Smell The Roses

Smell The Roses

This morning, 6 Music played “I am the Resurrection” in it’s glorious eight minute something entirety. The Cyborg and I danced around like crazy people to it, and when it finished, he asked, with his voice, for more.

The Cyborg turned two at the end of January and I found myself in the strangest place leading up to his birthday. I could remember lots and lots of little details about the early days and all of the amazing emotion that gets bundled up with your new arrival. It was so strange, and then it seemed to pop back to a little corner of my heart. I wonder if this will happen every year forever more?
It also means that almost two years ago, to the day, we found out that our magical little creature was deaf. In the same way that The Cyborg being two bought up lots of feelings, so too does the time around now. Not only is it two years since he was diagnosed as being deaf, it is very nearly one year since he became The Cyborg and was implanted.
The Cyborg has had sound in his world for almost ten months now. He blows me away every single day with his signs and his spoken language. When he told Grannie on Tuesday that she was indeed a “Good boy Grannie” I nearly cried with both joy and pure amusement. And recently, when we were eating out in a really busy place in London, he reverted to almost completely signing to cope with his environment. Seriously amazed at how a little brain can adapt so quickly and so naturally.
Being almost twelve months post implant means that The Cyborg is now becoming a bit of a role model. I find myself now watching parents and their little people go through the implant programme and work up to the implant operation where it is feesable. I find myself wanting to wrap my arms around them and tell them that it’ll be ok. That yes, it’s a tough ride but dig deep, you can do it. It’s like running a long run. Bits in the middle make you hurt and cry but get towards the end and the euphoria is oh so worth it. And sometimes, you need to run up the hills backwards for a while, just to trick your brain a little bit.
It excites me to think about the future with these incredible little people. To watch them grow and change. It makes me laugh on the inside when The Cyborg turns his head away from me so he can’t see my signs and I know that as he gets older, he’s just going to take his ears off so that he can totally ignore me. It amazes me, that at two, he can almost put his ears on himself and that he is learning how to put the batteries in, that at 6am in the morning, he can sign to me that he wants his ears.

Imagine my joy at being able to read “Green Eggs and Ham” to a boy who I thought might never hear the words. And imagine, how my soul fills with something I can’t describe when The Cyborg asks for more music.