He has what!?

You spend 9 months worried and thinking about the gazillions of things that could happen to your unborn child.  Then he arrives, happy and healthy, and you are immediately consumed with the gazillions of things that could happen to him now that he's on the outside.  Not once did infant cateracts cross my mind as one of these potential hazards to my perfect new little human. 
Jack hit all of his milestones, even some early.  He smiled, watched you, grabbed for things, lifted his head up, and pooped like a champ.  Everything was going smoothly and David and I were nothing but elated by this amazing creature we had created. On September 7th, 2010, the three of us piled into the car for the routine 2 month appointment.  We didn't even think too much about it when the pediatrician mentioned that she couldn't find a red eye reflex in his left eye and would like us to see a pediatric opthamologist as soon as possible.  It wasn't a big deal as we had come to learn that the pediatricians liked to send us to any and all specialty medical doctors. 
We scheduled the appointment for the next month, but the pediatrician called on behalf of us and got us in the next day.  We started to question the severity because of her insistence.  I had a nervous feeling the entire day before the appointment.  We went through the appointment - Jack had his eyes dilated, we waited for awhile, and then BAM.  The news.  Jack has congential cateracts in both eyes.  Ok, I'm thinking.  Not the end of the world, probably like Lasik, right?  We'll schedule it for next month, after our trip to Florida.  The pediatric opthamologist, sensing my naivete, politely said, "You're not going on vacation."  Starting to sense more and more what a big deal this was, I called David hysterically crying from the lobby.  There was no way I could drive home.  My baby wasn't even 3 months old, and he would be going in for surgery.  I vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the conversation with the doctor...surgery, anasthesia, glasses, contacts.  When David arrived, we went back in together and made a little more sense of the situation.  He would need surgery immediately.  He would wear glasses or contacts until he was old enough to get the permanent lens.  3 out of 10,000 children suffer from this, and there's usually a cause.  BAM #2.  We had to go to a geneticist the next day to rule out the possibility that Jack was suffering from a much more serious syndrome.  That was the worst day of our lives, waiting to hear the news, and when the geneticist almost laughed that everything else about him was so normal, the two of us had such a collective sigh of relief that the hats of everyone in the building blew away. 
Next step: Pre-op appointments