All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. . .

My generation all grew up on that now famous Christmas song. I remember when my ASD daughter lost her two front baby teeth at about 5.5 years and anxiously waited until her permanent teeth filled in the gap. We've been very lucky with our daughter. She has healthy teeth that came in relatively straight and has tolerated her braces well (okay maybe not well) for more than 1.5 years (mostly b/c I got adult braces at the same time.)

We're not so lucky with her almost 7-year-old ASD brother, who was premature, suffered from severe reflux from birth until recently, was diagnosed with asthma as an infant, and, as if all those factors aren't bad enough for baby teeth, has a congenital problem with his enamel or rather the lack thereof.

All of these factors resulted in major restorative oral surgery at age 4.5 and we are now facing another round of surgery next week, to repair, crown and/or remove his remaining baby teeth. Oh, and I forgot to mention that he's also extremely small for his age with a tiny jaw i.e. no room for permanent teeth.

So next week he goes back to the ER for his fifth surgery in less than 7 years. When he wakes up from the anesthesia he's going to have huge gaps in the front of his mouth where the 8 teeth that have to come out are currently located.

We have gotten through his prior surgeries by not telling him much of anything. We take Dr. Bear to the hospital with us, along with comfy blankets and stuff for our stay, we play while he gets his prophylactic breathing treatments and loopy juice (Versed, great stuff) and kiss him and Dr. Bear goodbye on the way to the OR, while he giggles away.

A hour, or two or three later, he comes back to us sleeping like an angel, until he wakes up feeling like a bear in a bear trap (Versed, nasty stuff). He screams, tries to yank out his IV and with any luck goes back to sleep for awhile while his pain meds. kick in.

Sounds like a routine, huh.

NOT!!!!

I have no idea how to explain to him that he's going to wake up without his teeth. We can't tell him before hand, he'll freak. He has major SID issues with his mouth, textures and food. Last time, all we said, once the nasty anesthesia hangover wore off, was that he got these great new silver teeth (expensive stainless steel crowns). This time all he will have left are silver teeth!

We know it's only for months, maybe a year or so, before his permanent teeth fill the holes. We also know that we don't have the luxury of removing these teeth one at a time, like most dentists would do as the perms come in. With a medically compromised child, you have to be aggressive. The last thing we want is to have to go back to the OR again in another year.

I keep praying that the next surgery will be his last. I will continue to do so, even though we know he has a 50/50 chance of needing sinus surgery again at age 8 or 9. We also found out during this go round that he has a narrowed airway. I guessed that a while ago, since he keeps getting croup, which he should have long out grown, but hearing it from a doctor hurts.

Still, we are very blessed, and once he gets over all this, he will probably have a great time wearing a variety of fake teeth.

He's a clown, that Charlie Brown.

Nianya

Too Blessed to be Stressed

Last Thanksgiving, I bought a coffee mug at a Christian Book Store that says "Too Blessed to be Stressed." I joked to my husband that they had it backwards. We're too stressed to be blessed. We never get a break and it seems like we always take two baby steps forward and three bigfoot steps back.

If you're a special needs parent I'm betting you know just what I mean. I call it Nianya's Law. My own personal version of Murphy's Law:

Everything that can possibly go wrong, will go wrong, at the worst possible time.

For instance, I started reaching out to other special needs parents after what I call my rock bottom week. My then 18-month-old son was hospitalized with croup/asthma less than two days after I had oral surgery, the hospital had no idea how to deal with our son's GFCF diet and we felt like we we're alone with no one to turn to for help.

Since that time, more than four years ago, I have hit rock bottom several times. Nianya's Law never fails me. It's the one thing I can count on.

Just this past Sunday, I mentioned the hospital croup story to the Elders at our new church.

JINX.

I should know better.

Sure enough, less than 12 hours later we were headed back to the ER with another round of croup, the spare tire that my husband put on the car the night before went flat as we drove out of our driveway at 3:30 AM, the only hospital open was packed with flu victims, the hospital told us our insurance was expired, we barely got out of there four hours later in time to get our older daughter to school and, to top it all off, the whole time we were there, I kept thinking. . .

NOT NOW PLEASE. . . we've been invited to the Today Show taping at the Georgia Aquarium tomorrow morning.

I should also know better than to put my pride above my child's health, but we we're all so excited about the today show. We had special signs and T-shirts made up for the kids and it was such a great opportunity for our autistic 12-year-old.

So I prayed.

• I was afraid my son would end up in the hospital again. He didn't!


• My daughter and I made it to the Today Show taping, despite a broken-down tractor-trailer on the Interstate and everyone knows that, if there's a tractor-trailer incident on an Atlanta freeway, you might as well give it up. Not this time!


• My husband and I succumbed to the flu this week, but Not at the same time!


• My daughter did not get sick. KNOCK ON WOOD!

Things could have been worse. We have two cars, so we made it to the hospital, despite two flat tires. We were able to take turns playing Dr. Mom to our son and each other. We have wonderful friends, who helped us out, when we needed rides to and from school. We have really good insurance. I guess it was a computer glich. And most important, we have our faith.

This week was truly an example of the power of prayer at work and we are truly:

TOO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED

Nianya