Audism?

It took me so long to write to all of you about my son's hearing loss, but now that I've opened that gate, this space has become an outlet for me. I can organize my thoughts here and write through my concerns. And those are plenty, let me tell you. Most of you reading this right now are hearing adults, like myself. It's likely that the extent of your knowledge of hearing loss is confined to old age or your cousin's best friend's sister's daughter who wears hearing aids. My point is that I just didn't know much about the deaf, Deaf, or oral deaf communities until now. Did I lose you? I meant to a little. There's so much I didn't know and so much I'm still learning, but I thought I'd bring you along in what I'm learning, too. I'm in the middle of writing a new normal into our lives and I'm trying to figure out exactly what that is.

Before Baby A's diagnosis, I knew nothing of the controversy that exists in the deaf and hard-of-hearing community. I had heard of cochlear implants, but I really wasn't sure what they did in comparison to a hearing aid. It's quite different (google it). What I'm finding now is that there are passionate, opposing opinions on how to deal with children who cannot hear. With the technological miracle of the cochlear implant (CI), came much praise for the devices that could make deaf individuals hear! At the same time, a whole community of non-hearing folks were cringing. What would happen to their culture? Would sign language be a dying art? Honestly, it was something I had never thought of. The only reason it came to my attention was because I was searching online for information for my Baby A and I came across a picture that confused me. It read "Stop Audism" in a poster board like quality. Immediately, I searched my brain for a definition of audism. Couldn't find it. I used google instead ;) Audism is the notion that one is superior based on one's ability to hear. Whoa. It felt like I was wading into a swift current of waters I knew nothing about. I was about to be carried off to who knows where. I thought about it for a few minutes and then shut down the computer because I felt overwhelmed. I tried not to think about it and I was successful for awhile until his next appointment with a new audiologist who asked me point blank- "What are your goals for him? Have you thought about if you want him to hear?"

Initially, I told doctors and whoever else asked that my goal for him was to function normally among his peers. I know people shy away from that word "normal"but what I mean is that I want him to communicate as we do because that's what I know. That probably is a selfish view, but at the same time it is the hearing culture that I'm used to. To extend that, though, I see the value in learning to use sign. I've always thought it was something we should be teaching all along. It certainly helped my first born before he was able to talk. I knew that I wanted my second born to expand himself and learn ASL, too. As I say that, it's my hope that he won't ever need it because I want CI for him so badly, but rather that he will use it to, in some way, identify with this culture that I might never be a part of or help others who started off much like he has. Who knows what God has in store?

I'm so anxious to move forward in all of this. I know you all know that. It has been my desire from the beginning to make these doctors work faster, to fight for my son. I know he's young and has the ability to overcome this obstacle, but time is so precious in language development and learning. Viewing research on the matter is sobering. As we wait on this and that, I can't help but look toward the future and think about what approach to therapy we will take. Should we stop using sign and try to teach him to rely on the sound he does hear? Is that even an option with his level of hearing loss? What happens if he isn't a CI candidate? Am I capable of quickly learning and teaching sign language? What if? What if? What if?

It can be overwhelming, but there are so many stories out there that are making me smile, too. Someone shared this on my facebook page today and it gave me so much hope:

"Today I attended my brother-in-law's high school graduation and was moved to tears by the valedictorian's speech. This made me think of you: he was born deaf and his condition wasn't detected until he was 4 years old. Against all odds and many negative opinions of "experts" who said he would never be successful in school and may never learn to even speak, he graduated with a 4.69 GPA and delivered one of the best valedictorian addresses I have ever heard. God is so good and I know He has great things in store for Abel too!"

I am confident that God is working for the good of us because we love him. I'm happy and anxious to help my boy in any way I can. Thank you for your prayers during all of this. I feel them.