Impotence

E. had his first ear infection at five months of age. It came on suddenly, the fussing, the fever, the plaintive wails.

Our regular pediatrician was off that day, so I rushed to the office of the pediatrician on call. They said they could see him but the office was packed with the doctor’s regular clientele. We would have to wait.

I held my baby boy close, walking and rocking him as he whimpered and we both wept.

I wasn’t a first-time mom. But it had been 2 ½ year since R. had been born, and everything felt new again.

By the time the nurse called us into the examining room I was crying freely. Fortunately, the doctor was generous. She had us in and out in minutes, with a prescription for Amoxicillin in hand. I was wrung out from hours of living through my child’s pain that I could not heal.

Today, E. had oral surgery—four wisdom teeth pulled and hardware inserted in preparation for braces. He is battered and bruised; swollen and sad. And though, at 16, he is more man than boy, his pain wilts me, in my impotence.