Mommy why am I different?

So there we are the two of us driving in to town to grab a few things to make with dinner and Ireland who is now heavy enough and tall enough to sit in the front seat cranks up the Kids Bop and suddenly looks at me and says "mommy why am I different?" I have to say this child surprises me in all kinds of ways from her determination to the funny comments she makes off side, but this I was not expecting. My first reaction was what do you mean why are you different we are all different from each other. If we were all the same this world would be a very boring place. Ireland who looked surprisingly sad said well some kids ask me why is your arm so purpley?, and why do you look like that?, are you contagious? I was a little shocked as Ireland has never really expressed too much insecurity about her appearance before to me. She then said Mommy I tell them its because I have CMTC and I am not contagious and its just the way I look.

Ireland then looks at me very sternly and asks again "Mommy why am I different?" I could only reply with what I had and that is that I don't know why. I wish at times I did know why and I think over and over again was their something I did differently when I was pregnant with Ireland that I did not do in my other pregnancies, and yet there is nothing I can think of.

I look at Ireland and tell her that she is different in some ways then other children and yet she is very similar to other children as well and that I do not know why she has CMTC and that I think she is beautiful and perfect in every way. Ireland laughs and says you have to say that cause your my momma and I tell her know if I thought she was different in a scary way or a bad way I would tell her. I then explain to her that when I had her, I knew right away she was a very special child, and that together, right from the day she was born we were on a journey together. I tell Ireland she is my angel and some how when we were connected together as she grew from within me something happened and that left the marks on her arm. Ireland then tells me that we must some secret super power and we would always be able to find each other because of our connection.

Later on as I lay in bed, my heart aches for any pain or discomfort she may have and the idea that anyone has ever made her feel less then perfect. I know that this is a part of childhood and growing up and children are more resilient then we all think and they actually handle these situation proabably better then we do but it still bothers me. I want her to know that being different is ok and that we are all different in our own ways, though they may not be as physically obvious as Irelands the differences are still there.