Isn’t it strange how parents will share intimate details
about their children with complete strangers at a playground simply because you
are standing next to each other pushing a swing. Even stranger yet, the advice that we take
from them, whom we know nothing about nor they about us When my son, Wyatt was 2 ½, and still not
talking, I can remember a parent telling me that I should just try talking to
him. She had no idea that I was all
talked out. I talked and talked, and
sang, and rhymed, and danced. He ignored
me. I tried to entice him with the Itsy
Bitsy Spider, to no avail. He had no
interest. I looked up every verse, and
memorized, “Frog Went a Courtin” just to make sure I had something to sing to
him in the bathtub. I still know the
entire song by heart. I just didn’t know
that he was deaf.
When he wouldn’t babble, the pediatrician told me not to worry
yet. My mother-in-law claimed that he
babbled all day at her house. When he
didn’t respond to my voice, the occupational therapist said that he heard me,
but, he had a sensory disorder and didn’t know how to respond. When I screeched out a few notes on the
violin, or vacuumed the house, we bragged about what a great sleeper he
was. A wise friend at work told me that
I should keep on explaining everything to him.
He really was listening to me.
Then there were at least a dozen stories about a child, usually a boy,
who never said a word, and started speaking in full sentences when he turned
3. Oh yeah, there was even a center for
speech and hearing where I was told that hearing probably wasn’t an issue. The
first audiologist I took him to told me he probably had some minor hearing loss,
but not anything significant.
He can’t hear anything.
He is completely deaf. It is
genetic and I have reason to believe that he was probably born like that.
Wouldn’t it have been nice to hear from a parent of a child
that is deaf?
Yes, it would have.
He is now 8, making progress, and trying to catch up from 3 years of
missed language and many of life’s lessons that come with it. When I try to
explain to parent’s of typical hearing children some of the problems I
encounter as a parent, I still tend to get a lot of bad advice, from well-meaning
people, who really just have no experience, knowledge, or understanding of what
I go through on a day to day basis trying to teach my child the things that
they take for granted in teaching their children.
I have always had a circle of women friends. Sorry dads, I know you are out there too, but
probably just not reading this article.
As an adult I have found that I have my work friends, my neighborhood
friends, my social friends, and my family friends. I have also taken on another group of friends
who are very near and dear to my heart.
My Hands & Voices friends are a blessing and sometimes the only
people who understand me as a parent.
There are also those immediate connections with strangers of DHH
children. At the water park, the zoo,
the rest stop on the highway, when you see a child signing or maybe wearing
cochlear implants. There is an immediate
connection and understanding of one another.
I feel as if I have been chosen to part of a very elite group of
parents. I am so glad to have finally
found my way here. Thank you Hands
& Voices. I love this community, the
people I work with, and each and every parent that shares their story with me
asks me to share mine. I like the common
themes and threads, as well as the unique challenges that we face.
Beth
