Monster Baby Teeth
In the midst of an ER visit for me, and another ER visit for Hayden, something possibly far more tragic has happened. A crisis that was as much physical as it was emotional. You can read about it… Now!
I am about to reveal something about myself that many people do not know.
There is a part of my body that isn’t real.
I’ll give you a hint. It’s not my boobs. I know, I know, you can’t believe it, right?
Back in the days of tie died t-shirts, crushes on boys, and obsessive gum-chewing, I wore braces. Like almost everyone else. I hated those braces. I didn’t get them put on until I was FIFTEEN (not cool, Mom, not cool), when everyone else was already sporting their perfect smiles. I had rubber bands and would double, and sometimes even triple, them up to get my teeth to move faster. It worked, because I got my braces off a few months early (yay!) and traded them for a big-girl retainer.
Despite wearing that retainer every night, my teeth moved, leaving a space between my two front teeth. That I hated.
I am not Lauren Hutton.
Life went on, I grew up, I met a boy, and we got engaged. I was thirty years old, about to get married, and my teeth started bothering me again. I decided to get them fixed for good. So, minor gum surgery and four porcelain veneers later, I had an even smile. One that I was proud of. I felt pretty!
But beauty comes at a price, right?
When my mouth was being prepped for the veneers, they whittled my teeth down to make room for the veneers. So underneath the gleaming perfection in my mouth are these little monster baby teeth. Nobody has ever seen those little teeth. Not over my dead body.
Since day one of my smile transformation, I have had nightmares about my teeth falling out. And today, my worse nightmare came true. More than eight years after receiving my new smile, one of my veneers fell off. I actually dreamed about that tooth last night- perhaps the bonding came loose in my sleep- but all I know is I was brushing my teeth this morning and the damned thing came off. Revealing the monster baby tooth.
“Scott! Get the number for the dentist!”
“Can I see?”
Look away I’m ugly!
Hello, dentist? One of my veneers just popped off and I am freaking out right now. No, you didn’t put them on, another dentist did almost a decade ago.
Did I mention that I am FREAKING OUT?
Great. See you then.
I won’t dare show you a picture of the myself with the monster baby teeth because I’d risk losing all five of my readers, and I will spare you the details of what followed. But several unexpected trips to the dentist’s office, a few tears and an unfortunate sum of money later, my mouth is fixed. Does it look exactly like it did before? No, but Scott says it looks better. Needless to say, I’ll be wearing a nightguard from now on.