During the COVID-19 Pandemic, a Mother Cried at the Pediatric Dentist

Accompanying my son to the dentist was a precious time for me, a moment where I could finally rely on someone else, even just a little, after constantly having to be on guard.

My son, who was born miraculously after a long battle with illness, was a sensitive child who would run away in fear of the sounds of hair dryers and vacuum cleaners, refused to eat with his hands because he hated getting them dirty, and would look at new toys with a furrowed brow and visible wariness, observing them from a distance.

Just imagining taking him to the dentist made me terrified of what kind of incident might occur. However, every time I looked at his innocent teeth—three on top and three on the bottom, which had finally grown in a bit late after he turned two—I felt a growing desire to protect at least this much, precisely because I was a powerless parent who couldn't give him anything else.

I opened the website of a pediatric dental clinic I had secretly hoped to take him to if I ever had the chance, and checked their booking page.
The appointments were fully booked for two months in advance, with absolutely no openings.

Yeah, I figured as much.
Since I wanted to take him there so badly, I'm sure all the other parents felt the same way—.

Disguising the difficulty of the major event that is a sensitive, fearful child's first dental visit as 'it can't be helped since they're fully booked,' I quietly closed my smartphone. I felt guilty, and my heart remained heavy.

At the same time, his admission to a licensed nursery school was decided, and he was scheduled to start the adjustment period in just two weeks. As I busily prepared for his enrollment and underwent the pre-enrollment health check, the thought of a dental checkup suddenly crossed my mind.

The school menu I received was filled with enticing sweets I had never let him eat at home, like muffins and melon bread.
The words of the head teacher, who had a gentle smile, also came to mind: 'We have a lot of homemade snacks, and the children love them.'

I want him to enjoy the meals and snacks at school to his heart's content.
After all, I really must have him get a fluoride treatment before his full-fledged school life begins—.

I opened the booking page again, just in case.
To my surprise, there was one single slot open for the very next day.
I thought this was a divine revelation. I mindlessly and quickly entered the necessary information into the form and closed the screen. I felt like a criminal waiting for execution when I thought about the day itself, but surprisingly, my heart felt light.


The day of the appointment.
I talked to him about where we were going today and what we would do there, and he listened with a solemn expression as I gave him an idea of what to expect.
I did what I could.
Oh well, here goes!

Inside the bright and clean clinic, a woman with a wonderful smile welcomed us at the reception.
As soon as my son entered the clinic, he looked around with a stiff face. In his right hand, he held a yellow fleece blanket, and in his left, a detailed toy fire truck. Being a child with high tension and anxiety, he was no exception to having a 'Linus blanket.'

The frosted glass door of the examination room opened, and a dental hygienist wearing an apron with a catchy animal print visited us with a beaming smile and crouched down in front of him.

'You look cool! Do you like cars?'

He, who had been trembling in fear of what might happen, looked as surprised as if he had been shot by a pea shooter at the unexpected remark, and then gave a small nod.

'Can you show me, little one?'

Convinced that she understood him, he proudly held out the fire truck he was holding in his left hand. The dental hygienist then cheered and rejoiced as if it were a big deal.

'There are cool trains and cars in that room over there. Do you want to go see them with me?'

Invited like that, my son nodded with a beaming smile and entered the unknown world behind the frosted glass without hesitation.
He let go of the yellow security blanket he had been holding.

This all happened in just a few minutes.
I hurriedly tucked the blanket he had discarded without a second thought into my backpack and followed after him.

Inside the examination room, there were gadgets everywhere to catch a child's attention, and not only the dental hygienists but also the dentist were kind and gentle, taking their time and empathizing with the child's feelings rather than rushing the work. I was deeply moved.

In this way, the first dental visit for my difficult, fearful child, which I had dreaded so much, was smartly guided by professionals, and I was able to finish it safely without having to try hard at all.

When I thanked them on our way out, the dentist smiled and said this to me:

'You are already doing more than enough as a mother, so please leave this to us.'

To my shame, I cried.
I became pregnant after a battle with illness, and just when I thought I had overcome the severe morning sickness and entered a stable period, I was plunged into the COVID-19 pandemic and gave birth at a university hospital under high-alert conditions. On top of that, we are a freelance, self-employed couple, and I was the main breadwinner. My sensitive husband, who had many corporate contracts, was quite devastated by the successive loss of work, and even I, who have considerable mental toughness, was exhausted by the bank balance that was decreasing at a speed I had never seen before and the continuous series of difficult judgments and choices I had never experienced.

I imagine the dental clinic must have also faced great hardships in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet, they even took the time to empathize with the parent.

Since then, my son and I have been going for checkups about every three months, for regular fluoride treatments, and for brushing guidance. Once his molars came in, he also had sealants applied. Thanks to that, he hasn't had a single cavity to this day.

Having built a solid relationship of trust with the dentist and the dental hygienists, he now enters the exam room without hesitation, lies down on the bed all by himself, and stays quiet while intently watching the old cartoons playing on the monitor above him.
Seeing this, the dentist and the hygienists smile warmly and say, "You've become such a big boy." It feels as warm as being with distant relatives.

Having started going before he could even remember, and never having had a bad experience, he has immense trust in "the dentist," and his awareness of dental and oral health is incredibly high. He never complains about brushing or flossing, and he never misses using his fluoride-containing toothpaste gel.

The other day, the inside of the mouth of a girl in a coloring book illustration was colored in black.
When I asked him what this meant, he whispered with a solemn expression.

"She didn't brush or floss, so she got a cavity."

I burst out laughing at the ruthless reality recreated within the fancy coloring book illustration.

"She has to go to the dentist and have the doctor fix it, right?"

And with that, he smiled triumphantly, showing off his own sparkling teeth.