Does pregnancy ruin your teeth?

All right, I’ll admit it. I don’t have the best teeth in the entire world. It’s a family thing. None of my family has good teeth. To be honest, though, I’m pretty sure I’ve got the best out of the bunch. I’ve never had to have a root canal, after all.

A dental hygienist once told me that everyone has either an acidic or a base mouth and that people with one get a lot of cavities and people with the other tend to get gingivitis. I fall into the cavity category. No matter how well I take care of my teeth, I still get cavities. It’s frustrating!

I’ll also admit that I don’t floss like I should. I probably floss about once a week. I do, however, use a pre-mouth wash (for plaque – to see where it is) and Listerine Whitening mouth wash before I brush. After brushing for three solid minutes (I have a timer), I use Listerine Cavity Defense mouth wash. I do what I can, basically, to prevent cavities. Since I’m pregnant, I’ve given up all caffeine, so I know that helps a little too. I also brush on a minimum of twice a day.

So, why is it that since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve started having teeth pain? I’ve never had teeth pain in my life! It’s not a consistent pain by any means. It’s not sensitive to heat or cold. It’s only sensitive to irritation (like if I poke on it to see if it’s a cavity or if I brush it). I know that it’s the teeth since my dentist only recently told me that I have incredibly healthy gums.

Tonight, I gave my mouth a close look and, sure enough, #14 and #19 appear to have cavities on the exterior side. #20 has a funky vein-looking thing on it, maybe an 1/8 of an inch or so long, also on the exterior side. The space between #2 and #3 is sensitive on the inside but does not appear to have any cavities.

These cavities were NOT there two months ago. And I don’t want them to be there now, either. What gives?

The question – does pregnancy ruin your teeth? Is there anyway to prevent tooth decay while pregnant? Did your teeth act up during [any of] your pregnancy?

Pregnancy Milestones

Four days before my baby gets a heartbeat, and I’ve already reached two (semi-) major milestones.

My mother and my sisters warned me that the first would come one time. Just wait, they said. Wait. Just wait until you get to the point where you sneeze and you wet your pants. I, of course – being the naïve pregnant female that I am – laughed. I would never reach that point, of that I was certain.

Uhm, yeah. I reached that point today. On the bright side, since I was already in the bathroom, on the toilet, it was funnier than it was sad.

Still. I reached a milestone.

The second milestone would be the phase-of-disgusting-food-combinations. As I’ve been craving a banana split for the past couple of days, Shane got the great idea that we go to Sonic when he gets off of work. He tried to talk me into eating a cheeseburger before I ordered my banana split, but I was not having any of that. He ordered both at the same time, and I very nearly starting eating my dessert before we even had the opportunity to pray!

I sat there in the car, alternating between inhaling the ice cream and snacking on the burger. At one point in time, in an attempt to be a somewhat sensible adult, I even relinquished the banana split and concentrated on the burger.

That kind of lasted as long as it took me to break off a piece of burger… and see that banana split sitting right there. Looking so good. So cold. So… I wonder how it would ta- The thought hadn’t even completed itself when my hands took over and the action was completed.

Yes, you guessed it! I, the person who will eat nothing even remotely disgusting, found that dipping a cheeseburger into ice cream is quite delicious.

Second milestone reached.

Growing, Growing...

Lindsay, Liz, and I went to dinner the other night at Roaster’s and, man, do I wish I had tried this place years ago. So good! And, believe it or not, so much better than Boston Market!

The dinner conversation, as most of them are doing these days, rotated around the topic of the new baby. Everyone has advice; everyone has suggestions. My poor husband has no idea what he’s gotten us into, and even he has suggestions for me!

At this time, though, the topic of what’s-best-for-the-baby came up. I was amused to find a pretty high dichotomy within both Lindsay and myself. Lindsay is very much pro-organic foods and all natural products during the pregnancy but strongly supports the idea of a drugged labor and delivery. I, on the other, am concerned (but not overly) with going all organic and natural during the pregnancy but am determined to go through the labor and delivery without any drugs. Add on top of that Shane’s and my decision to circumcise any son we have, and it gets to be a bit funny. How on earth can we be pro-natural in one circumstance, but pro-medical in another?

Speaking of, I found the place that I want to deliver! It's called the Austin Area Birthing Center, and as soon as I found it on the internet, I knew I wanted to deliver there. They offer individualized birthing rooms with queen size beds and tubs for laboring and/or delivering. Since it's all midwifes, they'll also support my plan to go au naturel. For those worried, it's located no more than ten minutes from two major hospitals - and only ten minutes from Shane's and my new apartment. Not the best part but still incredibly awesome is that it's all-inclusive (minus the diagnostic ultrasound and lamaze classes) and it's less than $4000.

It has been nine days since we found out that we’d conceived a baby, and the changes in my body are already evident – at least to me. It’s true what they say: you’re never just a little bit pregnant. In the last week, I’ve noticed my breasts getting larger and my stomach rounding out. I feel fat most of the time right now and have already began losing muscle mass in my stomach – meaning that it’s no longer quite so easy to hold it in. You know that line that most females have, moving horizontally across their belly button? Where the skin folds over itself when you sit? Yeah, that’s disappearing too. Quickly.

To prove that I’m not just losing my mind, I took the following picture. I'm 4 weeks, 5 days in it. Please excuse how blurry it is; for some reason, my camera is acting up. It does this every once in a while, especially since Shane likes to take it out to shoot thunderstorms. :-)

Fairytales Do Come True

It’s funny how your entire life changes the moment you see the word pregnant printed clear-as-day on The Most Sophisticated Piece of Technology You’ve Ever Peed On™.

