5 /5 April H.: When my son was two, he needed his front baby teeth worked on due to breast milk decay. The dentist did everything possible to save them, but ultimately, both had to be removed. When they broke the news in the waiting room, I was devastated—hysterical, even. His dad consented, and the procedure was done.
As we checked out, the receptionist, Ms. Arlene, shared that her granddaughter had gone through the same thing. At the time, I couldn’t process it—I was convinced my baby’s life would be miserable, that he’d be teased endlessly. But she gently reminded me that by the time he really started school, most kids would be losing their teeth anyway, and he’d fit right in.
I cried for another day or so, but soon, life with a toddler took over. Now, at eight years old, he has strong, beautiful front teeth, and looking back, I realize how safe and smooth the procedure was. The dentist and anesthetist took great care of him—he was back up and running that same evening.
I’m sharing this because, in that moment, I thought the feeling of loss would never pass. But it did. And everything turned out just fine.
Thank you, Ms. Arlene, for your kindness on one of my hardest days. I appreciate you more than you know.
