Well, my tooth extraction didn't exactly happen today. In fact, the mere attempt left me in more pain than I ever had to begin with. I was so hoping that I would get it all over with--but attempt number two is scheduled for Thursday.
Now, coming home in tears and complete agonizing pain left for some fancy footwork where Gracie is concerned. Luckily, my appointment was during her "nap time," and she wasn't up yet. Garren of course was there and let her get up after I closed myself in my room.
So here's the tricky part--we don't want her to be afraid of the dentist. We have been telling her for the past two appointments that the dentist is going to fix my tooth. She has been reassuring me, telling me, "it's okay mama, it won't hurt." Actually, I kind of needed that reassurance even from a naive four year old who has no idea what Novocaine is!!!
Daddy explained that the dentist couldn't fix my tooth, and I wasn't feeling well. She missed the pillow-over-my-head-crying-in-agony sounds, thank goodness. I do not exaggerate! I was in awful pain until my medicine kicked in an hour later.
I will briefly explain that they could not remove the tooth without pain despite nearly pouring numbing medicine in every crevice. The working theory (depends on who you ask), is that the infection in my tooth was worse than he thought and the acid was neutralizing the anesthesia.
Anyway, more and more hard questions are surfacing, and I am realizing more and more how Garren and I handle and answer these questions will shape our child's world view. I think that might scare me more than the thought of going back to the dentist Thursday!
So far we are lucky to avoid those really tricky and heart breaking questions like "Mommy, why don't I have a Daddy?" or "Why isn't (fill in the blank relative) here anymore?" We have actually dodged the bullet a couple of times like "Where is Elijah?" (child nearly drowned by his mother that lived downstairs from us) or "What happened to Aunt Lou?" or even "Why doesn't Mariah live with her mommy and daddy?" and "Why does Grandma have to lay down a lot?"
I hope that when the time comes, God will help us explain all the hard questions to our very sensitive child. Luckily Garren and I will do it together--because I would ignore the issue and say "Hey look at the butterflies, want some ice cream?" And he would start in on an hour long explanation of a text book answer and how much life and the world sucks--leaving her more confused than ever. For all of our faults--Garren and I balance each other out, and I am confident this has made for a more balanced Gracie. In the meantime, we will enjoy the quiet moments and pray for wisdom.