There is a low-tone hearing loss that runs through my dad's side of the family. Four out of the five siblings have some sort of hearing loss and he has worn hearing aids since college. My brother, Greg, and I both inherited a mild version and were monitored throughout our school-age years. Luckily, we never had to have hearing aids, but I do remember sitting in that audiology booth every year raising my hands when I heard the whistles and chirps.
When Anna failed her preschool hearing screening, I was a little surprised because of her advanced speech and vocabulary. Her testing revealed the same hearing loss that I have. Our audiograms could almost be placed right on top of each other. Because of the genetic component, our audiologist and ENT wanted to have Jack tested early. I agreed but wasn't too worried because his speech was developing well. I expected his hearing to be fine or, at the very least, to be like Anna's and mine. Unfortunately, when they tested him, his hearing was worse. He was actually missing about a third of the sounds necessary for normal speech development. The audiologist was shocked that his speech had developed like it had. She recommended he start wearing hearing aids as soon as possible.
I was initially shocked and devastated and heartbroken for him. I know the struggles that my dad has had with his hearing aids and my heart was breaking thinking that Jack might have the same struggles. And for the rest of his life!
Will and I definitely mourned for a while and Jill, our audiologist, was smart enough to let us have some time to digest all of it before moving forward. Then we started noticing that Jack's speech was suffering. What we originally thought was cute two-year-old talk was really him switching several of his consonants. He would say, "it's too told" instead of "cold" and "otay" instead of "okay". He said "lellow" instead of "yellow" (my personal favorite). While I was on my motherly emotional roller-coaster, Will came in (like he so often does) and balanced me out with his rational, logical perspective. This is the same as if he needed glasses. Both of us wore glasses and turned out fine. Just like we did, it will just become what he does. He was right. Jack needed hearing aids and we needed to provide him with what he needed, even if it might be difficult in the beginning.
Once we went back to meet with Jill again for her to make Jack's ear molds, many of my concerns were relieved. Technology has come so far in this area and many of the struggles my dad had with his hearing aids have been resolved with technology. Although Jack won't be able to use some of them right now, as he gets older and more independent with them, he will be able to have different programs that he can toggle back and forth between, such as for the beach or for sporting events. His hearing aids will be blue-tooth compatible so that phones, a microphone in his classroom, and even the beloved video games, can be transmitted directly into his hearing aids. Jack's daddy thought all of that was pretty cool!! We started to call the hearing aids "super ears"!
He has to have the behind-the-ear kind for now since his ears are growing as fast as he is and the ear molds can be replaced easily. Once he is older and his ear growth slows, we can talk about in-the-ear models if he desires. I decided to get the blue ones so that hopefully we could find them easily if they fell out (or were thrown, God forbid).
When the ear molds came back, Will and I took Jack in for the actual hearing aid fitting. Jack had been so calm and cool during previous visits and had let Miss Jill do almost anything, so we were hopeful that he would continue to be laid-back. Jill put the hearing aids in and Jack looked around with his mouth open, like "what is that noise that I can hear?" I wish I had video-taped it. It was so cute. (And yes, I got teary.;) Jill took the hearing aids out to makes some adjustments and then asked us to put them back in so that we could get the hang of it with her there. This is when Jack lost it. He has been the laid-back child and although stubborn at times, has never really had a temper tantrum…until that day. He absolutely lost it. We had to hold him down to get the hearing aids in and then he threw himself on the floor and screamed. Nothing we did or tried would redirect him. I know he was probably so scared, hearing these new sounds and having these weird things in his ears and not understanding why. We had tried to prepare him before-hand, telling him he was going to have "super ears" like Papa, but how do you explain all of that to a two-year-old? My heart was breaking in two and it was all I could do to not completely lose it in Jill's office. I picked him up screaming and headed for the parking lot, leaving Will to finalize everything on the inside. Once we got outside, I don't know if it was the new sounds or the fact that there were rocks in the parking lot, but somehow I got him calmed down and he was scooping up rocks with his tractor when Will came outside to meet us. Battle #1 over. Thank God!
The next couple of days were awful. I knew that we had to be consistent and we had to make this work because he needed them. But we were having to hold him down to put them in and he was screaming and then ripping them out and we had to start all over again. I finally looked at Will and said, "I'm not doing it this way. I'm not traumatizing him every time we have to put them in." Jill had recommended that we have an "adult only" policy with the hearing aids, meaning only adults could touch them, ideally Mommy, Daddy, and grandparents and teachers when necessary. I understood the concept--we didn't want him to touch them to pull them out. But this wasn't working. So, I decided that I would do whatever it took and as long as it took, but that Jack had to let us put them in. No more wrestling matches.
Ultimately, we resorted to full out bribery. "You can have a lollipop, candy, whatever, as long as you let us put these in!" That worked at first, but he really just wanted some kind of control. We had not let him touch the hearing aids initially and he was just curious! We started letting him hold them for us. They are labeled red for "right" and blue for "left", so we let him hold the case and tell us which one he wanted put in first. This was the charm! He just wanted to have some control and play a part in this new ritual. After a couple of days of this, it became much easier to get them in. And once they were in, he pretty much left them alone.
Now that we are a couple of months out, I can gratefully report that things are MUCH better. Jack easily helps us put them in and wears them for two 3-4 hour sessions during the day (morning and then post-nap time). 95% of the time he asks or we have to remind him to take them out. The only time he tends to pull them out himself is when we're riding in the car, which my dad says is one of the worst places for background noises. I'd call that success! His speech is already improving, much to my disappointment. "Lellow" is now yellow and he even said Caroline the other day (instead of the usual "Terline"). Kind of sad!! But I know this means he is hearing what he needs to and that is a reason to celebrate! Plus, he has become the little celebrity at school. One of the girls out on the playground told her mom that she wanted hearing aids like Jack's. And Caroline wants some, too, but in purple instead. Hilarious! They have just become a part of who Jack is, right along with his sweet, energetic, funny, endearing little self. We love you Jackie-poo!
