WHEN I WAS FIVE YEARS OLD, I BROKE MY NOSE
in a backyard accident that involved a picnic bench, an old swing set, and a face plant. Several doctors later, I learned my broken nose required surgery that could be done only after
my face had stopped growing. When that happened, in my teens, post-secondary decisions and travel plans took priority over tracking
down an ear, nose, and throat specialist. But then my face started growing again — when I got pregnant. My face swelled up so much, I looked like a whale. Looking back at photos of me and my newborn, I mentally crop
out the chubby rolls around my postpartum smile. Those photos got me wondering about my deviated septum. I notice that there’s an indent on one eyelid and that my eyebrows are asymmetrical, as if I’m always raising an inquisitive brow. I build my case for surgery. It’s not cosmetic surgery if it was recommended back in kindergarten, right? Maybe I would sleep,
sing, and swim better. Maybe even look better. I got a referral and made plenty of notes about my “condition.” I arrived at my appointment ready to fight, but my doctor was disarming. He took one look at me and told me the nose looked
pretty good. He literally told me to suck it up. Now I’m pregnant again and thinking about big things like the health of my unborn child — plus, I’d rather my kids see me with a double chin than wrapped in bandages.
~ By Dayanti Karunaratne