A while back I posted about my own experiences visiting the dentist. This experience involves my two-year-old.
In October, Jonas went to see our family pediatric dentist -- I knew he had a cavity between his two front teeth. This dentist is awesome. She is very low-key. The child sits facing the parent in a straddle position. The doctor then wheels her chair up really close so her knees are touching the parent's knees, and she eases the child into her lap. This was just what we needed as the regular chair was not only too big for Jonas, it was way too scary!
Once the time came to do the work, the dentist had two assistants with her, plus me, holding his lower body in my lap (and keeping his hands restrained when needed). One assistant was the go-to gal to get supplies, tools, etc., and the other assistant was purely there to help keep Jonas immobile. This all sounds harsh, and being the mom of three, I quickly understand crying due to pain and crying due to not-wanting-to-be-somewhere; I don't seek out opportunities to torture my children, I just realize sometimes these things are necessary and needed for good health.
The first time I witnessed my child being inflicted with something that was uncomfortable (yes, even painful), was when my first baby was being treated for a septic infection following his birth (probably due to his hospital birth, as I was not GBS+ and germs do tend to hover in hospitals). I was discharged on day 2, and he had to stay another 9 days without my full-time care. I came every three hours to feed him. One time as I was walking into the NICU, I heard Jacob crying. I saw the nurses were trying to hold him down so they could place an IV into his head. A nurse looked at me and said, "Mom, you can stay and help hold him, or you can leave until we are done." I jumped right in and helped hold my baby while a bit of his hair was shaved and the procedure was finished; it did help to hear his crying was the same when they were shaving his head as they were when the needle went in :::shudder:::. Still not a pleasant experience for a newly postpartum mother and her first baby. I just felt, though, if I couldn't handle it, I would have left him all alone, and that was more heart-breaking to me than what needed to be done for him medically.
I guess I think of myself as a tough mom, because I learned early on if I let something get to me, I would be asked to leave, and I didn't want that. So I am a let-me-help-hold-him-while-he-gets-his-shots-so-he-has-my-support kind of mom.
The one assistant that was helping keep Jonas still was on her knees on the floor. I knew her pain! As a doula I often find myself in that same position. "You need a garden pad," I told her. "What?" she asked? Over the sounds of the dentist's tools, I explained I was a doula, and what that entails. "I carry a bag full of things that often help a woman when she is laboring. The one thing I ALWAYS use, though, is my kneeling pad. Moms have used it, dads have used it, and even midwives have used it. That's what you need." She agreed, and slid another towel under her poor knees.
Jonas got through it all, and we left to go directly to the toy store to get him a special toy for his trauma. Once I got a chance, guess what? I dropped off a garden pad off to the office with a thank-you card.
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