Kids tend to process it the easiest. With children we explain, Owen is like Nemo. He has a small ear. They usually giggle and proceed with wanting to see it, no sooner then they see it they smile and move on like nothing. His young cousin even said, wow that’s cool! 

Adults tend to be stunned initially, giving a confused look and then asking the question, “is he deaf?”

The answer is complicated. At this point we have done 3 test that measure Owens hearing. The test tells us his brain waves are picking up sound on one side, which means even if Owen isn’t able to hear through his ears, a device can be placed on his head to bypass his ears, straight to his brain that will run sounds to his inner ear so that he can hear. His brain waves on the right big ear are picking up double the normal volume, the left not much at all. The tech states it’s “almost” a guarantee he could hear; but Austin and I feel it’s best to stick to the facts while remaining hopeful. So we know he will be able to pick up some sound, but we are unsure to what extent or how. At this time we are just loving on him with all the music and voices until we see a specialist  who can confirm the extent of his hearing.

We have decided to avoid words like “normal ear”, or “bad ear”. It’s important that we already start the process of developing Owens confidence and want him to understand that while he is different, different can be good, it can even be great . So we ask that everyone calls it his small and big ear. 

The next question or look I get is the, “concerned” look. Yes, my son is different, yes it hurts. More then most will ever know. No I’m not okay, but we will be. We want to surround Owen with love and laughter. We know other senses will be heightened because of his hearing loss, so showing him smiles and joy, well that’s everyone’s job. 

Austin’s first words to me, as they laid Owen across my chest was, “he’s gonna be okay, we’re gonna make him tough”. So as parents we made a promise to make him the toughest, most confident little boy we can. So when the moments comes that he feels scared or sad he will stand up tall and shake it off. 

These last weeks have been so full with appointments and procedures I hadn’t had a moment to sit and process it all. So the last few days have been difficult for me, I think of him starting school and being bullied for being different and I break down in tears. I become angry that it happened to my son, it’s unfair. I question why and I cry. I blame myself and wonder what I did wrong and I sob, as I rock him apologizing over and over. It’s been difficult to understand, difficult to accept. The road ahead seems long. I dread the many tests, the surgeries, the unknown for Owen. But Austin reminds me that life is unfair, that we were made for this... that Owen is going to get the opportunity to be more than just ordinary. So Austin holds me, until I’m ready, I wipe my tears away, I kiss my son and I remind him that he’s the coolest kid in the world already. Yes, Austin is our family’s rock. ❤️

My goal is to smile through the tears, to not allow anything to ruin these moments. To laugh more and show Owen every day how strong we are as a family. 

Together we are going to make him strong, or maybe he will be the one to make us all stronger.