Poor Jacob. Today has not been his favorite. He had to go to the dentist for multiple reasons. He had a permanent molar coming in half way on top of a baby molar and it had killed half the root of the baby tooth. Because of that it had pushed the baby tooth into the tooth next to it (also a baby molar) and had caused a cavity. Both of the baby molars aren't due to fall out for another two years. So the dentist's decision was to fill the cavity, pull out the tooth with the half dead root, and put in a spacer to keep the permanent molar from migrating any more forward in his mouth. Oh yeah, and let's throw in a frenectomy while we're in there. (Removing a piece of muscle that is connected from the lip to the gums and can cause a space between teeth.)
Up to now Jake has had only cleanings at the dentist, except for last year when we were surprised with an unplanned extraction. To say he was nervous about the whole process would be an understatement. For the past week he's been asking me questions about drills, laughing gas, and retainers. I haven't been able to answer all his questions but I kept reassuring him that I would be with him the whole time and would hold his hand as much as he wanted.
I picked him up from school and he was noticeably quiet as he climbed in. In fact the only thing he said was, "Does the drill hurt?" After we dropped the girls off to play with Libby and Addie, I caught a glimpse of his tense, worried face in the rear view mirror. "Got butterflies in your stomach?" I asked him. "More like a hyperactive tap dancing frog," was his response.
So when they offered laughing gas at the dentist's we quickly agreed that anything that would help him be calmer was a good idea. He insisted throughout the whole procedure that the laughing gas didn't affect him at all, and when he drifted off to sleep a couple of times he was really awake and just pretending to sleep. All I know is that he was incredibly mellow through out the appointment, which is a far cry from having to be held down by both me and the dental technician like the last time he had to get a shot.
An hour later we walked out with one tooth in a treasure box, one tooth with a filling, one frenectomy, and one child insisting that laughing gas has absolutely no effect on him whatsoever. I will admit, he didn't laugh.