So it finally happened… Luca injured himself enough to warrant a trip to emergency. I am shattered.
The culprit…. This guy
The sound of his face smacking the tiles is still embedded in my head. Makes me feel sick. He pushed his two front teeth up into his gums so high that his cheeky smile is gone.
Had I have not been googling “did Steven Avery really do it?” I may have seen him and been able to stop him. Mum guilt at its finest. Feeling like shit.
We get to emergency and the dental surgeon explains its better for us to have them removed as they may impact his adult teeth and he’s at risk for infection. My mind is racing, “ahhhh” I say… How the hell can I make the decision to remove his teeth without his permission? I feel horrible. I suppose I have to do what’s best for him, but am I even adult enough to know what that is?
“Okay let’s do it”
I start to visualise him going through primary school singing “all I want for Christmas…” How will he get the chicks??? Maybe I can stick some falsies onto him. At least he will eventually have teeth, it could be worse right? Although it doesn’t feel like it.
Sitting in emergency watching the clock tick down until 12:45. He is going under and having them removed – yuk. I am so petrified. Part of the post natal depression is that you’re always fearing the worse, although I think that’s every mothers worse fear; something going wrong. I want to comfort eat but I feel so sick too. So conflicted #firstworldproblems
He’s restless but the fish are keeping him entertained.
Or rather keeping me entertained. Ironically there are 4 other kids here with the exact same problem. Seems last night was the night for smacking your teeth. Full moon for teeth.
I feel bad because I feel it’s my fault but it should make me feel better that we aren’t the only ones. I also think that being a mother of a super hyper kid, that it won’t be the last trip I make here.
After some time we are called up and Luca is taken away. We make the decision that hubby (Dom) will hold him while they put him under with the gas. The look on Doms face when he returns is heartbreaking and I know it wasn’t pretty to see him going under the general anaesthetic, I am glad it wasn’t me. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for parents whose children who are undergoing heart surgery or something extreme. It would be heartbreaking and scary.
We wait around and they eventually call to say he’s done. Him coming to was awful. He looked confused and was crying. I started crying too. It’s traumatic to see your child this way. He becomes calm and we are given the all clear to go home… I am exhausted.
I am so sad that he has to wait till he’s 6 or 7 to see his teeth, he only just got them at 15 months, he didn’t even get to experience them, and I feel responsible. I know it’s not my fault but to tell you the tooth (I gotta make a joke somewhere) you will always feel responsible for anything that goes wrong for your child.
What a day. Luca is still all smiles though, even if he is toothless.