[i]’His focus is worse than his brothers’.[/i]

Words I desperately didn’t want to hear. 

They caught me off guard a bit, I went through shock and onto disbelief before the next sentence was even over. The optometrist was polite, but brutally matter of fact (but then I wouldn’t want the news any other way. Just the facts please). By the time he’d finished speaking I was already onto acceptance.

I was relieved to hear the words [i]’minimal astigmatism, nothing that will change his prescription much, nothing to worry about’.[/i]

But a devastated feeling was welling up somewhere like an evil monster in the shadows. It was like the [url=https://www.polaroidblipfoto.com/entry/3995347]day his brother got glasses[/url] all over again, that small undermining feeling that somehow I’ve let my boys down. 

But as quickly as it had come, the worst of the feeling was gone again. It’s somehow easier to deal with 2nd time round. It’s not my fault. I can feel sorry for the wee guy, but I can’t change it. Glasses won’t define his life, after all they certainly haven’t defined mine.

The glasses look huge on his tiny face; all I could think about as we tried them on was how sad I was that we’ll be hiding that beautiful cheeky smile of things behind such monstrous glasses.

He’s so young, it feels almost surreal knowing that today’s news will stay with him for his life, or until some medical miracle comes along. All day my concentration on work kept being broken by a sudden thought about my wee man having glasses.

Deep down, I’m glad we know. I’m glad we took him in so young. I’m glad that we can keep an eye on them and that we have caught it so early that the risk of any further complications developing is minimal. 

But he’s only 10 months old for goodness sake. 

I don’t even know how we are ever going to get him to wear glasses…