Pregnancy is the one thing in the world on which you can’t change your mind. You can date someone without marrying them. Drive a car without buying it. Travel to a city without moving there. You can’t, however, get pregnant and then change your mind. To a woman who has taken freedom for granted, this is quite the shock.

At first, I paced the floor for a good hour, muttering the same thing over and over again. Uh-oh Uh-oh Uh oh… I walked past the Answer! pregnancy test, but the two pink lines didn’t disappear. I called my best friend Gina and my mother, then I raced to Walmart and purchased three more tests. Half an hour later, one more spoke of the miracle.

I am pregnant.

Wow.

It is so hard to believe that I am here. Married. Pregnant. My life is all I’ve ever dreamed of and, sometimes, it’s hard to wrap your mind that your fantasy actually is your reality. How’s that quote go? You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Shane and I met on April 6, 2007. I had just moved back to Missouri City, Texas from Atlanta, Georgia and I was searching for some new friends. He had a picture of a motorcycle as his main photo on MySpace, so I messaged him: Nice bike. Is it yours?

He wrote back, explaining that he was at his mother’s, was on his way home, and didn’t have access to the computer there. He left me his e-mail address and phone number. On April 11, I began e-mailing him on and on April 13, I called him. On April 16, he left work early to attend the Jagermeister concert with my cousin and me.

We were friends. Strictly friends. Good friends. We saw each other a second time for my sister’s 31st birthday party on May 12. Still friends. Good friends. The last weekend of June came, and Shane joined me at my brother and sister-in-law’s house for a night of babysitting. I remember that weekend perfectly. I was rocking my nephew Bobby to sleep and Shane came into the nursery. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched me. I watched him back, and I thought, I can see this being us. Being our life. Later, he admitted to having thought the same thing.

The next week, I was offered a great job opportunity in Atlanta, Georgia. Shane was the first person I went to for advice, and he encouraged me to take it. I was to move in mid August, so our last hurrah was a Blue October concert on August 4. It was that night that, in the middle of all the noise and chaos, he looked at me and asked, “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“Yep,” I responded.

That was Saturday night. Sunday night, we spent the whole night on the telephone talking. 402 straight minutes. We discussed how a relationship between us would work. How a relationship between us couldn’t work. How it was all insane and crazy and it felt so perfect.

Wednesday night (August 8, 2007), we shared a leg-popping, breath-stealing kiss in the parking lot of Starbucks. Friday night, I met his best friend Paul. Saturday night, the two of them met my entire family. Tuesday, August 14th, I realized that I needed to break up with him. We’d been together just a week and I already recognized the signs. He had the ability to break my heart, and a broken heart wasn’t what I wanted.

While surfing the internet, looking at wedding dresses, I e-mailed him at work and asked him to meet up with me. That night, he called my cell phone and asked to speak to my mother. She and I were at Garden Ridge Pottery then. A few minutes later, Mom dropped me off at Starbucks, and Shane was sitting outside at a table for two with a dozen red roses on top.

I have no idea what he said. I don’t remember his words. I don’t know who was watching. Everyone else disappeared the minute his mouth started moving. He got down on one knee and, on August 14, 2007, he proposed.

I moved to Atlanta three days later and, three months after that, Shane followed me. We returned to Texas in early February and were married in League City on February 9, 2008.

If the engagement had been a dream, then the marriage must be a fantasy. A realistic fantasy. We have our ups and downs. We’re both stubborn. We’re both youngest children; we like getting our own way. Shane loves to ride his bike without gear, and I’m a strong believer that leather is mandatory. He’s Church of Christ; I’m Baptist. We’re both devout, faithful Christians. We love our families. We love children. We love the sound of a powerful engine. He likes action movies; I like comedies. I want a large family; he wants a small. He’s a smoker; I’m a severe asthmatic.

It’s a life of compromise. Of learning how to fight. Of learning how not to walk away. Of learning how to hold on tight when everything else is falling apart.

In Atlanta, Shane started his dream job in car sales. In May, I lost my dream job at the new company. It shut down suddenly one day, the owner refusing and/or unable to pay any of the employees. (I had to file my first ever police report, and it was not fun!) I lost my health insurance, and my asthma got even worse. We played with the idea of going back home to Texas. We could go to Austin, where we’ve always talked of one day moving.

And suddenly it was all happening. We found out on Tuesday June 17 that if we wanted to move to Austin, we could do so on July 17. We found out that he can basically transfer to a dealership there – a dealership that is the number one in the state! I got a call for an interview with a job that I really want. (I’m now on the fourth interview!) The next day, we made the decision to take the opportunity, and it the deal was sealed. On July 17, 2008, we’ll be leaving Atlanta for Austin.

Exactly a week later, the next news arrived. Pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

There’s a little life forming inside of me. A dozen cells made up of Shane and me, mapping themselves out to create a little teeny tiny human. It’s making my breasts hurt and its making me wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I’ve started getting crazy pains in my legs, and I hate the mornings since that’s when I’m naseous.

I’m also terrified. There’s a little life forming inside of me, and I have no health insurance to protect it. I don’t like that. I know I have options, and I plan on exercising them, but – for now – I worry. This little being-to-be has only me to depend on right now. I will do right by it.

We’re having a baby!