This is not a sponsored post. You know this because I am going to start out by telling you how much I hate the dentist.
I had some terrible childhood experiences with a bad dentist – a dentist who was bad enough that someone else in my family got all his teeth pulled out at 16 just so he wouldn’t have to go back to that dentist…. I mean, it was really that bad.
Besides that, I had braces from second grade to twelfth grade, plus a palate expander three times.
Then when Nathan and I got married, I had to get a new tooth capped for every pregnancy and miscarriage I had.
Then cancer chemo mouth, which has nearly destroyed me with nastiness.
When we lived in Owasso, I had a home teacher who was a dentist, and that just seemed like a bad joke. He was awesome, though, and saw us every month even though I growled at him. Nathan tried to get me to see him, since he was a priesthood holder, but I was too scared to change from my other dentist and start over.
But moving to Bartlesville meant needing a new dentist, and we have had a terrible time finding one. Our first one disappeared a week after we went, and so did all our records. Then I missed my next appointment because I was in Ohio with the baby.
Now it was time again, and we still needed a new dentist, and it’s hard to find dentists who will take foster kids – even if they are adopted (because it means they are Medicaid).
But Nathan had found one who would see our kids and that he seemed to like, and I was out of options.
So a new dentist it was.
We lose our health insurance this month, and so I had no time left to delay.
Nathan promised me that having a priesthood holder dentist would make a difference, somehow.
I whined like a child, and even tried stomping my foot.
But I went, because who wants to get showed-up by the 7 year old who went yesterday?
I won’t say I liked the dentist, because, you know, dentist.
But. I will maybe confess, that for the first time ever, it was actually okay. Even with a lot of work being done.
Not pleasant. Because dentist.
And by okay, I mean, not terrible.
I mean everyone was really nice and gentle and kind, even if it was the dentist.
And no one shamed me or made fun of me just because my mouth is gross.
Which is important to me in a dentist office, not just because of me, but because I have a PRS and cleft palate baby with all kinds of wonky tooth problems plus no enamel on them plus missing ones from distraction plus overcrowding because her jaw is too small. So she is going to need serious dental help, and finding a safe place for her to endure more medical drama is important to me. Even if it means making her see a dentist the way Nathan makes me.
Because what good is the plan of happiness without a smile?
I’m just saying.