Six down, two to go

I have been plotting and scheming how to accomplish safely having the toxic amalgam fillings taken out of my mouth since we first received Big O and my urine porphyrins test results in January 2008.

I have spent a lot of time researching mercury toxicity and amalgam dental fillings. I have spent a lot of time learning about safe and unsafe methods of removal of mercury-containing dental amalgam. I have spent a lot of time debating in my own scientific mind whether this was all a bunch of hoopla or if it was truly possible that the amalgam fillings that have been in my mouth since my childhood have been slowly emitting toxic mercury into my body over the years and that this amount of mercury was stealthily affecting my health. It has been upsetting me to think it was possible that the stores of mercury throughout my body were pulled into my womb, infiltrating my placenta and my growing baby’s tissues during my pregnancies.

It’s been nagging at me that the dentist in Virginia that replaced an old amalgam while Big O was but a few-months-old-nursling was completely in compliance with currently accepted protocol in the U.S. Stupidly Naïvely, the only thing I thought to ask about was the anesthetic. This dentist assured me that not even the anesthetic would be problematic in my breastmilk, but that if I wanted to pump-and-dump between my appointment and feeding Big O next, this would be more than sufficient to protect my baby from any harm done during my dental visit.

After learning what I’ve learned as a non-dental professional about mercury in amalgams, I have been in awe that it could even be possible that that dentist can truly be so naïve about the harm not only to my newborn breastfeeding baby, but to myself, with the reckless ADA-approved amalgam removal. (The FDA had added a warning to it’s website - which, by the way, has now been replaced with a much less direct and inconclusive notice regarding a recent FDA decision.)

And then, after a lot of curiosity and wondering, I learned more and I got angry. Really, really angry. This is MERCURY we are talking about. Mercury. As in ‘mad as a hatter’ mercury. As in brain damaging, lethally toxic mercury. And it is put it in children’s mouths in the form of amalgam fillings in the U.S. to this day. It is a disgrace.

I cringe to think how often a new amalgam is placed in a child’s mouth each day in our country. I cringe to think of how often a new amalgam filling is placed in American’s mouths each day. I cringe to think of how often an amalgam filling is improperly and unsafely removed each day.

My mouth was full of them. My earliest memories of going to a dentist involve getting cavities drilled and filled. I used to get tense and grasp the arm rest on the chair, and stare at the lights on the ceiling while in the dentist’s chair – from start to finish. I remember having shavings and bits of metallic stuff stuck to my tongue and scratching my throat. I remember swallowing little pieces as I tried not to gag during the procedures.

As an adult, the fillings began to require replacement due to their age and more recently developed decay. During the first few replacements with dentists who took no amalgam removal precautions, before I knew enough, I can remember having large pieces of amalgam slide far back in my throat to inescapably be swallowed. I would scream inside my head – suction!! suction!!!!!! please, suction back there!!!! But with hands and drills inside my mouth, no words, or even sounds, would actually be created and those toxic bits of metal slithered down to make their way through my GI tract. (At least I hope they made it through and did not get stuck somewhere in there along the way. I’ve read one story of someone who had an amalgam stuck in their gall bladder, confirmed via x-ray.)

And, to think, I didn’t even realize or appreciate the atrocity of what was happening. Until now.

Six down, two to go. Saturday will be the day that the final amalgam filling comes out and the only crown I currently have will be replaced. (The crown must be replaced because there is a very good chance that there is amalgam underneath it and to eliminate all metal from my mouth.) It has been taxing – a strain on my body and a drain on our budget – but I am so looking forward to being amalgam-free and beginning my chelation journey.

I hope to find time to write more about the actual amalgam removal process that I’ve been going through (with a wonderful holistic dentist) and to certainly keep you posted on the mercury chelation/detoxification process. Stay tuned.

Colorful observation

Yesterday, the boys were coloring and I observed something very interesting. Little O seems to really notice that the coloring pages have outlines of distinct objects, individual parts to color. He's two and a half. He does not stay within the lines, per se, but he clearly tries to color objects on the page as if each is an individual entity.

