I feel strange, almost nauseous as the pink silicone mold material is squirted into my ear. It’s cold. I can feel it expanding. I am getting my own listening tube made so I can check Fiona’s hearing aids. I try to get Fiona’s attention, show her I was going through what she has already gone through today and for the past seven months. She wasn’t very interested. We have been at the audiologist for an hour and a half, she is ready to go explore. Fiona sat in the hearing test room on my lap while Linda distracted her with toys. Dr.Robert made different sounds and Fiona was tested to see if she would turn to the direction the sound was coming from. There is a box with a flashing light on and a little stuffed teddy that bangs cymbals when she looks the correct direction. Dr.Robert is outside the room using his audiometer box to test her hearing frequencies. She’s doing so well, this is our second time doing this test. The first time Fiona didn’t respond to the soft sounds and I was told our household was very loud and Fiona was most interested in loud sounds, not soft ones. I felt like a child being scolded, people always tell me I have a loud voice. I have made an effort to reduce the volume around here and Fiona did respond to the quieter sounds this time. This morning we are hanging out in the living room, Jack starts to grab Fiona’s hearing aid. I take it out and put it in my ear. It sounds like hearing under water, there’s a delay. It must be strange how Fiona wears hearing aids sometimes and not others. It’s like two different worlds. Her hearing aid molds are too small now, they buzz all the time. The new ones won’t be ready for two weeks. When we are finished with the examination. We go to the front desk to make our next appointment to pick up the new molds. Dr. Robert is really busy, the receptionist says. She looks on her computer, talks to the doctor and tells me we can come in on March 19th. I pause: Thoughts are running through my head, that’s my birthday, I want some time to myself on my birthday, is that selfish, Fiona should come first, don’t I want her to hear? I can’t put off picking up her hearing aids, she’s already losing two weeks of language development. I don’t have anyone to watch the babies that day anyhow. We’ll make a day of it. The three of us can go have fun then stop by and pick up the ear molds. O.K., I tell the receptionist March 19th is fine.
Tag: parenting
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Astrovirus, is that what we got? Maybe. My stomach still hurts, but I need to eat. The babies and Alan are asleep, 6:00 A.M., still dark. Jack and Fiona get sick first. Since Wednesday it’s been a stinky wet diarrhea, throw up, cycles of laundry on sanitary, rubbing backs and changing dirty Pajamas. Thursday night I got sick and so did Alan. I woke up in the middle of the night with terrible stomach pains. I won’t go into detail about the following events. I’ll just say Benghan Bhartha. I decide to check on Jack and Fiona. I walk into the hallway and smell that awful smell. The night before, 10PM, I asked Alan “Did you fart?” He said no. I said “I’m serious, did you fart?” “NO” he said. I needed to check the babies, and yes Diaper Blow Outs! I smell the same smell again, 3 Am. I just threw up myself. The smell is hard to handle. I take Fiona up first, she’s miserable. I change her diaper and PJ’S. Next Jack, he’s soaking wet, the diarrhea, everywhere. I feel like I’m going to puke again. I manage to get off all his clothes and give him a bath. I try to put on his diaper and PJ’s but I really feel like I’m gonna puke. I call for Daddy to help. This is not a good situation. I can handle caretaking of the sick household, I’m actually a pro at handling baby puke now. The first time I wasn’t that great. I was freaked out, but this time it’s like I’m a trained professional. But when I found myself sick too I felt frightened. How will I take care of the babies? I have no one to lean on. I started thinking about people who lived during the Spanish Flu, did babies just die in their cribs while their parents were immobilized from sickness? Yesterday I had to get up, feeling weak, a pounding head ache, make the bottles, clean up throw up, change diarrhea diapers, give love and support to Jack and Fiona because they felt awful. Alan is sick too so I need to have compassion for him as well and he can’t help me with the babies. There is no one to take care of me. I am at the top of the care giving ladder now. They all look to me for health, love, cuddling, food, comfort. I don’t have a mom or grandparents. I’m the wise old woman at the top of the mountain. Luckily I’m feeling better today. It’s supposed to be Alan’s morning with the babies, my “sleep in” morning, but I was awake so I’m letting him sleep in. He had to work all day yesterday through the sickness so he really does need a “sick day.” I’m strong. I just went down and retrieved my little angels. Jack had a bit of diarrhea but both babies are feeling better and starving! Time for bottles.
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Buzzzzzzz Fiona’s hand grabs at her ear, through her striped Hanna Anderson hat she tries to pull off her hearing aid. “pat pat pat” I say which is what I’ve learned from Early Start to teach babies to keep their hearing aids in. She’s whining and tired, it’s almost morning nap time. “Just one more bite, you’re almost done with your cereal.” I take off her hat, take out her hearing aids. As I carry her to the play n pack she’s whiny and I say “SHHHH” but she can’t hear me. I put on the sleep sheep but she can’t hear it. I give her Tiger and she starts sucking her thumb and cuddling tiger. A few minutes go by and Fiona is whining and whining, I go back in the room where the babies are napping and she’s dropped her Tiger out of the play and pack. I feel myself getting really stressed and annoyed. Take a deep breath. Give back her Tiger, Jacks doing fine, “take your nap babies” I say and shut the door. Yesterday at the non-party birthday party I was babbling back to Willa, My Friend Bettina’s eight month old baby girl. I had a brief moment where I had to question if she could hear me or not. Of course she can, she has perfect hearing, but I’m so used to thinking about Fiona’s hearing loss and if she has her hearing aids in or not it seeps into my interactions with hearing babies. I feel so much pressure to make sure I’m using the hearing aids as much as possible so Fiona will learn language. I feel guilty when I don’t put them on, when I just let Fiona “BE.” I let her head breath. I read as many books as I can when Fiona and Jack are in their high chairs, I always have her hearing aids on in her high chair. She still misses so much. There is so much time she is not wearing her hearing aids. I want to believe that’s OK. I feel like she’s still learning so much, she’s still learning about communication, she’s not learning as many “words” as Jack, but in time she will catch up.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 