I took Little One to the dentist today. He did so well, he's my hero. I get nervous at the dentist and shaky. He sat there, got two tiny cavities DRILLED and filled with no anesthesia! No topical, no shot, no gas. The dentist told him to raise his hand if it hurt. He never did so the dentist kept going until he was done. Little One got up when it was over said,"Thank You" and walked away. With a smile, no less! I on the other hand would have had the shots (as many as possible) and STILL been a baby about it. I hate going to the dentist. So anyway...
The dentist comes out (before) and gives me this long speech about how children do better apart from their parents and why I shouldn't go in. I agreed but said I was still going in with him. We were called back a few minutes later and his assistant tells me I should stay in the waiting room. No, I'm going in with him! "Oh, I see" she almost whispers as she cautiously slithers away. We get comfortable (as if thats possible) in the room. Mr. Dentist comes in and AGAIN lectures me on why I shouldn't be in there and tells me that if Little One gives him any problem he will stop and refer me to another dentist, whom he adds would not let me back there with Little One.
By now I, yes I not Little One am experiencing pre-seperation anxiety and my eyes start to mist. I then tell him "Look, I've gone through eighteen years of infertility, and lost two babies before him. I'm NOT leaving him now!" He gave me a blank, almost hurt stare and turned away and finished his job without another word to me. I felt like crap. I played the dead babies card. I swore to myself that I would NEVER do that! Here I was telling an almost complete stranger about my babies for my own gain (his sympathy I guess.) I was so ashamed I cried. Yes, that would be ME bawling like a baby in PUBLIC. I felt like I had betrayed my babies and their memories.
It appeared to have worked.
When he was done with Little One he turned to me with a pained expression and said, "My wife and I went through infertility too, and we lost a baby before our little girl. I'm sorry." What? In all my self pity I didn't even recognize that he was hurting too. Wasn't I supposed to have some sort of sixth sense about these things now? If I am, I haven't as of yet had that sense bestowed on me.
I left feeling sympathy for the dentist, pride for my Little One and ashamed of myself.