My poor baby

We made it through the doctor’s appointment just fine and I was thinking about what a good day it had turned out to be, then there was an accident. Steve and I were playing with Ella in the living room. Ella was on all fours crawling – I think pretending to be a kitty – when she crawled out onto our kitchen tile floor. She had just gotten out there, when Steve said “Ella come back in here.” He said he was worried she’d get hurt on that tile. And a second later, somehow, her hands came out from under her and her face went straight down on the tile.

We raced over. Steve picked her up first and took a look. “Her tooth is broken!” Oh no. “And it’s bleeding.” I took a look and sure enough, a big piece was missing from one front tooth and a small piece from the other. We could see little bits in her mouth. I held her with her blankie and told Steve to get ice while I turned on a cartoon to distract her.

She didn’t cry too long, so apparently the pain must not be too terrible, we assumed. But her teeth! We left a message with a pediatric dentist, who was no longer open that day, and hopefully they can get her in today. I don’t know if they’ll fix them though. I mean if there needs to be anesthesia or gas, I’m not sure it’s really worth the risk. But she does put her finger in there and acts like she knows something’s not right. When I gave her a sippy cup with a hard spout she cried a little and grabbed her teeth – so it does hurt a little in that case.

Anyway, obviously there are way worse things — I had spent the morning in a pediatric oncology/hematology unit, remember? — but we felt sick about her getting hurt. It was really her first big injury. And now her front teeth, all ragged. For every picture she’ll have these broken teeth? Oh well, she’s still pretty endearing, even with her little snaggleteeth.