Grinning and (hopefully) bearing it

A few months ago, in the chaos of our move, Peanut suffered a bit of an injury: She did a face-plant on our hardwood kitchen floor. Of course, both L and I were out of the room at the moment of impact. L arrived to find Peanut writhing on her back in the midst of the "stop-breathing" cry of terrible pain. We still don't know if Peanut just tripped or if Jellybean, ahem, assisted her in this fall.

At any rate, she bled a ton from her mouth, and we had her checked out by the doctor (we were actually moving the very next day). She split her frenulum -- a word I know thanks to the Barenaked Ladies kids album. Other than that, she seemed all right.

A couple weeks later, one of her front teeth noticeably changed colors, to a light purplish shade. Before I let myself totally freak out, I did what any good mother does: I Googled it. I learned that changing colors is a normal healing process for tooth trauma and that you should only worry if the child is complaining that it hurts, as it could be infected.

We took her to a pediatric dentist as soon as we were settled, and she confirmed my Googling (love that!) and took an x-ray. At the time, she said the tooth could go either way. It was either going to completely heal itself, or it was going to develop an infection and require anything from a root canal (egad) to removal so it doesn't damage the permanent tooth. We have monitored it closely since then, and other than a repeat face plant that about drove me to drink, it hasn't changed or bothered her.

Why am I recounting this story now? Peanut has a dentist appointment this week, for a cleaning and follow-up x-ray. We will have a verdict this week: Either the tooth is healed, or something drastic will have to happen. I have a good feeling that everything is okay. Oh please, oh please, oh please. I'll keep you updated.