By the time I go under the knife, I will have had braces for nine months. At first, the braces were exciting—they were the first step toward having the surgery. But the excitement quickly wore off as I experienced raw spots, canker sores and loose brackets (the braces-equivalent of morning sickness). I have monthly orthodontic checkups, which result in thicker wires and sore teeth.
Now that I'm in the “last tri,” I CANNOT wait until this is over and done with and I have my new baby—a set of jaws that line up the way they're supposed to. I know the recovery will be less-than-fabulous; I'll be sucking liquid out of a syringe for a week, and after that I'll be limited to soft foods like yogurt and ice cream.
I'm experiencing my own kind of nesting. I want to have the middle floor completely painted and put back together before the Big Day. I whipped up a pair of car organizers that hang over the front seats on a whim yesterday. I've started stocking up on apple juice and Ensure. There are half a dozen meals in the freezer for after we return from Utah.
I'm getting ready to pack my hospital bag, too. This bag will be slightly different than the bags I've packed for Grover babies #1 and #2, though. I'll be taking a travel pillow so I can sleep upright, a Magna Doodle so I can communicate, and Breathe Right strips so I can respire since my mouth will be stuffed with gauze and a splint.
Fun stuff.
Don't worry about missing out on anything. We'll be taking the trusty Nikon so as to record this momentous occasion. I'm sure my swollen face and bruised neck won't be as cute as a newborn, but that's all we'll have to offer this time around.