A Little Something for Myself

When I was 23, largely on impulse, I got a piercing - a navel piercing. I know today that doesn't sound particularly interesting as it's become pretty mainstream. In fact, navel piercings are nearly standard for most of my daughter's "bathing" Barbies. But 10 years ago, a navel piercing, at least around here, really was kind of cutting edge. At the time I didn't know anyone personally who had one. I loved everything about it: the rush of getting it done, how it looked, the way I would fiddle with it when I was nervous or bored. It was a constant reminder of a core part of my personality that I often tried to suppress: my impulsiveness, spontaneity, intensity.

Six years later, I was married and became pregnant with my first child. On my very first appointment with the OB, the doctor looked at my navel ring and said, "That's gonna have to come out." I played the trusting and obedient patient and immediately took the ring out; whatever was best for my unborn child, that's what I was going to do of course. I look back now and wonder what possible physical, medical reason there could be that would mandate a navel ring to come out. I'm no MD, but surely this tiny flap of navel skin has absolutely nothing to do with my uterus, but I figured he knew better than I did. Besides, I reasoned, if I didn't take it out and let the hole close up immediately, as my stomach grew, so might the piercing hole. I figured if I took it out right away, it would close up just as discreetly as an earring piercing would. Again, I'm no MD.

I had child one, then child two, and I never put the navel ring back in. So it closed up, but because of the ever-changing shape of my belly during pregnancies, my piercing mark became a much more noticeable scar than I had hoped.

Ever since I had my second child and was fairly certain that she would be my last, I've been contemplating getting my navel repierced. Yes, I know that I'm now in my mid-30s, a mother of two in suburbia; I'm no kid, I get it. I realize many in my demographic have outgrown navel piercings, especially since it has become so mainstream that I've seen 14-year-olds with them. But as was the case with the first piercing, my reason behind doing it was not to follow some trend. I liked everything about the piercing, and I'd rather have the piercing than the scar that the first left behind.

So I did it. About a month ago, I was meeting some girlfriends for an innocent evening out, and on a whim I asked my friend if we could make a stop at the tattoo parlor on our way out. I didn't even tell my husband I was getting it repierced. It was a rush getting it done, and I love it. However, my oldest daughter (4) does not. The first time she saw it, she gasped, covered her eyes, and gasped again on a second look. Then came the tears, and she begged and pleaded for me to take it out. You have to remember, any kind of piercing is foreign to her. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had to take my earrings out when she was just two because her new sister has a penchant for pulling on earlobes. The piercings my daughter has seen on her Barbies are not a true representation of what a piercing, even an ear piercing, really looks like either. It startled her to see a steel rod poking through a piece of her mother's skin. At least I thought that was the primary cause for her protests and alarm.

My daughter's tears and pleading turned into a full-fledged fit, so her father tried to intervene and console her. We explained that it didn't hurt Mommy and that it was just like her Barbies' earrings and belly buttons. We kept asking her to explain why she was so upset. Finally, when she could regain her voice in between her cries, she said, "I'm sad because now I don't match Mommy."

It was one of the sweetest things I have ever heard. Everyone has always told her that she looks just like me, and she does. And she prides herself on telling people that "we match." The piercing, in her eyes, distorted our likenesses, I guess, separated us in a way. And she didn't like it.

The mother in me immediately wanted to take it out to appease my daughter if it upset her this much, but the drowning individual in me beckoned me to keep it in. I listened to the latter for once. I realized that the older I get, the more of who I am as an individual is getting lost in the "mother, the "wife," the "professional." Sure, I am all of those things and I cherish them all, but in becoming those, I don't want to lose what makes up"me" at the core; in fact, I think it would be a detriment to my family if I did. I am still vivacious, spirited, and spontaneous (although more cautiously so, if that's possible), and if this navel ring reminds me of that in some small way, if it keeps me in touch with that part of me that age and responsibility doesn't often afford anymore, well then I think it needs to stay put.

I understand my daughter's desire to be a reflection of her mother, and believe me, that is the single biggest compliment I can ever receive in my entire life. And I know that her interest in being like mom will probably disappear all too quickly. But I also want to instill a value of individuality and sense of self in my girls, and I can't instill that in them if I stifle it in myself.

I'm just wondering how my daughter will react when she sees the tattoo I am planning.