A Deaf Girl Living In A Hearing World - Chapter Two.

Mum’s knee bounced up and down in the hospital, like a restless little trampoline under my hand. Dad kept flipping through a pamphlet about “Paediatric Hearing Loss,” his brow furrowed like he was reading a different language. They didn’t say much. Adults think kids don’t notice these silences, but we do. Sometimes those are the loudest moments of all.

I had a ENT specialist called Mr Knight, he reminded me of einstein, but he said my ears were fascinating. Later, he showed my parents a graph, a line that dipped and dropped like a rollercoaster heading downhill. I couldn’t understand the words, but I understood their faces. Mum’s eyes glistened, even though she smiled and nodded. Dad leaned forward, asking questions I couldn’t hear, but his hands were clenched together, turning his knuckles white.

Finally, Mr Knight looked at me, and this time, he spoke slowly, carefully.

“You’re losing some of the sounds most people hear, sweetheart. It’s not your fault. It just means I get to see you more.” he said it like it was a small thing. Like it was fixable. Like putting a plaster on a scraped knee.

But when we got in the car, the silence between my parents told me it wasn’t small.

I stared out the window as we drove home, watching cars go by, wondering how many of those people could hear everything. Could they hear the wind? The sound of tires against the road? Could they hear music playing without having to guess what the lyrics said?

That night, Mum sat on my bed and explained it in the way only mums can soft, simple, but with an edge of something fragile beneath the words.

“Your ears might not work, honey.  But all your other senses work and most importantly, you’re still you.”

I asked her, “Will I go completely deaf?”

She paused, just for a second but I caught it.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But no matter what, you’ll be okay. You’ll learn new ways to listen, and I am right here with you.”

That was the first night I realized something important, parents don’t always have the answers and maybe that was okay.

I fell asleep that night wondering if I would ever hear my mum’s voice clearly again. But I also wondered what else was out there waiting for me, what kinds of things you could hear with your eyes, your hands, your heart, if you just paid enough attention. The world was changing for me, but it made me appreciate everything around me so much more.