Be honest: Have you ever worried about your kid's looks?

Now let me state for the record, I know what I am about to write is shallow, small, and silly. And, truly, it's not anywhere near the top of my list of new parent concerns. Above all else, I want my unborn daughter (due in just 4 weeks!) to be healthy and happy and smart and strong and curious and thoughtful and healthy and happy all over again. But the other night, lying in bed with nine-months-pregnant insomnia, something else occurred to me, something that is so shameful that I've hidden it back in a dark corner of my mind, lest it pop out awkwardly in conversation and reveal me to be the hideously trivial person I really am:

I wonder if my baby will be ugly.

I know, I know. It doesn't matter! I will love her no matter what! Obviously! However, if my daughter is unattractive, it will for sure be my fault.

For my baby shower a few weeks ago, my mother and my mother-in-law gathered up dozens of my husband's and my childhood photos and scattered them around the room. It was a cute party favor, and while looking at these images I realized two things:
1. My husband was one of those adorably blessed children, essentially beautiful from birth, well-proportioned and handsome through adolescence, and only hit an unappealing stage in his early 20s, when he decided to bleach his hair blond like Eminem and wear sweat bands not ironically.

2. I was NOT a cute baby. I had weirdly large, teenage-thug features, a faint mustache, and a head shaped like Herman Munster's. At the shower, I found photos where I seriously look like a tiny monster in a tiny sailor dress: "I am EVIL BABY! I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL! MUHAHA!" When I asked my dad about it, he admitted that even his boss at the time took a look at a picture of me and flat-out declared me ugly. Men!

The whole thing made me examine my own struggle with my appearance, the painful memories of being teased for being an awkward-looking adolescent, and how, honestly, I didn't really "come into my looks" until I was in my late 20s. This revelation made me pray that the tiny baby in my stomach takes after her dad, that she's gorgeous right out of the gate, and that no one ever mocks her for even the slightest imperfection in her appearance.

But then...I re-thought my position. The truth is, though life would've been easier if I'd been born looking like Shiloh, the years that I wasn't so cute made me a better, tougher, more sensitive, and interesting person. I'm grateful for them. And honestly, I feel "prettier" at 37 than ever before and that feeling has been totally worth the wait.

So I'm kind of resolved on the whole ugly-baby issue. Here's the question, though: Do all moms secretly worry about this stuff? If so, what do you do with the worry?