How Melissa Got Her Bite Back

Brace Yourself:
Photo top: me at 11- heavy metals
Photo middle: at 14- round 2- trying to hide those metal buds behind my smile. Strangely, I don't have a lot of open smiles during this photo period. It was a self-conscious time...
Photo bottom: metaled out mama

I was a cute enough kid, but by around the time I was eight or nine, something funky started happening to my teeth. My grandma said that when I smiled she would find it hard to smile back because my teeth were so crooked it was a little bit disturbing. And some thing strange happened to my bite- my chin sunk back, I couldn't chew without stretching out my face, and my teeth didn't fit together anymore. So, from about the time I was nineish until the time I was eighteen I went through a plethora of orthodontia- braces, brackets, elastics, retainers, headgear, bridges even this really painfully huge hunk of plastic that prevented me from speaking and made me look like the Incredible Hulk. I remember my poor little jaw being so sore- and to no avail! While my teeth got straightened up-- thankfully, so my grandma could smile at me without worrying about my future-- my poor little bite just couldn't get it together. After having braces reapplied for the third (or was it fourth?) time when I was seventeen I said 'enough is enough' and I quit my orthodontist. I never knew you could quit an orthodontist, but I did it. Follow-up care with more seasoned orthodontists gave a dire recommendation: surgery. Jaw surgery. Aargh! Jaw surgery- hadn't I paid my dues? What?! Why?! I decided that maybe if I left it alone it would fix itself. See no evil, hear no evil? I spent several years without seeing an orthodontist, a dentist, or anybody with a reclining chair for that matter.
When Ian and I finally got finished with school and started to be able to go to the dentist again one of the first things I heard was: "you need braces." Also: "You should see an orthodontist." We switched dentists. The next guy said the same thing-totally unsolicited. So, I went. I went to the orthodontist, and lo and behold, it was like an echo from Canada thirteen years earlier: surgery. Shucks. Well, I guess you can run, but you can't hide. Over the next two years I almost got braces put on but I kept chickening out and cancelling my appointments. Braces... braces.... braces are so lame! Finally I took a very deep breath, squinched my eyes together. When I opened them I was a twenty-nine year old braces wearer. My other Grandma started laughing when she saw me in May: "didn't you spend your childhood in braces?' Aargh, yes. Yes Grandma, I did. And, it appears, part of my adulthood.... it's hilarious, I know.
Well, yesterday was a sort of monumentous occasion. After nine months of patient braces-wearing, I had The Surgery. Ohmygoodness, Melissa got her bite back. It was hiding out there for twenty odd years... and now it looks and feels amazing. Just to clarify, I don't look and feel amazing, I'm about as swollen as a blowfish, but my bite feels great. I'm hoping for a speedy recovery. I may not be able to talk on the phone for a few weeks, talking is a little tough (my jaw is elasticized completely shut) and hopefullly this swelling goes down a lot, but I am very grateful for all the people who helped make it possible- mom and dad, Ian for taking amazing care of me, and my orthodontist and maxofacial surgeon. You guys rock. The journey's not over yet, but we're getting there and hopefully, before I'm thirty-one, I'll say good bye to braces forever. I may have to do the retainer thing for awhile, but that's OK. Orthodontia has been such a big part of my past, I guess if it sticks around a little in my future that won't be so bad.
;)