Mom gives birth, then nurses realize he isn’t a baby. A baby boy with thick black hair has become the newest member of a werewolf family. According to legend, the arms, face and back of the unidentified child are covered in a thick layer of black hair that will become coarser as he grows older.
Furthermore, Monisha Sambaji Route, 22, from Poon in central India, is heartbroken that her baby has inherited the same genetic disease that has plagued her for most of her life. I’ve always felt terrible when I looked in the mirror, and now I’m worried about how my child will cope with the same trauma, she explained.
My sisters and I were constantly tormented, and we were given nicknames such as ghost, bear and monkey. I’m brokenhearted knowing that my son would have to go through the same anguish and suffering that I went through.
The five month old baby boy, who has not yet been named, has acquired a rare gene from Monisha’s father, which makes him a carrier of the gene. There is currently no known cure for werewolf syndrome, also known as hypertrocosis, Universalis or universal hair loss. It is so rare that only one person in a billion is affected by it.
I was overjoyed when I gave birth to a son, but I was devastated when I discovered he had the same disease as me, Manisha continued. I was completely shattered. I began to question whether I had been cursed or whether I had made a mistake in life for which God was punishing me and my son. However, he is my child and I will love him and care for him unconditionally in the same manner that my mother cared for me, no matter how he seems. It was an arranged marriage that brought Monisha and her husband, Vitall, 30, together on May 25 last year.
They’re now happy to be parents, but Monisha’s motherinlaw is heartbroken about the situation of her grandson, who is a sweet stall owner. My husband is really supportive and devoted to his son, but my mother in law is not pleased, Manisha continued. She constantly is complaining about how he isn’t good or that he isn’t a beautiful kid, she said. He is unsightly and has the appearance of a monkey. My feelings are wounded and angered, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
Manisha and her two sisters, Savita, 30, and Citri, 19, made international news in 2012 when they were arrested for allegedly stealing a car. As a result, they visited with doctors and discovered a hair removal cream that they can apply for every four days to get rid of their excess facial hair. My mother in law has already forced me to use the same cream on my child, but his skin is too sensitive for it, she continued. He’s a small baby who is not yet ready to be exposed to such creams. He screamed in agony as his flesh turned bright red.
Monisha is now resolved to provide her child with a pleasant childhood and to guarantee that he does not suffer from bullying as she and her sisters did. My only wish is that my child will grow up to be a normal child, she concluded. I hope he’s accepted into a school and has given all of the opportunities that other children are given.
I don’t want him to go through what I had to do and my sisters have gone through our childhood was horrible and we were institutionalized because people couldn’t cope with the way we appeared. I can only hope that people would be more understanding and compassionate towards my son.
In another similar story, a mother’s fears as her daughter inherits the rare werewolf syndrome. I grinned as I sank back into my bed. Weary. The cries of my newborn daughter filled the room. How is she doing?
As I watched my mother cradle my infant in my arms, I mumbled something. A rush of anxiety washed over me when she didn’t respond. What if my child inherited our family’s lifethreatening illness? Monisha, now 19, and Cbitri, 17, are my two younger sisters, and we all have a rare illness called werewolf syndrome, commonly known as hypertrichosis Universalis. We have long hair all over our bodies, which has forced us to live as recluses and forced us to wear head to toe tunics whenever we had to go out to avoid outsiders pointing at us or making fun of us.
Now I was staring at my mother, Anita, who was holding my daughter, waiting for her to say everything was fine. Silence. I tried to capture her attention, but she appeared to be avoiding it. How is she doing? Mother?
Nerves jangling through my body, I repeated. Please let me know that my little baby is doing well. She looked at me with her eyes elevated. They were dripping with tears, which I noticed. She’s like you, she whispered softly, taking my hand.
I burst into tears heartbroken. Give her to me, I said. I’m looking for my daughter. I stretched out my arms in front of me, staring at the small newborn covered in a white sheet. She was already sound sleep and appeared to be in a wonderful condition.
I gently moved the sheet away from her tiny body and discovered that she was completely covered in velvety black hair from head to toe. Not you either, I muttered as I stroked the back of her hand. I could imagine what she would have to go through and how difficult her life would be. I’ll be here for you, I assured her as I knelt down to kiss her. Would it, however, be sufficient?
I’d been born with black hair, just like my daughter. Two of my sisters had done the same. My father had the hereditary ailment and had handed it down to us when he died in 2007. There was no cure, and the only way to get rid of the hair was to use hair removal lotion every day. But the problem wasn’t only with the hair.
Our looks were also distinctive, with big noses and wide faces. Mother, on the other hand, constantly expressed her love for us, and I would do the same for my daughter. But it wouldn’t be simple. The hair that covered me got longer and coarser. As I grew older, my sisters and I were shunned by our society.
In Western India, we used to stay inside, never going to school or playing outside because we were afraid of being called names and laughed at. People used to scream and shout, Here come the animals whenever we stepped outside, whether for a doctor’s appointment or to see relatives. Please, Mama, I would beg, don’t send us to school, please. The Taunts are too much for us. It was more comfortable to stay in the familiar settings of our family in the house.
Fortunately, we have three more sisters who are normal Swathi 23, Dapali 21, and Lakhshimi, 14. They have always been a big source of support for us, but they never will really comprehend our suffering. Mother used to cover us in long tunics with only our eyes visible when we had to venture out to protect us.
Alternatively, she would take shortcuts through abandoned lanes, but as soon as somebody noticed us, the entire village would come out to stare or humiliate us. The physicians informed us that there are just a few hundred cases of werewolf syndrome on the globe and prescribed hair removal cream.
It was a time consuming procedure, as we had to apply the lotion virtually every day, but it was effective. My sisters and I, on the other hand, were too embarrassed and scared to leave the house. As the years passed, I became increasingly concerned that I would never be able to marry and start a family of my own. We’ll find you a good spouse, my mother promised frequently, but I didn’t believe her. After all, who would marry me?
I used to think. But after my father died of a heart disease, my mother, who was working as an assistant in a local healthcare center, vowed to find me a decent husband. Millend Monar Karande. His family was pals with other villagers who were aware of my predicament. His parents agreed, but I wasn’t sure if he was aware of it.
I couldn’t inform Melinda, 29, about my illness, since it was an arranged marriage, but I couldn’t meet him beforehand because it was an arranged marriage. In May of 2012, we tied the knot on my wedding day. I couldn’t contain my joy. It was all I had hoped for. After all, I was embarking on a new adventure.
Milan and I didn’t know one another, but we both trusted and believed in our parents’judgment and decisions. Milan was partially sighted, but when he touched my arm, he inquired as to know why I had such hairy skin. It’s not like other people, he explained. He was quite kind when I mentioned my inherited problem. I was pleased to have married such a considerate man.
I moved in with Milland and his parents in the next town, and life quickly settled into a routine of regular housework and caring for my husband and inlaws I was overjoyed. My mother, on the other hand, was always concerned about me. She texted and called me all the time. Are you all right? How do your neighbors treat you?
Has someone been mean to you? She inquired. She was afraid that my new community would reject me and begin to verbally abuse me. I was also concerned that my adult life might begin to resemble my childhood, but happily, no one was hurt when I came out. There were some evident glances and finger pointing, but it was nothing compared to the trauma I had endured as a youngster.
And best of all, I was pregnant within a few months. I’m expecting a baby, I said over the phone to my mother finally. My fantasies are coming true, but we all knew the truth. There was a good likelihood that this baby would be born with the same problem as his or her siblings. I prayed every day that she wouldn’t be the one to inherit it, but there was nothing I could do about it.