The one with the dentist and the over dramatised near-death experience (kind of…)
This week has seemed slightly…strange. As well as Eliza’s clockwork early morning wake-up time of 5.30am – my new nemesis – she’s not been very well and is also teething again, and has also taken to waking up at around midnight for a few hours. So sleep, or lack of, has been a big factor in the past few days for all of us.
Talking of teeth, Wednesday involved a quick trip to the emergency dentist. On nursery pick-up the night before her key worker pointed out that her top gum seemed a bit inflamed. It looked dramatically worse the next morning, and of course I started thinking in hyperbolic worst-case scenarios (she doesn’t eat that much sugar and we’re pretty strict about teeth brushing, but as all parents of toddlers know it’s a lot harder than you’d think when you have a wriggly baby who refuses to open their mouth). The lovely dentist confirmed it was a slight teething-related gum infection, her teeth were completely fine, and I was happy that I wasn’t a terrible, awful mother. But seriously, the guilt! And the thought that I might have inflicted some kind of damage on my tiny perfect child.
Then last night I went out with some of my NCT mum friends to the new Crystal Palace Market restaurant. At one point I swallowed a giant piece of steak which got stuck in my throat and blocked my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t swallow. Everything went very slow and very…still. I remember thinking really clearly that it wasn’t good and I didn’t have long to sort it out.
But hey! It was all fine in the end. How scary though? The restaurant is lovely, check it out if you’re in the area (just cut your meat up properly!)