So yesterday I went to the dentist for the first time since my son passed. I’ve been dreading it. I’ve been going there for many, many years. I walk in the door and the receptionist greets me and asks “how are your boys?”
I tell the story, and have barely pulled myself together when the hygienist calls me in and says, “It’s good to see you. How are your boys?” I burst into tears and tell the story again. Horrified, she asks if I’m able to go through with the appointment. I nod, she gives me tissues and again, I get myself under control.
Halfway through the cleaning, the dentist comes in for my checkup. You guessed it. He says, “how are things going? How are your boys.” I fall apart AGAIN. He’s very sympathetic and encouraging. I pull it together and finish the appointment, then go out to pay my bill. Breathe a sigh of relief that the girl is new and won’t ask questions. “Let’s make your appointment for next year,” she says. “How is July 23rd?”
I freeze. July 23rd is my son’s birthday. Coming up fast. It will be the 9 month anniversary of his death. It’s also the six year anniversary of the stillbirth of my grandson who shared a birthday with his daddy. I managed to keep it together this time and just said “I don’t think the 23rd is a great idea.”
She didn’t ask questions, just picked another date and I finally managed to get out of there. But now all I can think of is July 23rd, now less than two weeks away. I’m a mess. How am I going to get through that triple whammy day when I can barely get through a trip to the dentist?
I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I’m sorry this is so long. I really needed to vent. Pic below is my son Joshua, F31, and his son Kyler, who never drew a breath. My heart is broken. 💔💔💔
Credit: Lori Vanwyck