Rainy days always seem to be my grocery shopping days. Standing in the grocery isle looking at the peanut butter, trying to remember which brand was the last to have the salmonella outbreak, an older woman stops to go on and on about how cute Shiloh is. "Yes, he is so cute, yes he is a flirt, yes he has a gorgeous smile"....then the awkward pause while she tries to make funny noises in exchange for him to respond with a laugh, instead he just looks away. She makes the noises that much louder...and he ignores her. Suddenly, she's no longer friendly. Suddenly, Shiloh's not as cute to her. Suddenly, she gives a quiet "oh dear" confused smiling nod as she walks away. Ugh, rainy days somehow always have me at the grocery store with Shiloh, without his hearing aids.
And then there are the times when he does have his hearing aids in, and in that same isle someone stops to make me feel proud of this perfect little boy. And mid-strange/funny noise they get that look. That look is absolutely unmistakable, absolutely. And I see the path of thoughts race clearly across their face.
....are those hearing aids...those are hearing aids...do babies wear hearing aids...wow, he's not responded to anything I've said...oh, my...he's deaf....how sad...
And then, they give a quiet, 'oh dear', confused, smile and slink away.
Yet, there are those times, when a parent is observant, bold and curious and asks if those are hearing aids he is wearing. Yes, they are.... and I wait for their reaction...and sometimes I'm lucky enough for that parent to say Oh...I know a child that got a cochlear implant. And then the conversation ensues...lots of questions, lots of answers, a few laughs, and no quiet, "oh dear", confusing, smiling nods. And those are the days I feel comfort and relief from being able to share a little of Shiloh's story.
Our life is so different from 3 years ago, and yet it seems so normal. Of course, I am reminded of those differences when Shiloh wakes in the middle of the night crying uncontrollably and I am unable to comfort him with my voice. But then those are the times that I get the tightest sweetest hugs, when he wants nothing more than to be closer to me than his own skin. I am so lucky. And there are those times I'm on the phone all day with doctors offices rearranging schedules, ensuring we're on track, verifying insurance and I realize, 'Wow, and he's only deaf.' I am so lucky. Yet, still there are moments when I catch a glimpse of another baby Shiloh's age react to their name being called, and I blink back a couple tears and save that pain for when I'm alone with Michael.
And as Shiloh's cochlear implant surgery date approaches (November 2nd) I remember that as differently normal these days are, there are underlying fears that are strangling my heart to a very slow labored beat. Sigh. I'm sure my heart will resume it's normal rhythym soon after that first week in November. And my underlying fears will return to what kind of woman will he bring home, where will he go to college, what will he want to do with his life? And hopefully the "Oh....he's deaf"....will turn into more of the "Wow! And he's totally deaf?"
2 comments:
I had people tell me in response to my son being deaf, "well, he's cute anyway." Ya damn right he's cute, lol !!!
I know the exact look. But wait until the day that someone says to you, "WOW, you're little one sure can speak well" then you SHOW them his CIs and TELL them he's deaf. Then watch their face. I haven't experienced this yet, but I sure can't wait! : ) and BTW, the surgery was the hardest part for me, but once it was over, it seemed like a weight was lifted from my chest - one I didn't even realize was there. He's such a cutie pie!
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