Friday, April 27, 2012

beautiful imperfection


Two days ago, my baby fell from the stairs and lost a front tooth. It happened that fast, in a second. Just a second, just a small moment and now and for about the 5 years to come, there is something different about his smile, there's a missing tooth.


It's a good thing that the Internet was not working on Wednesday and yesterday, and I couldn't write about it, because it gave me time to accept what happened and make peace with myself.


Any mother who saw their child falling hard right next to them knows what I felt. Terror. Pain. Heartbreak. Guilt. Sadness. Regret. Shame. Fear of judgment.


We went to the emergencies (not exactly as glamorous as in the TV show, but pretty depressing and gloomy if you want my opinion) where I was told that it happens all the time. Milk teeth seem to be flying out of young people's mouth quite easily. And we came back home and as tears welled up in my eyes as we were sitting on the bus, I knew I would find a way to accept it, a place in me to find the good about all of this.


So I slowly let go off the thoughts that people will look at him differently. That he will be the funny kid at school. That he will be the reckless kid. That everything will be different because of this missing tooth.


My baby is fine. It could have been much much worse. We need to be reminded sometimes how precious and fragile our little ones are (even if he is pretty strong when it comes to slapping us for fun). We need to be reminded that life and health are fragile. My baby is an adventurer, and his pirate smile will attest it. He'll be even cuter with a missing tooth. I should not blame myself because it could have happened with anybody, anytime. He will not blame me because he will always know how much I love him. I shouldn't value the physical perception so much. Imperfection is beautiful.


It took me a little time to come to these thoughts. But that's where I am today. I am proud of his courage: he was running like a baby dear at the hospital, exploring corridors, and even if the doctor did scare him a little with her mask and gloves, he gave her a smile before leaving, when he understood that there was actually someone nice behind the mask. I am proud of myself that I found the courage in me to search for something good to come out of it. I am proud of my man for supporting me the way he did, and never once making me feel like it was my fault if Swann fell (and for bearing my stress and tears that night, and for saying that where he comes from, kids with missing tooth are the cool ones).


Florina lost a tooth a few days ago, it fell so slowly that the permanent tooth was already there, but the old tooth somehow kept hanging to her gum like it couldn't resign to leave. So, ironically, my two children, with ten years of difference, lost a tooth almost at the same time... 



10 comments:

Round Circles said...

Oh comme je comprend ce que tu as ressenti...la peur,et la souffrance de le voir souffrir...Et je te trouve forte de parvenir à dédramatiser et ne pas culpabiliser...ma p'tite dernière est montée sur le grand lit de sa soeur à 18 mois et est tombé sur la tête.Résultat:une bosse (grosse comme un oeuf) sur le front et qui aujourd'hui encore est présente!Moins préminente bien sur ...mais suffisamment présente pour que je culpabilise de ne pas avoir avoir été près d'elle,de ne pas avoir fait ci ou ça ..........enfin je m'en veux parfois...et d'autres fois je me dit qu'elle est comme ça,que ça s'arrangera en grandissant(ou pas) et que c'est Elle...ça fait partie de son histoire de cascadeuse!


En tout cas deux dent la même semaine:c'est fort!
Bons baisers ma douce

Anabelle said...

Oh j'imagine bien ce que tu as pu ressentir! Florina et Swann sont chacun tombés de leur lit bébé (tu sais, le saut, et hop, la tête la première par-dessus le lit de bébé, à cause du matelas en position trop haute... bonjour culpabilité!)
Comme toi avec ta fille, je me dis aussi que le sourire de Swann me rappellera que j'aurais pu/dû (non, je vais garder "pu": moins culpabilisant) être plus attentive, mais je préfère le voir comme le signe de son caractère de petit explorateur. C'est d'ailleurs ce que je lui ai dit (et lui dirai à nouveau plus tard): "Si on te demande où es passée ta dent, dis que tu l'as perdue parce que tu es un petit aventurier!"
En tout cas, c'est la petite souris qui est contente :-)

Et puis, il faut laisser nos enfants vivre et découvrir, même s'il y a souvent un risque qu'ils se blessent... Il vaut mieux une bosse ou une dent en moins que vivre dans la crainte et derrière des barreaux invisibles...

Beau week-end à toi Nora.

Emilie said...

ce n'est pas de ta faute, tout cela arrive en un quart de seconde, comment aurais-tu pu y changer quelque chose ?
le plus important est qu'il n'est pas de blessure grave
je t'embrasse ;)

Anabelle said...

Merci Emilie, oui, je crois que tu as raison...
Bise!

Alexis said...

Oh dear, poor Swann! Although a friend of Coco's lost a tooth when she was one and it grew back again! Surely all these things build character as you say? Sorry about Florrina's grandpa, it feels like you have a lot on at the moment... or is it just that this is what life is?

French Cannes Cannes said...

AT! quelle semaine...but you are right - these things happen and he will still be the amazing, adorable, curious little boy that he is (plus, it will make for a good story when he's older and the trauma of the moment has passed). bisous et courage pour ce weekend sous la pluie.. xo

Anabelle said...

FCC, merci et bisou!
Let's hope for some sun this week ;)

un courant d'air dans la maison said...

ah je comprends ton angoisse à l'idée que ton petit garçon ai perdu une dent... j'ai ressenti la même chose quand à un an, on nous a appris qu'il était myope de chez myope. et quand on lui a collé de grosse lunettes bleu, que je me suis rendu compte que l'on ne verrait plus son joli regard et ses grands yeux, mais des petits yeux, et un look d'intello, j'ai eu beaucoup de peine... j'avais pas envie qu'il devienne le petit intello de la classe, qu'on lui colle une étiquette parce qu'il avait une particularité physique... et je comprends pour ton fils... mais c'est comme ça, on doit l'accepter c'est tout... eux ils l'acceptent tellement bien !! bises

Jen said...

Annabelle, I know exactly your feelings, BOTH my boys have a broken front tooth (though with entirely different ways of obtaining them). I couldn't believe it when i saw the jagged results after T's fall (age 1) and then again when J tumbled high speed off his scooter (age 2). Like you I felt so dreadfully guilty- and their appearance suddenly so different from the moment before. Time heals though, and my boys are still gutsy, inquisitive, and accident prone, and I learned - what will be will be. After all, if milk teeth are to be replaced by bigger stronger ones, then lets use them for accidents while we can!

Anabelle said...

Merci Delphine pour ton message. Je comprends très bien ce que tu me décris, c'est vrai que le visage de nos petits chéris, c'est sacré. Mais je trouve que le tien est génial avec ses lunettes! C'est drôle, cette crainte qu'on a des représentations... Alors que comme tu le dis si bien, eux se prennent beaucoup moins la tête!

Jen, your message made my day! I love what you say about milk teeth :)
Swann is just like your boys, he hasn't changed one bit after his accident, he is even more adventurous than ever... we're trying to keep the other theeth in place tough!