No, The Dentist Doesn't Have Anything to Do With Infertility

I had a teeth cleaning today, and I was really dreading it because of the infertility thing. You'd think, very logically, that dentistry and infertility should have nothing to do with each other. But my dentist's office has this very fancy electronic charting system, and that system wants to know everything about your medical history that there is to know. It's quite cool actually: the screen has a high tech picture of a dental chair, and the person inputting data can click around on different parts of the screen to put in different information (the little x-ray machine for x-rays, the tray of cleaning tools for cleaning). I sort of feel like it's my opportunity at Second Life without actually learning to play that game, like I should get to choose a cool Indie rockin' avatar with clean teeth and healthy gums and all that.


So the last time I was at the dentist, the hygienist filled out this crazy medical history. She asked me a bunch of questions, including whether I was taking any vitamins. I could have told her, as my husband logically did when he was asked, "nothing that should affect having my teeth cleaned." Because really, what do prenatal vitamins have to do with tartar and plaque?


But I wasn't thinking about that, so I told her I was taking prenatal vitamins. She seemed to think that was an invitation to ask me how long I'd been trying, what I'd been doing to overcome it--pretty much anything she wanted to ask in between picking at the tartar and suctioning out the saliva. I am chatty and somewhat nosy but I had nothing on this lady. She also told me everything about herself, including how easy it was for her to get pregnant. Then she rubbed her arm all over mine and said, "I want to rub some of it off on you so you'll get pregnant too." I hope she doesn't think it really works like that because she and her husband could be in for a real surprise.

At first, I sort of went along with it. But the longer it went on, the nosier she got. Also, the door was open, and it's a small office, so the office staff and Lord knows who else--all the little old ladies in there with periodontal disease--were hearing this conversation. And I didn't really have much to say, because after all, I was there to get my teeth cleaned. Besides the fact that I had a bib on and was drooling on myself, I'm pretty much used to talking about the weather and where I'm going on vacation and my dog's name. But she was perfectly content going on and on about her opinions about the experience of infertility (about which she knew nothing), and the experience of pregnancy (about which I knew nothing, and didn't want to hear from someone I didn't know).


Anyway, I really didn't want this hygienist again. It's been six months and I'm still not pregnant, and I was afraid maybe she'd go for lifting a leg and rubbing that on me this time. Luckily, it was someone else. But unfortunately, the appointment was supposed to start with x-rays, which they hadn't told me before. And I wasn't sure I should have x-rays, given the upcoming treatments this month. So I told the tech that, and then she thought it meant I wanted to talk about it. I guess she didn't understand that I only volunteered the infertility treatment thing because of the x-rays, not because I wanted us to be new BFFs.


At least my teeth are basically clean. And I don't have to go back for six months. But I swear, if I don't get pregnant before that, I'm changing dentists.