Extraction

Bronwyn has returned. The changeling that took her place for a while seems to have gone back to its lair...or maybe it is just waiting for the next time. Over the weekend her gum became more and more painful and swollen. She tried hard to be stoic, but it was making her miserable. By Monday we had convinced her that the dentist would need to take out the tooth. She agreed, but said she didn't want to go until she was ready. On Wednesday she was ready. I think it is good that the appointment was in the morning so that I could stress it was only a small part of the day and we could make plans for the rest of the day. When we arrived at the dentist she told him that she wanted him to extract her tooth. Despite her fear she did not waiver. Although she was terrified of the "pincher" (the injection), she was so brave that I was in awe. She asked to see all the equipment, and refused to have the TV on. There was some screaming as the injection went in...but no one held her down and once it was done she was fine. In fact she seemed quite curious about the whole extraction process. She told me off for saying "yank" instead of "extraction". Afterwards it was off to Toyrus for the latest piece of plastic; Zoobles. I know I previously vowed NEVER to darken the door of that toy hell-hole, but I needed to use Zoobles as a bribe positive reinforcement. The difference in her demeanor is amazing. Our happy little girl is back.

At the last visit to Dr. Klein there were some balloons around. Apparently it was his birthday. Bronwyn asked, "How old are you?" The dentist replied, "Oh, I've stopped counting. In fact, I've decided to start counting backwards." Bronwyn looked at him matter-of-factly, "Hah, well you're never going to be young again," she said. Dr. Klein visibly winced before agreeing that was indeed the truth.

So perhaps I can rest easy for a while. I felt so bad for her when she was in so much pain and saw her sad swollen little face. And of course I worried. And blamed myself for not brushing her teeth enough, for giving her too much candy and sweet stuff, for not teaching her to floss; for simply not being better. Then there were the other worries...maybe it was something serious. Maybe I'd neglected the signs of something serious. Scary visions flashed through my mind of sitting by a hospital bed...of all the worse that can happen. When I became a mother I was completely unprepared for the intense fear that comes with having children. In the early days this fear was almost debilitating. There were dreads and terrors that I constantly struggled to keep at bay. I couldn't even speak them out loud. I think it's gotten a little better over time...some days anyway. This poem seems to capture the essence of that fear.

Having Children

A siren goes by,
the scream cuts through me
even though my child is home.
For a moment I think...

Where am I?
In the middle of the night
a cry, dreamed
or heard, a wave washes
over the body of my child.
I have let her drown

or fall. She has fallen
from a high balcony
and I have let it happen.
Negligence. I feel
as if I'm plummeting...

Oh let this be a dream.
I'll be better next time.
I'll watch, I'll watch, I'll watch.

Barbara Tanner Angell, from The Long Turn Toward Light. (Taken from The Writer's Almanac).