My words are so tightly bound that the act of writing is painful. I have missed the release that this act brings. And so I will attempt to unwind my stories and emotions. I will smooth them out and wipe off whatever smudges my tears may have caused. This has been the most difficult and grounding year of my life. I have wanted to tell the story of Jehryn's teeth for many months. I needed to find a resolution before I was ready to share. It is a subject that has caused me fear, shame, and a lot of anxiety. But it is a tale that needs to be told.
When Jehryn was around eight months old, one of his front, central top teeth chipped. We still don't know how it happened. At that stage he was pulling up on things and falling over a lot. He was also chewing on everything. I recall the morning I noticed it. Sean also had not seen it until I pointed it out. It was a small chip, but it still warranted a dentist visit. The dentist smoothed it down, checked his mouth out in less than 30 seconds and sent us home with fluoride to paint on periodically. He was an older man who would not give me eye contact. He brushed off my concern about his enamel being weak. The next day Jehryn bumped his teeth on a chair and chipped the other front central top tooth. We went back to the dentist and once again he smoothed it down and pushed fluoride. Although we have a lot of qualms about the chemical, we painted it on at least twice. I remember feeling lost. Both Sean and I were relatively quiet about Jehryn's teeth. We asked a few close family members and friends, but most seemed shocked and confused. I didn't blame them. It still feels surreal to me.
We had begun brushing his teeth when he started eating solid food at 6 months. I had asked natural minded parents about toothpaste and their experiences. Our doctor recommended a non-fluoride toothpaste. A few people told us coconut oil, others said water. So after his two front teeth had been chipped and smoothed down, we continued to brush in the evening before bed. But his teeth got worse. They started to chip and crumble. I remember the third or fourth time they chipped. I handed Jehryn to Sean and screamed. I punched the closest object--the pack n play--and fell to the floor, sobbing. I knew this was not right. Teeth should not fall apart! I took him in to the dentist because his jagged teeth were cutting my nipples, making nursing a pain and pumping at work excruciating. At one point I developed mastitis which is a breastfeeding mother's worst nightmare. Our dentist stated that there was decay during Jehryn's third visit, when he was 13 months. He wanted to try to build up the teeth with a composite material. This dentist had always been difficult to communicate with. I felt conflicted about his solution, and began to seek out other options. I reached out to my midwife's Facebook community and was referred to a dentist in Muncie. The second dentist's opinion was to schedule a procedure at the only hospital nearby, put Jehryn under general anesthesia, perform multiple root canals, and affix four porcelain crowns. That decision felt so heavy. My judgement was clouded by fear and anxiety. I wanted this problem fixed and appreciated this dentist's clear communication. So, we began to save up money for the procedure.
Thankfully, Sean and his mom had a conversation about the hospital and their concerns. When he approached me, I was shocked and thrown off. It took me a couple of days to admit that the whole crown procedure would be invasive and possibly unnecessary. We drug our feet for a couple weeks, feeling overwhelmed with the situation. I began visiting the Cure Tooth Decay website regularly. I cried a lot. I winced every time I brushed his teeth. I knew it was hurting him. I tried to be gentle. He cried. The guilt was so intense and the path was unclear. I felt like we had no control over the situation, but were still to blame. The second weekend in April, we decided we would call Riley hospital the following Monday. It was where we had taken Jehryn for his ECG. Our plan was to ask for a dentist referral. That weekend, I visited my friend Jen and brought her up to date on Jehryn's situation. She told me about her children's pediatric dentist who operates out of a nearby hospital. The dentist sounded open-minded and great with kids, so I called and made an appointment. There are two dentists who operate out of the office. The first dentist evaluated Jehryn, and told me extraction was probably the best solution. It was a shock to hear, but I felt better about it than the other two previous opinions. This dentist's older colleague ended up being the one to perform the procedure. She interviewed us over the phone two days beforehand and explained that she would do all she could to save his teeth, if possible. She also spoke with Jehryn's doctor and read every word of his ECG report from last summer. She gave us her home and cell phone numbers in case we had questions. We felt like Jehryn's needs were truly being put first.
