Nothing but the Tooth

I'm posting these photos in a vain effort to try and remember the Harriet that I knew and loved. For that old Harriet has forsaken me; left me alone and aghast at this new, foreign Harriet who now inhabits our domain.

Yes, Harriet is teething. And not just "There's a potential nub of a tooth" which we've had in the past, but the full-blown "There's-a-Wiltshire-knife-under-my-gum-and-it's-coming-out-to-hurt-both-you-and-I" kind of tooth.

Now I've heard it said by friends and acquaintances and even overheard in that enjoyable domain known as the local shopping centre, that some babies just have teeth appear. We were out at lunch on Sunday and a friend mentioned that one day she noticed her son Hamish had taken a chunk out of a toy and a friend remarked to her that he must have a tooth, and then lo and behold, look! A tooth appeared! Well phooey to all of you with stories such as these.


Our story begins with a rather broken night's sleep. In fact it was broken every hour by the sound of a rather anguished baby crying out. Nothing would console her except the boob, so I spent most of the night awake with one breast rather attractively slung out to the side like a badly holstered gun. Needless to say, the following day I was rather tired and thought Harry was just pretty tired as well, because she was moderately more squealy and upset than usual. No problem though, after one bad night's sleep (which we haven't had for a long time mind you) she usually does well the next night to compensate. No such luck. The second night she woke every hour again, except this time she woke screaming on a few occasions and at 2am decided to wake and have a little babble about the world to anyone who'd care to listen. I can tell you, I didn't care to listen much but had no real choice given that my anatomy was laid out in such a way that forced my wakefulness.
Then on the third day, she spent the whole day SQUEALING and SCREAMING. Did I mention that she spent the whole day SCREAMING and SQUEALING? Just wanted to make sure. So by about 2pm I am ready to kill, and make a beeline for the outdoors, hoping against hope that Harriet will actually go to sleep finally. And she does. But by the time we get close to home, she awakens and the screaming this time is hysterical. When we get to the front door of the house and I have the opportunity to take her out to give her some cuddling (as opposed to in-pram cuddling which is quite inferior), I have her face less than an inch from my own and on the next scream realise that I can see a tooth, like, the whole tooth, dentine and all, sitting in the gum.

I feel about this big.

I rush inside to find the Children's Panadol and give her some. Normally this makes her a little drowsy, but she is so hysterical with pain that it only serves to calm her down into a normal state of affairs. She's still not very smile-y and not very playful, but we manage to have a bit of a muck around on the bed which is her favourite thing to do, and elicit the occasional giggle which is relieving to hear. But that night she gets another dose when she starts screaming again and sleeps poorly (again) but at least I know why this time.

Hopeless Mama Award goes to....

Today you can feel the jagged edge of her tooth jutting above the gumline and she is spending all of her waking hours covered in the most intense amount of drool one could visualise. But at least I know what's going on and can do something about it now, and don't have to worry that my smiling, happy little peach has not metamorphosised without explanation overnight. I'm sure the reversion back to Happy Harry will occur soon. Our normal programming will be resumed. Keep watching this page.