At 10:07 tonight I will have been a mother for exactly 12 years. I thought I was prepared. Glenn and I had been married for about a year and a half. We were both in our thirties. We planned for the pregnancy and had all the gear "necessary" for having a baby. I had a huge baby shower and got everything from a glider rocker to a moist wipes warmer and everything in between. When Robert made his debut into this world I was overwhelmed with love and fear.I knew his cry as soon as he was born, and knew the nurses were bringing him to me when I could hear him crying down the hall. I knew. The hospital was full of babies that week, but I knew his cry over all others. Holding him in my arms as he slept filled me with pride I had never felt before. The fear came on day three. The day we had to take him home. That's when I realized I wasn't prepared. Not at all. I had never spent any length of time with a newborn. What was I going to do with this new little person? What if I dropped him? What if I forgot him in the car? What if the house caught on fire? What if, what if, what if... Fortunately for me, Robert was an incredibly calm baby, which calmed me. He rarely cried. When he did cry he usually had a reason. He was either hungry or tired. Within the first couple weeks I was able to decipher what each of his cries meant and was becoming more and more confident in my mothering skills.

Week six I was once again gripped with fear. A fear that had me sitting in a dark room, clutching my baby and crying for hours. I noticed one of his pupils was bigger than the other. It was a big difference and I was convinced it was the symptom of a brain injury or eye injury. The night I discovered the pupil anomaly was the longest night of my life up to that point. I called the pediatrician as soon as their office opened in the morning. The earliest appointment was much later in the day. Anguish. Glenn was flying and called home every time he had a layover. He wanted to come home, but I convinced him to keep working. I would let him know if I needed him to come home. The pediatrician wasn't concerned. Wouldn't even give me a referral. I got one of those "over-protective mother" looks. That didn't sit well with me. I knew that pupils should be more uniform. Fortunately, we had great health insurance at the time and I didn't need a referral to see an ophthalmologist. As soon as I got home from the pediatrician I started calling ophthalmologists. That's how I found Dr. Hodges in Frederick. He made room in his schedule to see me the very next day. Glenn was home for that appointment, and it was great to have someone to lean on. Dr. Hodges was wonderful. He did a complete eye exam on Robert, while he was asleep, I might add, and diagnosed him with anisocoria. Which simply means one pupil is larger than the other. He admitted that Robert's was fairly significant and would probably remain so forever. He told me to mention it if Robert ever received a blow to the head because it could cause alarm to an EMT or emergency room doctor. Other than that, there is no treatment and it's not damaging in any way. What a relief. I'm sure the pediatrician has seen many, many cases of anisocoria and since it wasn't accompanied by any other symptoms knew it was harmless. Unfortunately he didn't think it was necessary to explain it to me as thoroughly as Dr. Hodges did. I became a big fan of Dr. Hodges that day and have used him as my ophthalmologist ever since. If you're in the Frederick area and you need a ophthalmologist for yourself or your child, please give him a call. Tell him Robert's mom sent you.

Since then Robert has remained very healthy. He's had his share of colds, and he once had the rotovirus. That was gross. He and Glenn fell down concrete steps once and he hit his head on the sidewalk. Other than a faint scar on his forehead you wouldn't know it. He has broken his wrist slipping in our driveway on an icy morning. Just your usual, run of the mill childhood bumps and bruises.

He had his first day of pre-school, his first day of kindergarten, first day of middle school and will be having his first day of 7th grade next Monday. He is a great big brother to Reid and Sean, and both love him dearly. He's a deep thinker and a worrier. He likes rules, and expects everyone to follow them. He thinks life should be fair and is often shaken to his core when he sees evidence that it isn't. His teachers love him and his peers are perplexed by him. He doesn't make friends easily, but is very loyal to those he has. He doesn't love sports, but know it pleases Glenn and me when he plays, so he does. He takes great pride in his accomplishments and deep pain in his failures. He makes me proud. I never realized how deeply I could love another person until that little person came into my life. When he's joyful, I'm joyful, when his heart breaks, mine breaks as well. I want to shield him from this world for as long as I can because I know that to mature into a full fledged adult you have to have pain and sorrow. I don't want those for my sweet Robert. I want to magically go back in time when all I needed to do to calm him as sit in that glider rocker, hold him tight and sing him a song. He's in that funny time between child and teenager. He still likes to be tucked in but no longer sleeps with stuffed animals. He will still give me a hug and kiss goodbye in the morning as long as it's before the bus comes into view. He likes to stay home by himself as longs as it's not too long. I know the day is coming when he will feel like he doesn't need me anymore. I also know the day is coming when he will realize he does need me. I'll always be here, and so will my glider rocker.