Imperfection

From the moment my babies have been born, I have reveled in their perfectness. We had a big scare when Sadie was en utero, and were told that her odds of having Downs Syndrome were greater than the norm for my age. While we knew in our hearts that we would love and cherish her in any shape or form, we did wait with baited breath for her arrival.

The moment she let out a hearty cry and we counted fingers and toes and proudly received her perfect Apgar scores (as if we had coached her to them like it was the SAT or something), we declared to ourselves (and anyone who recieved the news of her birth) that we had a perfect baby girl. We were equally blessed with the arrival of a second perfect baby girl in Eden.

That's not to say that I have 'perfect children' (anyone who could have heard the ninety minute ordeal in getting Eden to sleep last night would agree, I'm sure). But, every well-check and every playdate has been an opportunity to assure myself that my kids are right on track, physically and emotionally. And, as much as I would love them any other way, I can admit that I get joy in this.

So, with that as background, I guess it isn't surprising that I felt a stab of--sadness? dissappointment? Not quite sure what to label it yet, as I'm still processing it, I guess--at Sadie's well-check this morning. I watched her take the eye exam, and saw her struggle to make out the figures and letters that were plain as day to me. It seems that the first (of the many that will emerge over her lifetime, of course) of her physical imperfections has reared. She "scored" (not sure if that is the right word, but you get what I mean) 20/50 -- a fairly significant vision impairment for such a young kid. In the 90 seconds it took for her to struggle through the exam, I felt a whole host of questions rush through my mind...should I have pushed her to eat more carrots? Will she be teased by the other kids for wearing glasses? Could poor vision be a sign of a more serious condition?

I know in the scheme of things, this is not bad news. Truly, I am so thankful every single day for my healthy kids, and given that Evan and I both wear glasses, I guess I figured it was an inevitable fate for the girls. But, I would be lying if I wrote that it wasn't a bit dissapointing or saddening.

Anyway, I need to make an appointment with the opthamologist, and I guess we'll take it from there.