Big O was never one to color 'within the lines' or to even notice that a coloring page was anything more than a blank canvas. This is something I love to observe when he colors - shear disregard for anyone else's impression of what should be. I embrace it and figure there is no need to interrupt his creativity to explain to him that the generally accepted "norm" is to color within the given lines. Why? Why do we feel so compelled to instruct children to color within the lines? It's not like I did not have the urge in the beginning to suggest he try staying in the lines, but for whatever reason, my intuition told me to stop and think about it before saying anything.

There were times I had to really bite my tongue when I've heard someone make a comment to him, such as "Oh, you almost stayed in the lines" or "That's nice, but next time try to stay in the lines more." Most have been very polite and considerate in their attempts to teach Big O to conform to the conventional coloring page wisdom, which I do appreciate. In return, instead of requesting that the critics keep their coloring restrictions to themselves, I just try distracting Big O by asking him what color he was using or if he wanted some tape to hang up his masterpiece and encouraging him to keep coloring however he likes.

Before today, I sort of figured Big O's coloring style was common among all young children until the 'coloring rules' are explained and the child learns otherwise. But yesterday, Little O's coloring inspired me to wonder a bit more about this.

I'm sure there are lots of ways to analyze this coloring observation and what it might mean or imply about the Os - their personalities, their artistic abilities, their intelligence, who knows what scientists of all sorts might say in this regard? The mother in me overrules the scientist in me on this one - she's cheering them both on and looking forward to watching their artistic sides continue to evolve with as little analysis and interruption as possible.

Happy coloring, boys!

Our Own Sauce

One evening, not long ago, Big O was helping cook supper when he looked at the label on a jar of spaghetti sauce (for GF spaghetti, of course. . .) and declared to me that if we had the items pictured on that label, that we could make our own sauce. I told him that we definitely could and that I hoped we would be able to make our own sauce from the tomatoes, garlic, basil, and onions that are growing in our own back yard. (Mushrooms - yeah, I'm gonna leave those to the experts and buy them at the store!)

He's been avidly watching the progress of our garden. He and Little O have enjoyed some sweet peas right off the vine lately. A small handful of pea pods a day for a while. They've also sampled the basil on numerous occasions, and harvested a few cucumbers and a couple of daikon radishes. (They weren't too keen on the daikon radish - I'll be curious to see what these radishes taste like after fermenting for a while.)

Not long ago, tomatoes began to appear on our tomato plants, small and green at first. Some of the pear tomatoes began to ripen, turning yellow and bursting with juicy flavor. The mariglobe and jubilee tomatoes were still green, but getting larger every day. Big O saw these bigger, rounder green tomatoes begin to take on a little bit of and orangy-red hue and got very excited. He exclaimed that soon we'd be able to make our own sauce!

Last night, I was watering the garden after the Os had gone to sleep and I picked our first three marglobe heirloom tomatoes. I should've waited to let the boys pick them, but I just couldn't wait! They looked so inviting and delicious! There are dozens (if not hundreds?) more plump tomatoes in various shades of green, yellow, and reddish-orangish-pink, so the boys will have plenty to pick, too.

Though the smaller tomato did not last long, I've managed to hold back from devouring the other two just yet. Another day or two on the vine might have been in order (I always get overly-eager with the first few ripe tomatoes of the season!), so they'll be on the window sill for a short spell.

We've still got plenty of fresh basil growing. As for the garlic and onion. . . I am pretty sure we planted these way too late in the spring - and I'm not sure how productive these will turn out to be. But maybe I can get some organic, local (as in, within Altadena!) garlic and onion by swapping some of our home grown goods within our neighborhood produce exchange group.

Of course, unlike what Big O saw on the label of the jar of sauce, we'll need a few more than two tomatoes. My prediction is that we'll be making our homemade sauce for gluten-free spaghetti by month's end . . . if we can manage to not gobble up all the tomatoes straight from the vine!