The periodontist did it...

(***disclaimer: this is lengthy and more so for journaling purposes...so you can skip over this post***)

 This last week I had an oral surgery.  I didn't really want to tell anyone, because it sounds so silly.  My sister had surgery the week before on her knee, and she was up walking on it (with crutches) the next day.   So, in comparison, mine sounded wussy. (is that even a word?)

Why did I have surgery?

get ready for the dorkiest reason ever....

I had "receding gum lines".

Instead of most people who worry about receding hairlines, etc...I have receding gum lines. At 27. Really?

My dentist has mentioned it the past couple of visits, but finally this last time, he said we've put it off long enough, and that I needed to see a specialist(periodontist).  I went in thinking they would just put a coating on it or something like my dentist said might happen, to help with the sensitivity.

I didn't prepare myself for the periodontist walking in, looking at my gums and saying, "Yeah, we need to schedule you for a surgery". I asked about the other options, but he explained why he didn't recommend that for my situation.

OK...totally fine with that. I've had surgery twice before so this should be a piece of cake.

I met with the financial specialist, and as she is calling my insurance I have a chance to look over the paperwork they've given me. 

That is when I started to freak out a little.  Like I've said before, I've had surgery before. But both of those times, I lived at home with my parents, and I didn't have any responsibilities.  Now, I have my own home, and a fully capable and WONDERFUL husband....and a child who is busy all.day.long.

I really had to pull myself together in the office so I didn't cause a scene right then and there.

But, then I was fine. 

I got over it.

Then flash forward to the day of surgery. 

I had my mom there to take care of Grace while Stephen went with me to the surgery.

I warned them when they walked in to give me anesthesia, but they STILL had to stick me 6 times in 4 different places.

They pretty much made a pocket in the roof of my mouth to get the gum tissue. Then they sewed that up and then proceeded to sew the gum tissue over two of my teeth.

When I got home, Grace was taking a nap, my mom and sister, Mary had made up pudding and all sorts of things that I could possibly eat.

The house was clean, dishes were done...a spot on the couch with my name on it.

My dear sweet husband gave me all my pain meds and took care of everything.

If you've met my husband, you know that his is more than capable to do all the caring for me and Grace all by himself. But, if you are a daughter, you also know that sometimes you just need your mom.

I was just overwhelmed by all the help and concern that was given.  I didn't expect for the recovery to be as painful and incapacitating as it was.  Due to risk of Grace knocking out the gum graft, I couldn't rock my baby to sleep, or really hold her for that matter.

Between Stephen and my mom, I had ice packs every 15 minutes. I had a clean house. I had a happy baby.  I had naps. I had nice soft food. I had movies. I had milkshakes. I had laughs. 

I had food brought to me by a sweet friend in the ward without even asking. She just showed up Sunday morning with Jello salad, bananas, soup and other things!

My sisters all called me and picked up Grace for play dates so I could rest.

Stephen would get home from work and clean up the mess, and make me dinner (or make dinner for him and Grace  and then serve me what I could eat! haha).

It really has made me appreciate the fact that I am surrounded by such good people in my life.

I am also happy to be the 'mommy' again. As nice as it is to have help, it was hard seeing everyone else doing 'my' job.

When Grace fell down, someone else scooped her up and comforted her. When Grace was tired, somebody else rocked her and held her close.

When Grace got a fever and a cough, someone else took her to the doctor.

Someone else gave her the medicine.

When Grace was hungry, someone else fixed her food and sat down at the table with her.

When Grace was bored, someone sat down and pulled out all the toys to play with her.

But, despite all that, my sweet little girl still would run over to the couch and reach up her arms and say, "Mama!" like she had missed me so much!

With the help of someone else, I was able to lay down beside my girl as she nuzzled into my good side and watched a show with me.

Those moments were cherished in the midst of 'not being the mommy'.

And now, I'm healing. My gums are getting better...the stitches aren't as tender...the bruising is fading...I'm off the medication...and most importantly, I'm getting back to being the MAMA for this little girl.