Doody-Ball Teeth Part 100

We all know I have bad teeth. (And here and here.) 

I sit in a room with a Hot Tamale, a tooth dies. Guess what happens when you're pregnant? Your mouth gives up and becomes a playground for gum disease and cavities. My question - what happens when your mouth was already the Six Flags of the bad-tooth world

Early dentures, that's what.

Today I head to the dentist to finish the root canal I began this summer (and which had to be postponed to the second trimester once I found out I was pregnant), as well as to receive the necessary 'pregnancy check-up' on the rest of my teeth. This would already be bad news on a good day, when I've been flossing for months, haven't touched a sweet thing in a week and drank mouthwash like water for 24 hours. 

But when one eats candy several . . . okay, many times a day (thank you, future baby - couldn't you crave cottage cheese? or dried apricots? or water?!), this is a recipe for disaster.

My appointment's at 11. I'm guessing I'll be out by next Tuesday. 

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