A look back on my journey

Henry’s journey has been fantastic.  He has gone from being profoundly deaf, locked in his own world, unable to communicate and participate fully in our life, to a very happy, outgoing and confident little boy.  He can hear the word “biscuit” whispered in the other room, and will throw a huge tantrum, demanding his “mama” or “dada” listen to his needs.  This ends in two ways, a biscuit and a “thank you” from our little boy.  Or a distraction by us with the promise of something equally good- a book, bike ride or one of his cars (all of which he will eagerly say “yes” to, nodding his head up and down and understanding completely what we are offering).  What wonderful progress he has made.

But, how has my journey tracked?  I was a reluctant participant in all of this.  You know the quote “I took the road less travelled”.  That wasn’t my choice.  I wanted the road most travelled.  I wanted a normal, healthy baby.  I didn’t want a baby who was profoundly deaf.  Sure, I am ‘technical’, I studied engineering at university.  But I didn’t want to learn about audiology.  I was quite happy to never know the difference between conductive hearing loss and  sensorineural hearing loss.   Yes, I enjoy studying, but do I have to learn Auditory Verbal Therapy? 

I have been put on a path that I wasn’t prepared for.  That I didn’t choose.  But you know what?  I am a mother, I am Henry’s mother and that means embracing every aspect of that.  I am privileged to be the mother of two gorgeous children, and I love all that comes with it.  Parts of the journey have been hard.  Holding Henry in my arms as they knocked him out to commence a seven hour surgery to implant his cochlear implants- what an enormous responsibility; as he looked up at me with his trusting eyes, me worrying if we were doing the right thing, but sure that we had made the best decision we could.  I feel so special to be part of Henry’s journey.  It has been Henry’s journey towards hearing and talking, but it has also been my journey.  I have learnt so much- the technical stuff is easy, I can learn that in a night.  But the important stuff, you have to experience it, to live through it.  I have developed a greater understanding of love, acceptance, family, empathy and resilience.  Not just through my own journey, but through other people I have been lucky enough to meet and talk to on the way.

And you know what, I feel proud of how I got through this.  And I really do feel we are ‘through it’.  Henry may not have ‘normal’ speech and language yet, but I have no doubt that he is well on the way. I have no concerns whatsoever about his language development now.  Sure there will be things to sort through in the future, but just as part of normal everyday life.

My gorgeous Henry

I am constantly reminded that every day parents are faced with the discovery that their child has hearing loss.  And it’s a traumatic and troubling time, it definitely is.  Filled with uncertainty and unknowing.  But if I can offer any comfort, it is this:  I have kept my blog for ten months now, on our journey towards getting Henry access to sound and hoping that he would one day speak.  Although the odds are good, you never know... And so I recorded our journey, the ups and downs, the exciting moments, the difficulties.  But less than one year on, I find I have little to write about.  And I am starting to feel, it’s no big deal.  And I know it is, of course.  No parent wants to see their child faced with the obstacles a hearing-impaired child will face.  And of course, there is and always will be, difficult times.  But to parents who have recently been re-routed to my path, the one where you have one calendar just filled with audiology, therapy and doctors appointments, take heart.  If it’s only hearing loss (and I do know that for so many, it is so much more), it’s one year of intensity, and then you will just get on with your lives.  On a slightly different landscape.  But it’s do-able.

For myself, I find that I have been given a new filter to life.  I can focus much more clearly on what is important and what is peripheral.  People.  Things.  Experiences.  Life.  Would I choose this path?  No, I wouldn’t choose to have a deaf child.  But you know what, I am enjoying the journey.  It’s different.  It’s not what I planned.  But it’s rewarding.  It’s special and filled with love.  And we are happy.