I was absentmindedly scraping some cradle cap off Eleanor's head tonight, and when I paused to admire the shiny pink skin I had unearthed, I realized I had removed all the hair in the area as well. I am trying not to feel bad about this. She already has a large bald spot on the back of her head that has grown from a quarter sized spot to a $20 bill. Her hair is everywhere. It's on her sheets, on her gown, in my mouth and in my hands. She's on her way to being a card-carrying cancer baby. But it seems that all the hair that grew because of the excessive cortisol and testosterone is less inclined to fall out in my hands. She is going to be the only cancer baby with big sideburns and a hairy back. I kind of love the hair on her back. It's so downy soft, and coupled with her squishy fat skin, makes for all kinds of wonderful cuddles.
It crossed my mind that I should just go to town on her scalp and get rid of all the cradle cap, and if all her hair falls out, so be it. But I can't do it. Even though it's just baby hair, and tons of babies don't have hair or it grows in like Friar Tuck, I am still sad to see it go. She was born with a full head of dark hair, just like her mummy. I fully expected her to be bald, but lo and behold, out she came, a raven-haired angel. It was like a covenant between us; she was really mine. Ah, evolution! "She looks like me, so I am less inclined to eat her." As she has gotten older, it has been growing in lighter and now shines gold in the sunlight. It's really lovely hair, but it is a bit silly to lament over it. I was just taken unawares that it would go so soon.
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