Forgive, forget and put your tooth under your pillow

I've determined today that there is no pain in this world greater than the pain you see through the eyes of your children.  I have never felt as helpless or torn as I did having to watch my little girl suffer through a tooth extraction this afternoon.  The look of terror-stricken panic on her face, jaw locked open, noisy instruments all around and her eyes pleading with me for answers.  Why, Mommy?  Why are you letting me get hurt like this?

And there's the lesson.  How many times in life have we all done and said the same exact thing? Why? Why do we have to go through this pain?  Why do we have to suffer?  Why are you allowing this, Father God, why???

We knew what was going to happen before ever stepping into that dentist's office today.  I had explained to Madison that her "ouchie" tooth would probably come out.  And it was probably going to hurt some.  But if she didn't get it pulled it was going to hurt her even more by staying in her mouth and hurt even more in the long run.  A difficult concept to illustrate clearly to a 4 year old.  But how beautiful of an illustration is this? A rotted and broken tooth causing daily pain being extracted, painful as it is, in order to clear away the infection, the filth, the decay to make way for a healthy, permanant tooth to fill the void.  Do you see the connection yet? 

We are all like Madison in that dentist's chair today.  Sometimes overcome by fear.  The pain and confusion so great it outweighs rationale.  It's impossible to remember our conversations in days prior and all of the logical explanations of how this visit was going to go.  It was just pain she was feeling and couldn't see past that despite what she knew to be true. 

But do you know how Madison differs?  She got over it.  As soon as the worst of the pain subsided and they got her all gauzed up those little arms of hers wrapped themselves around my neck as giant crocodile tears slid down her cheeks and onto my shoulders.  She wasn't blaming me.  No.  She was resting in the comfort of what she knew and trusted to be safe.

What impacted me greater than anything else was as we were driving away and her eyes were filling with tears again.  I asked if she was in pain and she told me no.  Instead, she said just barely above a whisper "Mommy, I really like crunchy tacos and now I can never chew them again."  My poor baby girl.  She somehow got the idea that because her tooth was pulled and they said to eat soft foods for the day that she would have to eat nothing but banana mush, pudding and jello for the rest of her life.  And boy does this girl like crunchy tacos.  My heart broke for her.  I explained that a new tooth would grow back in in a few years and that it just needed to heal for a day or two then she could eat anything she wants again.  The look of relief flooding her face was priceless.

Do you know the rest of the day I didn't hear a single complaint from her?  The novacain wore off and she was concerned about the tingling feeling.  And when she told me it was hurting just a little some Tylenol seemed to quickly do the trick and put her right back in her element again. 

We had spent the entire afternoon at the dentist and then the late afternoon at my mom's as she "needed" to see Bramma and Papa to tell them about her tooth (and Mommy needed a breather between the dentist and home)  I was now 4 hours behind for work and knew I had a list a mile long to work on when we got home.  But all Madison wanted to do was snuggle.  So, I put everything aside for the night.  Work can be caught up on tomorrow, dishwasher can be unloaded later and lists can be checked off another time.  My little trooper needed snuggles with her mommy.  After a big bowl of spaghettios, some vanilla pudding and a mild (for Madison) hyper spurt, she stripped down (how Madison is most comfortable) grabbed a blanket and within 20 minutes was lightly snoring against my chest, her tooth "chest" clenched in her little fist.  After sufficient baby snuggles I carried her to bed where she woke up just long enough to make sure her tooth was safely tucked under her pillow for the tooth fairy.  And with a slight smile she drifted back off to sleep.

We don't always know the whole story.  We don't understand the pain and emotions we have to go through.  All we have to know is that it's necessary.  We have to clear away the rot of our own lives and allow ourselves to heal where something new, better, healthier can grow in it's place.  It might be nearly impossible to see through the initial pain.  It might not feel worth it while we're experiencing it.  And the aftermath can be nasty.  But the end result is beautiful.  We can't hold onto the pain and suffering or we'll only prolong our own healing.  And remember to put your tooth under your pillow.  There will be rewards in the morning.