I was born in 1973, a time long before newborn hearing screenings became standard practice. My mother had an instinct that something was amiss with my hearing, but the pediatrician dismissed her concerns, insisting that I was perfectly fine. Undeterred, she persisted and ultimately received confirmation of her worries when I was diagnosed with severe hearing loss at just 14 months old.
My parents were initially clueless about deafness. Should they teach me sign language or focus on speech? They concluded that while I could always learn to sign later, developing speech was a more immediate priority. The critical window for language development was narrow, and they aimed to equip me for independence, even if it meant taking the more challenging path that promised greater rewards.
My mother took a significant leave from her teaching career—an absence that stretched even longer than planned when my younger sister was also born deaf three years later. She dedicated herself to driving me to daily speech and language therapy sessions. Her teaching expertise proved invaluable as she engaged me in lessons at home. Parenthood wasn’t merely about enjoyment for her; it was a continuous learning experience. If I wanted a cookie, I had to make a sound, even a simple “coco,” rather than just pointing.
When I started school, my mother filled countless notebooks with communications to my teachers. She shared updates, voiced concerns, and chronicled my progress. Before the digital age of emails, this painstaking documentation became a tangible record of my journey—complete with unexpected notes about everything from a milestone in potty training to the passing of my paternal grandmother.
Thanks to my mother’s unwavering determination, I was integrated into the public school system and continued speech therapy throughout high school. My sister and I were encouraged to embrace every opportunity and advocate for ourselves. I eventually graduated from college and even pursued a graduate degree, got married, and started a family. Whenever I encounter challenges with my own kids, I draw inspiration from my mother’s incredible resilience.
The word “perseverance” barely encapsulates all that my mom did for me. It’s her dedication that allows me to express my gratitude and say, “Thank you.”
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In summary, my mother’s efforts and perseverance in the face of challenges not only shaped my childhood but also equipped me with the tools to navigate life’s hurdles.
Keyphrase: Lessons from My Mother on Hearing Loss
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