The day of the procedure, we woke up early and headed to the hospital. I was anxious, but relieved that we had found a solution. Jehryn was laughing and playing with toys just seconds before they took him back for an X-ray. I will never forget the fear and confusion in his eyes when I handed him to the hygenist. This office is incredible, but I have regrets about allowing them to wrap him in a papoose board. Looking back, I would have insisted that I hold him. But in that moment, I was a mess emotionally and did not feel that I had the option. About fifteen minutes after Jehryn had left my sight, the dentist met with us and explained what was happening. She had used a local anesthetic and he was calm and watching a train movie. She had removed the decay from all four teeth in hopes of being able to save them. All four nerves were exposed, however, so she had no choice but to extract them. I had known this would be the case, but still broke into tears. It was over in minutes, and we were reunited with our brave son. When we entered the room, he was sitting on the hygenist's lap quietly. As soon as he saw me, he reached out and wailed. I can only imagine all the things he wanted to ask me, tell me, yell at me.
Children are resilient. During this challenging time, people have said that to me. They are right. After a good long cry and a two hour nap, our little bug bounced back. He began laughing more, eating more, sleeping better. His gums healed completely within 8 days. Initially, it was painful for me to even look at his gummy grin. I felt an enormous load of guilt. A few weeks later, I am in love with that gappy smile. He is happy and healthy. And I am doing all I can to correct whatever imbalance caused this. His two bottom central teeth have developed a slight discoloration. Our dentist referred to it as the very early stage of decay. She felt confident that the teeth would not get worse as long as we brush thoroughly twice a day. Along with a rigid tooth brushing schedule and the daily application of MI paste, I have implemented some changes to his diet including grassfed organ meats, raw grassfed milk, and fermented cod liver oil. In fact, this tooth journey has really pushed me into the world of traditional food. This blog will soon be taking a whole new direction, mirroring my current kitchen dancing and health research.
Even though the worst has passed, I haven't fully recovered from this event. It still hurts to talk about it, even if it is with mothers who have had similar experiences. I have avoided telling a lot of our friends and family, simply because I am tired of it breathing the same words again and again. I am tired of the shocked gasps, endless questions and hypotheses, especially the one which blames nighttime breastfeeding. Don't even get me started on that. Soon enough, there will be questions from strangers who may be curious about his missing teeth. In a year or two, we will be dealing with the procedure of attaching false teeth in order to help guide his permanent ones in. If there is one sure thing about parenting, it is that there will always be something to worry about. And so I will do my best to release my fears into the Universe and trust that wisdom and peace will continue to flow.
When Jehryn was around eight months old, one of his front, central top teeth chipped. We still don't know how it happened. At that stage he was pulling up on things and falling over a lot. He was also chewing on everything. I recall the morning I noticed it. Sean also had not seen it until I pointed it out. It was a small chip, but it still warranted a dentist visit. The dentist smoothed it down, checked his mouth out in less than 30 seconds and sent us home with fluoride to paint on periodically. He was an older man who would not give me eye contact. He brushed off my concern about his enamel being weak. The next day Jehryn bumped his teeth on a chair and chipped the other front central top tooth. We went back to the dentist and once again he smoothed it down and pushed fluoride. Although we have a lot of qualms about the chemical, we painted it on at least twice. I remember feeling lost. Both Sean and I were relatively quiet about Jehryn's teeth. We asked a few close family members and friends, but most seemed shocked and confused. I didn't blame them. It still feels surreal to me.
We had begun brushing his teeth when he started eating solid food at 6 months. I had asked natural minded parents about toothpaste and their experiences. Our doctor recommended a non-fluoride toothpaste. A few people told us coconut oil, others said water. So after his two front teeth had been chipped and smoothed down, we continued to brush in the evening before bed. But his teeth got worse. They started to chip and crumble. I remember the third or fourth time they chipped. I handed Jehryn to Sean and screamed. I punched the closest object--the pack n play--and fell to the floor, sobbing. I knew this was not right. Teeth should not fall apart! I took him in to the dentist because his jagged teeth were cutting my nipples, making nursing a pain and pumping at work excruciating. At one point I developed mastitis which is a breastfeeding mother's worst nightmare. Our dentist stated that there was decay during Jehryn's third visit, when he was 13 months. He wanted to try to build up the teeth with a composite material. This dentist had always been difficult to communicate with. I felt conflicted about his solution, and began to seek out other options. I reached out to my midwife's Facebook community and was referred to a dentist in Muncie. The second dentist's opinion was to schedule a procedure at the only hospital nearby, put Jehryn under general anesthesia, perform multiple root canals, and affix four porcelain crowns. That decision felt so heavy. My judgement was clouded by fear and anxiety. I wanted this problem fixed and appreciated this dentist's clear communication. So, we began to save up money for the procedure.
