Just Some Teething Issues… Evanne Ní Chuilinn on Mixed Emotions at Baby’s Big Milestones

Last week I quipped about spending the week clutching a bottle of Baby Nurofen. Seven days on, I’m losing patience with the wee man’s lower incisors. 

A quick google search for the word “teething”, will throw up the hideuously literal term “cutting teeth”. The baby’s gums flare up, and gradually, the lower and upper incisors push through, followed, over the course of two whole years, by the cannies and molars. That’s a lot of crying. 

Séimí’s very first front tooth is showing all the signs of an imminent arrival. At six months, he’s drooling like a grown man who hasn’t seen a full Irish in ten years, he’s chewing everything in sight, he cries in his sleep, and when we go in to soothe him, he often has his fist in his mouth. It breaks my heart. 

I find myself making excuses for him. I’m putting everything down to teething. He’s taking dozens of tiny power naps in my arms, he’s not eating properly, and he’s clingy (which I secretly love, because he’s usually happy to roam aimlessly around on the floor). I hope I’m not encouraging bad habits, but I honestly think that he just needs more attention while he’s working those bad boys out. Am I being naïve? This is where the first-time Mammy business bites you in the ass. One wrong move, and I could turn an angelic infant into a tyrant of a toddler.

If I could take the pain away this would be a lot easier to tolerate. But no matter how hard it is to listen to your baby crying, or how frustrating it is to try and force a spoon of mushy rusk into a mouth that is shut tight, imagine how much more difficult it is for a baby. When my wisdom teeth were giving me trouble in Secondary School, I was like a briar. The pain was so bad, I’d get headaches from the tension in my jaw. Séimí is a hero. He’s resourceful. He’ll chew on whatever’s at hand, be it the box of Wheetabix his Daddy has given him (sigh), the tv remote control, or his Mammy’s nose (it’s like being chewed by a fish). Then, when it all gets too much, he’ll suck on his bongela soaked soother and happily cuddle up to sleep in my arms. I always wish I could take the pain away before he wakes up. 

I will admit, I’m in two minds about this particular milestone. I want the pain to stop, and the only thing that will bring permanent or even significant temporary respite is the arrival of a tooth. But I love Séimí’s gummy smile. I’ll miss it so much, and I can’t help but think that he’s growing up if he’s getting teeth. When he was two weeks old, I told my friend that I missed the tiny baby stage. She thought I was barking mad. She had a three month old baby boy of her own at the time, and I remember her telling me that she was relieved when the tiny baby stage passed, and her little man got a bit sturdier in her arms. I was the opposite. I know I’ll be so proud of my trouper when he ‘cuts’ that first tooth and I know it’s a big milestone, but am I the only Mammy to want things to slow the hell down? Maybe I’ll take a leaf from Séimí’s book.Time for a cuddle and a sleep.

Chat next week friends.

 

E x