I am feeling a little nostalgic tonight, so I took a look back at the blog and some of the very early posts.
I wish I had started the blog right when Erin was born so I could have chronicled those early weeks, before her misleading ABR at two months old. (The test that led us to believe she was not, in fact, deaf)
Those weeks were so rough. I felt like this diagnosis was some sort of incredible tragedy in our lives. One we would never overcome.
I remember worrying about the fact that she would never hear. That she would never hear music. Wind in the trees. Birds calling. The dog bark. Or the sound of a friend whispering a secret in her ear.
But mostly, that she would never hear us tell her that we love her.
Oh, how I cried over that thought. As though she wouldn’t know the love we felt for her if she couldn’t hear us tell her.
Ironically enough, TNT was showing ER re-runs at that time with the story line about Dr. Benton first realizing that his son was deaf. Being home on maternity leave, I made sure to watch every episode. Even though I had watched those episodes countless times before, they took on an entirely new meaning.
I watched like I would find answers. Something that would tell me Toes wasn’t deaf. That it was a silly misunderstanding. Fluid in her ears. Maybe there was a simple physical issue that a minor surgery could correct. Fluid in her ears. Fluid in her ears.
You wouldn't believe the Google searches I did in front of the TV during those weeks!!
Looking back on that time, I almost laugh. Even without the implant… this is not a tragedy. Toes is deaf. Yeah? So what. It’s still Toes. It is who she is.
And we wouldn’t change a thing.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Erin is doing really well. Her speech therapist was very impressed with how far she has come since her last appointment. Particularly in her listening ability. She reacts to pretty much every sound that warrants a reaction. She is following simple commands and seems totally "normal" as far as hearing is concerned. Once again, she is our little rock star!
Tonight when I was reading her story, she pulled off her coil and seemed to actually realize for the first time that she couldn't hear without it on. She started trying to stick it to her forehead and pointed at her processor. I let her inspect the coil and processor on her own. I have done this before but, generally she just sticks the coil in her mouth, turning it into the world's most expensive binky.
This time, she studied it very carefully and even attempted to press the buttons on the controller. It seems she is starting to see the equipment as more than just another part of her wardrobe.
We continue to be so amazed by every step of this process! And oh, so proud of our little girl!