Hair. Well, basically, she looks like Peter Boyle. This isn't anything medical-related. It's just worth acknowledging. S has the DNA of many a ginger, but, for now, the hair has yet to settle on a color.

Eyes. The drama begins. As I've mentioned elsewhere, we were forewarned that she would almost definitely have a non-functioning left eye and that the eye might even need to be removed. The left eye is completely exposed as each eyelid is only half-formed. The NICU doctor referred us to the pediatric ophthalmologist who referred us to the occuloplastic surgeon, which I didn't even know was a thing. Turns out they make the big bucks doing eye lifts for vain old ladies and dudes, but occasionally work on medical cases. The surgeon told us that he needed to perform a comprehensive eye exam in collaboration with her ophthalmologist under anesthesia and that they needed to suture her left eye shut to protect it from infection.

So, we did that, and spent the night with her at Dell Children’s, and it was pretty terrible, but we got through it. S kept it together better than either of us. All of the little-kiddo monitors were still too big for tiny, six-pound S and kept making a terrible racket even though nothing was wrong. I basically cry-begged the nurses to unhook one of the monitors so that someone in our little family might get some rest. They obliged, she continued to breathe and her heart continued to beat, we left the next day.

The outcome of all that business is that her right eye is undeniably and completely functional. Her left is about half the size it should be. A smidge of light gets in there, but there is no hope for vision. The good news is that it doesn't pose any sort of threat to her and there is no elevated risk of infection, so it doesn't need to be removed right now. Maybe in the future. Real talk, I'm not sure how she gets through middle school without a prosthesis (which are pretty amazing these days), but we'll deal with that in a decade or so.

Oh, also, that crazy poodle knocked out her sutures after a couple weeks. We went to the ER and basically paid them $150 (no political opinions!) to have them shrug and page her surgeon, who said she was fine. I complain, but obviously it was worth it. We went in the next week and he completely removed the sutures, we lubricate the eye every couple of hours, it remains open and looks all pink and healthy.

Next step: an appointment in September with the ophthalmologist to get S some baby glasses that will act as safety goggles to protect the good eye. You will all die from cuteness. We will only see the occuloplastic surgeon again in the near future if something goes wrong. The eye lids on each side will be repaired during each side's respective surgery. Her cranio-facial surgeon thinks that he'll be able to repair them himself, but will call in plastics if necessary.

I plan to try out at some point the eye patches that my mom made from instructions from Aunt E and her engineering compadres. If it works out, we might enlist her Aunt L and her incredible sewing skills and eye for patterns to design some more. I don't think S has to be ashamed of the eye, certainly no one in her family is. I anticipated weird looks from strangers, but except for a couple of asses in Starbucks one time, most people see her and coo at her like any other baby. But, I know that will change as she gets older. Adults and especially other kids will become increasingly curious and possibly unkind. I want S to have as many options available to her as possible. Hopefully, she mostly won't give a crap about what people do and will be completely fine with presenting her left eye in all its glory to the world. But some days, she might just not want to deal with it, and on those days, I'd like for her to be able to strap on a fabulous, comfortable alternative if she feels like it.

Her right eye is gigantic and blue, just like her Aunt E’s. It's expressive and curious and one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.