Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Far Sighted

Today, after a couple of months of noticing how Gracie seems to cross her eyes when looking at anything up close, like when she is eating or coloring, I took her in to see an ophthalmologist who immediately confirmed my suspicions...Grace is having trouble seeing things up close, and will need glasses to correct the problem and help her be able to read and see up close, and to ensure that she doesn't hurt her vision further by continuing to cross her eyes.


I'm not sure why this is bothering me so much. Every time I think of my three-year-old wearing glasses, tears come rushing to my eyes. Grace, for her part, found a very cute pair of pink glasses that she cannot WAIT to be able to wear once her lenses are delivered. She is calling them her "special glasses" and when she told her teacher at day care today that she was going to be getting glasses, she positively beamed with excitement. (It helped that her teacher energetically and very positively yelled, "Glasses?!? I have glasses!! This is so exciting!" I could have kissed her.)

Still, I can't help but sit here and cry, stupidly, thinking about it. Why am I so upset about this? I was thinking about it today as I watched a baby that was on a ventilator being wheeled into an elevator at the hospital where I work, and I thought to myself, "Get a freaking grip, Sara. It's glasses. Things could be so much worse."

I've been chatting online with Aaron about this and asked him that same question:

Sara says:
why am i so upset about this?
Aaron says:
because you feel like it is your fault
Aaron says:
that you let your child down somehow
Aaron says:
and you can't make it better for her

Ah usual, the man has more insight into my psyche than I do. It's great to be married to someone who understands.

I think part of it, too, is the fact that I was teased incessantly by peers when I got my classes in second grade. I don't want Grace to have to endure being called "four eyes" or a "dork", although there are much worse things to be called. And, at least she didn't inherit my red hair, so she won't have to be called "carrot top" for her entire childhood.

But, this isn't about me and I am angry at myself that I am upset. Grace is acting wonderfully about this...maybe it's time for me to model some of her behavior.