Can I have some novocaine, too?

I feel so bad for my dental hygienist.

First, she had the privilege of me as a patient.  Let me bring you up to speed on my dental history:

1987 (oh yeah, I'm that old) - Six teeth pulled (baby teeth) due to overcrowding.  Top two and bottom four.  I hated it, but my adult teeth were coming in and the baby ones would not budge.  I got ice cream afterwards, so score.

1988 - 1992 - Several more baby teeth pulled when they wouldn't budge.  I think I've only lost about 10 teeth "naturally".  Somewhere in here I also have four premolars and four molars pulled. Permanent teeth.  Yep.  I have 24 teeth.  And my mouth is still crowded.

1993 - The Great Braces Debacle begins. I get spacers, bands, brackets, wires, the whole nine.  I'm a hip early nineties kid, so I go for the practically invisible neon pink and green rubber bands.  I'm in them for three years.

1996 - Braces come off, retainers go on.  I accidentally throw one in the trash compactor in the school cafeteria and spend a full class period digging through rejected lunches and empty pudding cups.  I added my own regurgitated offering to the pile when I was done.

1997 - Wisdom teeth get pulled - four of 'em.  I'm knocked out but right back up that evening.  Chumbawumba, dude.

1998 - 2008 - Pretty regular dental history. They try to convince me to have jaw surgery to realign my overbite. This does not happen, and I deal with it.  (insert sunglasses)  Unfortunately, teeth go back to crowded and crooked, despite the previous measures.

2013 - I return to the dentist, this morning, after a forgotten absence of 5 years.  Good news - still zero cavities.

Bad news?  Aside from the discomfort of cleaning ultra-sensitive gums with a pointy metal stick, I have a full on panic attack and end up bawling like a three-year-old who just dropped their lollipop in ants.  ANTS.

I have no idea why the dentist of all places got to me.  The television was on, some stupid "eligible doctor" special on Dr. Oz.  So nothing triggering there.  No one was talking about babies, mentioning children, there weren't even any kids present that early in the a.m.  No 'Parenting' magazines in plain site, no preggos, no pictures even.  Nothing that you think would trigger such an emotional reaction.

Since I had gone five years (!!) without a cleaning, I knew it was going to be painful.  My gums are always super sensitive and lets be honest - who likes someone poking around your gumline with metal prongs?  I wasn't prepared for the emotions it dredged up, however.  I was cringing, literally writhing in the chair, grabbing one thumb in a vice with the other hand and squeezing my eyes shut as tight as possible.  She noticed my distress and asked if I needed a minute.  And the tears started streaming down the side of my face.

She got me a tissue and left me alone for a while.  I couldn't help it, I had to cry.  I cried because it hurt.  I cried because it was something I put off while I was pregnant, and doing it was a cold reminder of why I was now able to. I cried because my daughter would never cut her first tooth, or lose it, or even have to endure braces.  I cried and cried and cried, alone in that mobile chair, while Judge Alex prattled on in the background.

The hygienist returned and, as is usual in most cases when I have a breakdown, I apologized.  She was nothing but sympathetic.  I explained we had just experienced a really difficult loss, and for some reason I was having a really hard time.  I think I'd put my emotions on the back burner for a while, and the physical pain just hit a nerve, both literally and figuratively.

Then she asked questions - she asked how far along I was, what happened.  How I was dealing with it, what our plans are.  This woman I hadn't seen in several years, to whom I should have been nothing more than just a file on a shelf, asked about my baby.  We talked, she finished the cleaning, and gave me suggestions on keeping better care of my gums in order to have a healthy pregnancy next time.  She has a son the same age as Parker, and we spoke of how much we worry, no matter how old they get or how many eye-rolls and "Mo-omm!"'s we get.  She teared up a little while we talked.

It's been a weird day.  I'm glad my teeth were "ooh shiny" since I had an unexpected mini-interview at work (fingers crossed!).  Then I read my forums and cried.  Then I focused on work.  Driving home I heard a song and teared up.  Got home and I was fine again.  It's not even a "rollercoaster" of emotions - I've been on rollercoasters, I enjoy them.  It's more like a tornado - it sweeps in, seemingly out of nowhere, destroys everything along a mile-long path, and vanishes into the sky as quickly as it came.  It never announces where or when it's touching down, how long it will last, or how bad the damage will be.  It's enough to make me want to dive underground, and seek shelter until it passes.