Last week marked yet another anniversary for Austin. While his
tracheostomy and feeding tube are to be celebrated for saving his life, his hearing aid is celebrated for opening him up to a whole new world. A world of sound.
Austin passed the
newborn hearing test, sort of. At the age of 3 months he was tested with an ABR, and it was determined he could hear only loud environmental sounds like a barking dog, a piano or a vacuum, but only if he were close enough to the item in question. Clarity is a whole other issue.
I know he seemed to respond to me talking to him, but maybe he just liked to watch my face move randomly. Hard to know for sure.
Despite his obvious hearing loss, due to
Microtia and Aural Atresia I always spoke to him in normal speech tones, read to him and played music for him. I treated him as a typical hearing child, not because I was in denial, but because it is important for him to see my lips moving and to have that social interaction with me.
On March 17, 2008 his entire world changed.
After much wrangling and insurance hullaballoo, the day came. On Saint Patrick's Day I took my
little leprechaun to Dallas' Callier Center for Communication Disorders to be fitted with his first hearing aid.
When we placed the hearing aid on his head and I spoke to him him, he smiled a genuine "I-can-hear-you-and-I-love-it" smile. It was a smile I will never forget. What I did happen to forget is the words I spoke. I'm pretty sure I just said, "Auuustin, Hi Baby!" or something like that. Close enough. So yup, that's what I said.
When I look at this picture I can see that recalling the exact words isn't nearly as important as that reaction. While I know I should have been ecstatic, to be honest it was a bittersweet moment. Suddenly I realized how much he really had missed.
Austin was four and a half months old when he heard my voice for the first time. Four and a half months, that's 135 days of silence. It was really heartbreaking to think about all those moments we lost.
I am pretty sure that is something so many parents take for granted, I did.
Article after
article tells you that your child heard you speak before he/she was ever born. That didn't happen for me. I was one of those people who played music to my belly. Perhaps the vibrations were enough, but he never heard my voice. For 135 days he lived in his own little world of silence.
Would it have been different if I had had known before he was born?
Would I have done things differently?
I am positive these questions flash through the minds or roll of the tongues of many
new parents who have just learned their child was born different. And there is no right or wrong answer. I know I personally live with a whole lot of "maybes".
But that day, in that moment, I felt badly when I realized that we had lost so much time. So much learning for infants happens by listening,
what if he never catches up? was a major concern.
Now two years later, he is in the other room marching in a circle, singing along to "Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho". This is his life and his world, be it
hearing, deaf or somewhere in between. No doctor, no label, nor testing is going to
limit him or define what he is capable of.
My days of worrying about Austin are far from over, but I have come to place of acceptance about his hearing loss. I accept that it will be a life long struggle. I accept that it will often be misunderstood. I accept that it is not the end of the world. I accept that I am doing the best I can. I know this for certain because I myself live with a severe bilateral hearing loss. {I can hear jaws dropping, but that is another story for another day.}
Thanks for peeking,
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Health, Kids & Parenting. Gracias!!