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...