My Trip to the Dentist

If I had to write a letter to a newly bereaved mom, or, I suppose to anyone who hasn't ever endured this horrible torture, I would share with them a few surprising things that will be, without a doubt, ridiculously hard.

Now, it's not surprising that things are hard because quite frankly, everything is hard.  What is surprising is the emotional turmoil we experience on a fairly regular basis, and the places that bring that pain.  But then also how surprisingly enough, that pain can be beautiful.

There are the obvious places.  The doctor's office.  Your last visit there you were pregnant and happy and hopeful.  So you know it will be a bit rough but SURPRISE!!  There is a baby scale in the room <-- seriously? You know that I'm coming in, without my baby, do you think you could have moved it?  Cue the tears.

The OB's office.  Another obviously obvious.  So obvious that I almost forgot about it.  The one ounce of tolerable pain is that some kind OBs will take you in for your 6 week check up after hours, so you don't have to see any pregnant, happy and hopeful ladies.  BUT, when three or four months have passed and you're going in to discuss your dead baby's autopsy report SURPRISE!! The receptionist is going to be calling new moms, congratulating them on their babies and booking their 6 week appointments.  Cue the tears.

Then there are the less obvious ones.

The week after Ethan was born and died, my chiropractor called, innocently enough, asking if I was able to get any sleep with the new baby at home.  Cue the tears.

A couple of weeks after Ethan was born and died, my massage therapist called, innocently enough, asking how it was going with the baby an if I needed her to come and do an "on site" massage so as to not disturb the baby.  Cue the tears.

The list goes on and on.  Especially if you are a regular at any of these places.

But then there is the dentist.  Ahh, the dentist.  So easy to forget about that twice a year trip.  Thankfully, one of my friends had already experienced the dentist... in her experience, the hygienist had said that they would be fairly quick so she could get home to her baby.  ARGH!  So I was on high alert.  I KNEW the dentist was probably going to be hard.  It wasn't going to be a surprise attack for me... but I was hopeful that I could sneak by.

I got into the office and the receptionist who "knows" me, wasn't there!  Score one for me.  Then my "normal" hygienist wasn't there either!  Whoop whoop.  So I'm all settled in the chair and the hygienist says "I saw in your chart, the last time you were here you were pregnant.  How's the baby?".  And you know what?  I knew something like this would happen so I was a bit protected and I wasn't thrown off, but it still threw me a little bit.  Cue the tears.  And the hygienist cried.  

Then I went to pay and of course, my receptionist was there, wondering why I was there during the day.  Cue the tears.  And the hygienist had to explain what happened...  

But then, something beautiful happened.  I got to talk about my beautiful, handsome son.  And share pictures.  And cry.  And have hugs from these ladies that I hardly know.  But most importantly, I got to share Ethan.

I guess I have reached the stage where I can find the positive in little things.