the next morning. Mason wandered into our bedroom and said, "Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?" (since James says this from time to time.) We opted for the bad news first, to which Mason presented his arm and showed us that it opened up all the way. ALL THE WAY!!! After several more phone calls to the nurse, I was again told that there was nothing to do but let it heal into one big huge manly scar. 

So in the meantime, we get to hang out with this thing:

Head-wound Harry would be proud

Yuck!!! So anyway, nothing life threatening, but seriously disgusting and disconcerting all the same. Thank goodness this mole wasn't on his face since the wonders of modern medicine seem to be beat right now.