August 23, 2007. Our son was born the day before, and we were starting to realize that his eyes were different. They were cloudy. They just didn't look right.
I can't remember who brought it up first. It must have happened in one of those small, whispered conversations that occur between a married couple. "What do you think of his eyes? Have you noticed his eyes?"
"Yes, they look different."
Something was different about the boy's eyes. He was perfect in every way - 9 pounds, 10 ounces, big head, and light colored hair. But he kept his eyes closed, and when they finally did open, they were cloudy. They saw nothing.
We were in St. Peter's Hospital on the maternity floor. One of the nurses came in to check on us while we were hanging in the hospital room. We asked her to take a look at the boy's eyes and check if anything looked funny. She held my son, looked at his eyes, and reported that the grey, cloudy blobs were simply his eye color. Nothing to worry about.
Case closed, right? Nope.
You know when you have a gut feeling? Something that just tears at you and grabs you and won't let go? This was one of those feelings. My wife and I were not satisfied with the nurse's assessment of my son's eyes.
We couldn't let it go.