Thankfully, Sean and his mom had a conversation about the hospital and their concerns. When he approached me, I was shocked and thrown off. It took me a couple of days to admit that the whole crown procedure would be invasive and possibly unnecessary. We drug our feet for a couple weeks, feeling overwhelmed with the situation. I began visiting the Cure Tooth Decay website regularly. I cried a lot. I winced every time I brushed his teeth. I knew it was hurting him. I tried to be gentle. He cried. The guilt was so intense and the path was unclear. I felt like we had no control over the situation, but were still to blame. The second weekend in April, we decided we would call Riley hospital the following Monday. It was where we had taken Jehryn for his ECG. Our plan was to ask for a dentist referral. That weekend, I visited my friend Jen and brought her up to date on Jehryn's situation. She told me about her children's pediatric dentist who operates out of a nearby hospital. The dentist sounded open-minded and great with kids, so I called and made an appointment. There are two dentists who operate out of the office. The first dentist evaluated Jehryn, and told me extraction was probably the best solution. It was a shock to hear, but I felt better about it than the other two previous opinions. This dentist's older colleague ended up being the one to perform the procedure. She interviewed us over the phone two days beforehand and explained that she would do all she could to save his teeth, if possible. She also spoke with Jehryn's doctor and read every word of his ECG report from last summer. She gave us her home and cell phone numbers in case we had questions. We felt like Jehryn's needs were truly being put first.
The day of the procedure, we woke up early and headed to the hospital. I was anxious, but relieved that we had found a solution. Jehryn was laughing and playing with toys just seconds before they took him back for an X-ray. I will never forget the fear and confusion in his eyes when I handed him to the hygenist. This office is incredible, but I have regrets about allowing them to wrap him in a papoose board. Looking back, I would have insisted that I hold him. But in that moment, I was a mess emotionally and did not feel that I had the option. About fifteen minutes after Jehryn had left my sight, the dentist met with us and explained what was happening. She had used a local anesthetic and he was calm and watching a train movie. She had removed the decay from all four teeth in hopes of being able to save them. All four nerves were exposed, however, so she had no choice but to extract them. I had known this would be the case, but still broke into tears. It was over in minutes, and we were reunited with our brave son. When we entered the room, he was sitting on the hygenist's lap quietly. As soon as he saw me, he reached out and wailed. I can only imagine all the things he wanted to ask me, tell me, yell at me.
Children are resilient. During this challenging time, people have said that to me. They are right. After a good long cry and a two hour nap, our little bug bounced back. He began laughing more, eating more, sleeping better. His gums healed completely within 8 days. Initially, it was painful for me to even look at his gummy grin. I felt an enormous load of guilt. A few weeks later, I am in love with that gappy smile. He is happy and healthy. And I am doing all I can to correct whatever imbalance caused this. His two bottom central teeth have developed a slight discoloration. Our dentist referred to it as the very early stage of decay. She felt confident that the teeth would not get worse as long as we brush thoroughly twice a day. Along with a rigid tooth brushing schedule and the daily application of MI paste, I have implemented some changes to his diet including grassfed organ meats, raw grassfed milk, and fermented cod liver oil. In fact, this tooth journey has really pushed me into the world of traditional food. This blog will soon be taking a whole new direction, mirroring my current kitchen dancing and health research.
Even though the worst has passed, I haven't fully recovered from this event. It still hurts to talk about it, even if it is with mothers who have had similar experiences. I have avoided telling a lot of our friends and family, simply because I am tired of it breathing the same words again and again. I am tired of the shocked gasps, endless questions and hypotheses, especially the one which blames nighttime breastfeeding. Don't even get me started on that. Soon enough, there will be questions from strangers who may be curious about his missing teeth. In a year or two, we will be dealing with the procedure of attaching false teeth in order to help guide his permanent ones in. If there is one sure thing about parenting, it is that there will always be something to worry about. And so I will do my best to release my fears into the Universe and trust that wisdom and peace will continue to flow.
