Anticipation

On the eve of Henry’s cochlear implant surgery, I feel a mixture of emotions. I feel excited and lucky that Henry is being given this opportunity to access sound, especially lucky that Henry gets to have two implants at once. In another time and another place, Henry may not have had such options. I feel eternal and overwhelming gratitude to Professor Graeme Clark and all those who were involved in developing the cochlear implant, who persevered against medication opposition, fought for funding and kept researching and developing and did not give up until they a developed a way to give deaf people a way to hear sound. I feel worry, worry that the surgery will proceed without complications, that nothing will go wrong. I feel hope, hope that the implants will work well- they can test them during the surgery and tell us how well the brain responded to the electrical impulses - It seems that every step of the way, things have been worse than expected, so I’m hoping this time we get a ‘good’ result.
Overlaying these ‘mature’ emotions is a childish feeling of ‘it’s not fair’. Our baby Henry who hasn’t yet even learnt to walk, who has no idea that he even has a ‘problem’; doesn‘t understand any of this and trusts us implicitly. Who will have to work so hard for something we all take for granted.
And yet, what do I look forward to? What is my hope? So much. And yet one little thing. For my baby Henry to hear me say “I love you”. And one day to hear Henry say that back.