When my daughter, Imogen, was seven years old, she sat on Santa’s lap in the shopping centre, closest to our house and asked for one thing.
She asked for new teeth.
Grade two had been particularly hard for Immy as she had been the brunt of playground teasing by some horrid little girls who obviously thought they were perfect and could therefore pass judgement.
Santa was confused and called me over, as Immy had started to cry.
I explained that Immy had Ectodermal Dysplasia and that it affected her teeth in such a way that it gave them a conical appearance, pointy, or fang like and that the girls had been calling her “crocodile teeth” for the larger part of the year.
So her request for new teeth was in response to that.
He didn’t promise Immy new teeth that year but he did tell her he would give her a happy Christmas and that one day, things would be different for her.
He told her she was a very beautiful girl.
He was a very wise Santa.
The very next year Immy was given an official diagnosis of ED, which allowed her to be placed on a register for kids like her.
It allowed her to have extensive dental work, under the scheme.
This year has seen the placement of braces and capping to square off her teeth. The next stage will see her have implants to replace the teeth that are missing.
This morning, she reminded me of her wish when she was little and how Santa had come through.
She is on the way to having new teeth.
Things have been different for her this year. There has been a level of acceptance and understanding from her friends that is mature beyond their years, many of whom are staring down the face of braces themselves
and
she is still very beautiful.
Inside and out.
Also blogging at Three Ring Circus.