Less than two weeks after Jeff died, my youngest son J2 then three years old fell on the playground and bashed out his two front teeth. This wasn't a big surprise. J2 has always been a bit clumsy and is usually covered in cuts and bruises. Yet he is rather hearty so after he fell he popped up and said "I OK" and ran off to continue playing.
A friend of mine HG had him at the playground that day and had called and said she thought he'd chipped his tooth. Well, when she got a better look at him she realized he'd done more damage but at that point they were headed home. I have since spent a great deal of time assuring her that he would have done this even if I had been there, but like any good person she feels some guilt for returning my son minus his teeth.
That afternoon I took him to the dentist and had both teeth pulled. They were broken vertically and had to be removed. Two weeks later he had fake teeth. The fake teeth are a bridge, imagine a retainer that glues to the back molars and the two front teeth hang off the wire in the front. The teeth have worked great. He has loved them and hasn't given the retainer any problems.
Until three weeks ago, when J2 climbed up on his toy box while by back was turned getting his pajama's out of his drawer. Jumping off the box he hit his bed and snapped a fake tooth off cutting his lips in the process. Tears and blood and of course it was 7pm so the question was where to go. After finding a 24 hour dentist not far from the house, I figured they would remove the retainer. However, they filed down the rough edges and took an x-ray to make sure that he didn't break anymore teeth. I left with the advice to go back to the pediatric dentist and get a new retainer. Of course, scheduling with the dentist took a week.
The following Monday night J2 did not joining me for dinner. J2 was under the pillows on the couch. I called and asked and figured he was just being stubborn so I left him alone. After I finished eating I got to wondering if he had fallen asleep. I went over to check on him.
His eyes were open so I knew he wasn't asleep but he still didn't respond to me. As I knelt down and got closer I realized his jaw was clamped closed and a small amount of spit had gathered. He still didn't respond to me. I panicked. There is no description that fits better. I was suddenly struck with the belief that he was having a seizure. I pulled him out from under the cushions and within seconds realized that it was not a seizure but that he had bent the retainer and it was pinching his cheeks causing him a lot of pain.
Why a week later he did this, I don't know. Why he didn't come and tell me, I don't know. But he is four and at four, he went and hid. I rushed him off to the pediatric dentist (our appointment was still 3 days away) and this time had the retainer pulled out. We had another mold taken for another set of fake teeth since we are still two years away from getting his adult teeth in. His new teeth are not in yet, but they will be soon and he will be right as rain.
I learned a lesson that night. I learned that fear is as elemental as air and always within my grasp. After what I experienced with Jeff, what would be my greatest fear other than to loose my children the same way? Do I dwell on this? No. But does this fear find a way to come to the surface? Yes. Both of my boys are healthy, neither has shown signs of having a seizure condition. But that won't stop this fear from formulating in my mind. When I saw J2, unresponsive, eyes staring forward, mouth clamped shut. My first thought was seizure. And I will probably jump to that conclusion a million more times in the course of his lifespan.
What I can do is tame that fear, tamp it down after it arises and master it. I didn't scream, I didn't cry, I was able to determine within seconds that this was not a seizure and then I mobilized to solve the problem. I can do this.
Fear is not the enemy your response to fear is. If I were to let my fear overwhelm my life I will be useless to my children. This is not an option for me, I refuse to effectively make my children orphans because I am afraid.
But I am afraid, I am very afraid. No matter what I say and do, know that deep down in my soul I am desperately afraid and I will be up until the day I die. I am a mother, I have known love and I have lost love. To risk love is to risk fear. I didn't know this when I became pregnant but you open yourself up to a lifetime of fear the moment the stick turns blue. Will you miscarry? Will the baby be OK? Will you suffer from SIDS? Autism? Medical issues? Death? I've said this before and I will say it again, in order to live life we have to set aside our fear. But it doesn't mean it isn't there.
When I met Sherri Newman who lost her 12 year old son Joshua to SUDEP and author of Laughter through Tears (http://thenewmans.blogspot.com/) she said to me "I won't say you're strong because I know how we hate that word, but you are brave." Brave: to endure or face (unpleasant conditions or behavior) without showing fear. Yes, I am afraid. But when that fear arises I am also brave.
Sincerely,
Jeff's Wife
"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."
Nelson Mandela
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