Once in a blue moon
Jan 26, 2008 @ 01:07 PM
Ollie and I
went to the bookstore this morning, a rare time for
me to just have one child with me. I needed a
parenting book about preteens, and I made a beeline
to the trains which are located in the kids area,
near the parenting section. I heard a woman speak to
her son, and knew she was deaf. She sounded just like
my mother-in-law, who passed away in 2001, and who
went deaf in her late teens.
She asked if Oliver had cochlear implants. Fortunately, she said it without even a hint of dismay, and so we struck up a conversation. She works at the deaf school near us, and was raised orally (and, was not apparently angry about it), then learned to sign as an adult. She enjoyed asking about the boys, and it was with reluctance that I finally left when I had to go. I felt good because I was able to use my past experience with my MIL (and speaking so that someone could lipread) and I felt that we connected. She seemed happy for Oliver. I would say that we could have become fast friends, and I even wished that I had shared my phone number with her.
It highlights the point that not all deaf adults, nay, even perhaps most of them, are not opposed to what we have done. In fact, it takes bravery and maturity to see when people have advantages that we didn't have years ago and yet, to see them as good. I think it is similar to my mother-in-law's discussions with me years ago about breastfeeding. She had not done it, didn't know how, didn't know the benefits, etc. She was a very young mother, recently deafened, and had bottlefed her boys. Yet, when she had grandchildren and read a few things about the benefits, she was wholeheartedly in support and didn't make any of those "I didn't do it and my kids turned out fine" comments.
There are militant sites which rail against cochlear implants, calling them "snake oil" and calling us parents horrible names. Fortunately, I know that they work well and it doesn't influence my ability to raise my boys. But there are kids whose parents are in the throes of having only just discovered that their child is deaf, and are hoping that the CI will work for their child. When they read these blogs, they may not know that those minority voices are telling tales. Cochlear implants work very well in children. The surgical risks are very low. They do not hurt. While some kids feel like they are made fun of, what kid doesn't? I would imagine that if it wasn't the CI, it would be the deaf accent, or the (in my case as a kid) funny clothes or glasses. No one escapes, it seems, being a kid. But now, our kids can at least speak in the language of their family and neighbors.
Updates on progress...
Oliver and I can now have conversations in the car in which I can determine that he is not only hearing, but understanding me. I was driving home from dropping his brother (age 13) off at a friend's house, and he was getting fussy. He likes to have his brothers in the car, and is used to them entertaining him. I told him we were going home, and that we'd see Elliot and daddy, and eat dinner. "EAT?" he squealed. He loves to eat. He also said "Eh-ee-uh eat um ums?" He always wants to know what Elliot is doing. I talked about it, asking if he wanted to eat. "DA," he said (which is his "ya.") He answered a few other questions, but basically the conversation got us home without so much difficulty. We talked about the scenery, and he knew what we had to look forward to. This was all while I was driving and he was behind me in a carseat.
Just another example from our rather ordinary lives.
She asked if Oliver had cochlear implants. Fortunately, she said it without even a hint of dismay, and so we struck up a conversation. She works at the deaf school near us, and was raised orally (and, was not apparently angry about it), then learned to sign as an adult. She enjoyed asking about the boys, and it was with reluctance that I finally left when I had to go. I felt good because I was able to use my past experience with my MIL (and speaking so that someone could lipread) and I felt that we connected. She seemed happy for Oliver. I would say that we could have become fast friends, and I even wished that I had shared my phone number with her.
It highlights the point that not all deaf adults, nay, even perhaps most of them, are not opposed to what we have done. In fact, it takes bravery and maturity to see when people have advantages that we didn't have years ago and yet, to see them as good. I think it is similar to my mother-in-law's discussions with me years ago about breastfeeding. She had not done it, didn't know how, didn't know the benefits, etc. She was a very young mother, recently deafened, and had bottlefed her boys. Yet, when she had grandchildren and read a few things about the benefits, she was wholeheartedly in support and didn't make any of those "I didn't do it and my kids turned out fine" comments.
There are militant sites which rail against cochlear implants, calling them "snake oil" and calling us parents horrible names. Fortunately, I know that they work well and it doesn't influence my ability to raise my boys. But there are kids whose parents are in the throes of having only just discovered that their child is deaf, and are hoping that the CI will work for their child. When they read these blogs, they may not know that those minority voices are telling tales. Cochlear implants work very well in children. The surgical risks are very low. They do not hurt. While some kids feel like they are made fun of, what kid doesn't? I would imagine that if it wasn't the CI, it would be the deaf accent, or the (in my case as a kid) funny clothes or glasses. No one escapes, it seems, being a kid. But now, our kids can at least speak in the language of their family and neighbors.
Updates on progress...
Oliver and I can now have conversations in the car in which I can determine that he is not only hearing, but understanding me. I was driving home from dropping his brother (age 13) off at a friend's house, and he was getting fussy. He likes to have his brothers in the car, and is used to them entertaining him. I told him we were going home, and that we'd see Elliot and daddy, and eat dinner. "EAT?" he squealed. He loves to eat. He also said "Eh-ee-uh eat um ums?" He always wants to know what Elliot is doing. I talked about it, asking if he wanted to eat. "DA," he said (which is his "ya.") He answered a few other questions, but basically the conversation got us home without so much difficulty. We talked about the scenery, and he knew what we had to look forward to. This was all while I was driving and he was behind me in a carseat.
Just another example from our rather ordinary lives.