Pregnancy Phobias

I am a phobic person as is. Add pregnancy hormones, and I become borderline crazy with random fears. I think most women have their share of pregnancy phobias. I just like to take it the extra mile! For example, for some reason, when I can't get a hold of my husband right away, I instantly jump to the conclusion that he has been in a fiery car crash or something like that. This crazy fear had me close to tears about a month ago when Nic was a little late to a doctor's appointment and his phone battery had died. I don't know why I always jump to the worst case scenario, but I do! Sometimes a pregnant woman will become almost superstitious in her fears. If I hear that a friend ate a chocolate shake right before she went into pre-term labor, I won't touch a chocolate shake. And I have my share of good luck items that I hold onto and bad luck items that I avoid like the plague. Then there are all those rules and suggestions that are found in pregnancy books--from hot dogs to sandwich meats to lying on your back...when you're pregnant and have a little growing baby inside of you who depends on you, the world suddenly becomes a very scary place.
Well, today I overcame a fear. I went to the dentist. I know that pregnant women go to the dentist all the time, no big deal. I know that all the books say that visiting the dentist is a good thing. My doctor told me that it would be a good thing for me to do, and I trust my doctor. Fact: Gum disease can lead to pre-term labor and other problems. However, I have had this insane fear of going to the dentist. I didn't have this fear as a child necessarily. As a tween, I had braces and thus had monthly appointments with the orthodontist. This led to a great dislike of all things dental, but not an irrational fear. I will admit that shortly after I graduated from high school and flew the coop, I didn't go to the dentist again for over a decade. I will not incriminate myself by saying exactly how many years! I will also admit that I'm not the best at flossing, but I know that I'm not alone on that one! Finally, I went to the dentist when I was pregnant with Sam. I told the dentist how long it had been since I had seen a dentist, and he was very impressed with the state of my teeth, despite my lack of dental visits. No cavities. No problems. (In an attempt to make myself feel better about admitting to rarely going to the dentist and to keep you from thinking less of me, let it be noted that in a college science class we did the old swab your mouth and see what's growing under the microscope experiment, and the professor complimented me saying that "I had the cleanest mouth with the least amount of bacterias" he had ever seen. Just so you know!)
Anyway, when Sam was a few months old, I received a terrible text from one of my good friends that she had lost her baby at 28 weeks. I remember just holding Sam and crying. It was such a devastating thing to happen. This is when my fear of dentists was planted deep within my heart. The last time that she really remembered feeling the baby move was when she was at the dentist. She doesn't know why her baby died, and it is highly unlikely that it had anything to do with the dentist, however, right then and there I vowed never to see a dentist when I was pregnant.
But then I kept reading about the importance of seeing the dentist, and my doctor recommended it, and then my dentist sent me a postcard, and I was starting to feel like maybe I should just do it. I realized that my fear had no foundation and was irrational, but it didn't make it any easier to make that appointment. Finally, when my dentist's office randomly called me the other day to see if I wanted to come in for a check-up, I figured it was a sign that I needed to overcome my fear and just do it. So, this morning I brushed my teeth, flossed for the first time in a long time, had my husband say a prayer with me to calm my nerves, and headed off to the dentist. And, happily, all went well. It was actually a pleasant visit and once again, the dentist said everything looked great. No cavities. No problems. He told me to come back after I have the baby so that he can do some X-rays just to be sure, but, otherwise, things looked good. And as I sit here typing this, Arliss is kicking away. All is well. I feel like I have accomplished a great triumph today, though who knows what will come along next that will have me shaking in my boots!