Wednesday, May 5, 2010

joy in the journey

going, going...Italicgone.

sometimes a full morning of waking up early, then a one hour commute to school, 3 hours of class and therapy, and finally the one hour drive home is too much for this little one and she falls soundly asleep en route home to oakland. admittedly her car-nap is not my favorite thing: if she falls asleep for even five minutes of the drive she won't take her regular afternoon nap. that means no break (or lately, naptime) for me, plus it means a fussypants kiddo until bedtime. that said, it is a full morning of trekking and work for her, so i understand why she wants to sleep.

she was pretty tired after school yesterday, so she fell asleep a few minutes in, and it gave me about 45 minutes of quiet to think.

when we first heard the words that monrovia was deaf, an impenetrable darkness and hopelessness descended into our lives. that sounds dramatic, but that is how it felt. i was sad, angry, and lost. i didn't know at that point that our daughter would be full of life and joy even without the ability to hear. (of course, i could have told you in an abstract sense that things would be ok, and i usually smiled and nodded at the well-meaning people who told me that, but i didn't feel that way in the moment.)

there are many moments that will be hard on this journey, but as i was driving yesterday, i was so thankful for the gifts that have come out of having a daughter who is deaf. i am incredibly grateful for the people who are now a part of my life who likely i never would have met unless my daughter was deaf.

as i sat in the family room of m's school while monrovia was in class, talking with other moms whose kids also have hearing loss. moms who are now friends; moms who teach me how to be a good mom by the way that they parent their daughters; moms that i can talk to about all sorts of things- buying houses, good recipes, life's ups and downs, cute shoes, etc.; moms who get it because we are on similar journeys.

in monrovia's therapy session, i was grateful for her therapist, sharon, who has been working with our daughter since she was 7 months old, and who rejoices with us in every single developmental milestone.

as i walked up to morning music with m's teacher, sally, i was thankful for her energy and creativity in a classroom of two year olds. she brings out the best of the kids in her class.

when monrovia accidentally wiped hand sanitizer in her eyes, beginning a full fledged screamfest, and her classroom aide, matt, came to her rescue wiping her eyes and supplying two animal crackers as diversion, i was thankful for his patience. (and the fact that he is her first grown up boy crush. i hear about matt all day long, every day...)

just watching both sally and sharon exhausts me, but i never doubt that they are on our team and are celebrating our whole daughter, and not just her speech and language development.

and then there are those who i have met through the world of blogging, some who i have met in person, some whom i have not, who have become friends, and who are an encouragement and support.

i'm thankful that 2 years into this journey, my life is richer and wholer. i never would have imagined that when we heard the words "profound hearing loss", but it is worth celebrating.


  1. Oh, my thoughts *exactly*. Who knew? It's not like I walk around saying, "I'm glad Ben is deaf." But I'm definitely glad he is the way he is in every respect -- deafness is just one of his qualities, and at this point I can imagine him without it -- and sometimes it's actually pretty cool.

  2. So much joy, and so much to be thankful for. I love this, S. xoxo

  3. Whoops -- typo -- meant to say "I *can't* imagine him without it." Not enough caffeine.


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