I am now under attack internally in TWO ways. It’s not bad enough that Wiggly has 947 elbows and 356 knees moving around all damn day, but now, my mouth is under attack.
This is a new one for me. Apparently when you’re pregnant, your blood volume increases dramatically (which makes sense) and so anything blood-filled on your body swells.
(Which is also why they say pregnant women – for awhile – have great sex. You know, from the extra, uh, swelling. You get the picture. I don’t. Because I’d have to be able to be comfortable for more than, say, 2 minutes to pull that off. But that’s another post altogether. Hi, Dad.)
So, my gums are swollen. Everywhere. They bleed if I look at them funny. I have weird swollen areas that are not enhancing my smile at all. And my breath? Notsogood.
The hotness. It is overwhelming.
And so, tomorrow, I’m off to my dentist. Who, coincidentally, is my dad’s best friend and an all around groovy dude. Who will probably laugh his ass off at me upon looking in my mouth. Here’s how cool he is: At our wedding, he walked up to Husband and I to offer his congratulations, gave us each a big hug and kiss and then announced, “You are not going to believe how much of [Dad]’s free liquor I’m going to drink tonight!” Love it.
If I didn’t like this guy so much, I’d dread this. ‘Cause the thought of scraping, spitting and scrubbing? Ew ew ew. But, if it helps, I’m all for it.
How many more days????