A Daughter Named Dante

"I'm afraid I don't have good news for you today. Out of the brainstem auditory response, bone conduction and neurological tests performed today, there has been no response from either ear".

Me, Tommie and Dante all stare at the audiologist in slack-jawed amazement.

"What?"

"We are going to refer you to the cochlear implant team at the University of Pretoria to start the process"

"Are you saying she is completely deaf?"

"We don't use that word anymore but rather profound hearing loss"

"Okay...so...but she's deaf?"

"We are going to do follow up tests in two weeks"

"But...why?"

Mumbling something about the machines.

Me; gathering denial and hope; maybe the machines are broken?

But to be honest; it has been kind of painfully obvious that Dante couldn't hear all too well.

"You don't think she's just stubborn?" asks the babysitter when I mentioned our suspicions long before all the tests and whatnot.

"Well, sure, she's stubborn as fuck but also she seems a little bit deaf"

Babysitter doesn't look concerned.

Good. I don't need more concerned people.

My mom: "We are extremely concerned about... (enter my brain; thinking up all the things that could follow this statement, e.g. "your smoking, your marriage, your behaviour, your mental illness, your health, OUR health, someone else's health, the pandemic, the possibility of an asteroid colliding with earth within the next 24 hours and all our assets are tied up so we can't go to Gold Reef City for old time's sake"...Dante's hearing"

Me: "I know. Me too" (secretly going into a blind panic behind my calm exterior because gosh if my parents are so worried maybe I should be totally hysterical(er)?

Jump back to present.

Audiologist: "Are you okay?"

Me: "Sure, I'm fine, I knew all along, heh heh, kay byyyeeee!"

Twenty minutes later; crying hysterically and sucking on a fistful of cigarettes between sobs.

Why did this happen?

Is it because I complain almost incessantly about how hard it is to Mother?

Is it because I used my own weight in mood-altering substances in my not-so-recent wild youth?

Is it because I harbour a deep-seated distrust and resentment towards car-guards?

"I have always had a creeping suspicion that my daughter can't do math's because I never carried her in a kangaroo pouch as a baby", my cousin tells me.

(Please remind me to tell my mom that this is the reason I myself can't do math's and that she should give me some money to make up for it).

I find my mind wandering back to little glimpses in the past.

Dante not being woken at night by violent slashing noises and screaming...I like my horror movies...and also Tommie and me may or may not have some weird sex stuff we're into.

Dante not being woken or in fact perturbed at all by her super drama queen sister, frequently having million decibel, never-ending meltdowns.

Dante not having a fright when Tommie says "BOO!" to her when I finally get her to sleep after a long day. A fact that definitely saved his life on numerous occasions.

I mean honestly, who DOES that?!

Dante not going into screaming hysterics when I electrically inflate the kiddies pool with her sitting in it (think sudden, unexpected whooshing whirr from pump) but rather just sitting there, philosophically watching the tubes rise.

Dante looking only slightly disappointed and confused when a balloon pops right in her face.

Like the sands through the hour glass; these are the nights of my life. Thinking of times my little girl seemed to not hear so good.

Is it because I took Serdep when I was pregnant?

Okay maybe but if I didn't, none of our little family unit of four might be alive today. 

I will set the scene with a limerick; 

There once was a virus called Covid

And everyone got locked down, t'was so shit

A third trimester mother

Almost her two year old did smother

But Serdep had everything covered.

Second question; is it because I selfishly wanted to experience an unmedicated home birth in a tub?

Okay, so yes, she came three weeks early (just like her sister who hears me opening a chocolate on the other side of the house, behind a closed door, with the tv and fan on, in the middle of the night.

And also, yes, she needed oxygen which the midwife gave her. Also I took her to the pediatrician the next day and he was in-love with her. 

I like him. He has long hair.

We never did a newborn hearing test and I can't for the life of me remember why because I remember thinking about it a lot.

"These things sometimes slip through the cracks" the audiologist tells me.

"Also; babies need to be about 10kg before certain tests and scans can be done"

Dita is four and just reached 11kg, my mother in law is minute in size.

This is all her fault...

Is totally irrational blame-shifting a stage of grief? Ah I'll just lump it in there with angerdenialbargaining.

Is it because I sent her to creche at just two days shy of three months old and maybe she caught an obscure virus that causes deafness in babies?

And if so, why the hell did no one warn me?

And also, why isn't all the other little snotnoses deaf?

Ag, either way.

Even though the tests have been kind of interesting and I'm having fun learning South African Sign Language, my heart pendulums between bleeding and breaking and then just kind of vibrating with shock and dismay.

People from all over the place have offered their support and I must admit, the attention has been nice. I haven't gotten much attention recently, being all goodie two shoes; dead-boring, clean and sober and going to bed at the-baby's-asleep-o-clock (between 19:00 (praise be) and 20:00 (will I never sleep again? Maybe I should just drug her).

Come to think about it, might she be deaf because I have drugged her just a tiny bit on only a few occasions? You know...for sanity's sake? Or lack thereof?

Nah. Can't be that. Then the whole world would be deaf, Shirley.

I would gladly give up getting any attention at all ever again if it meant her hearing would return or exist even, if she was born deaf.

Is it because she had numerous ear infections and I only took her to an ent at 18 months to get grommets inserted?

"If there is fluid in the middle ear, everything sounds like you're under water. People say their child differs like night and day after grommet insertion." the doctor at the emergency room tells me when I take Dante for the millionth time because she is in so much pain from her ears and antibiotics and Aspelone just doesn't seem to be cutting it anymore and I'm freaking the fuck out.

"Cool! She is kind of moody which can be annoying," I sez to the Doctor "how soon can we do it?"

Literally three days later she had her grommets. It was a harrowing experience. I couldn't give her boob-juice since four in the morning. The operation was only at 09:15 after the youngest baby was taken into surgery first and then the sneaky AF other OLDER baby and his sneaky AF mommy pushed in line and went before us too.

I wanted to object but have an innate fear of nurses...

Dante was furious. 

They couldn't keep her hospital bracelet thingy on anywhere, without her ripping it off within seconds and trying to push it into someone's anus (mostly mine).

"It's okay, we'll just remember who she is and what needs to be done" the nurse chirps at me, having a wonderful day, not having her nipples pulled right through her collar by ravenous, rageful little baby hands. 

I suppose if they mistakenly removed her adenoids, tonsils and inserted grommets it could save me a trip or two in the future, plus then I could sue them for the money I need for cochlear implants.

They sound expensive.

Heh he, sound. See what I did there?

After the grommets and three days of green ooze coming out of her ears we eagerly started watching her for signs of improved hearing.

Over the next month I felt like I was watching a candle flickering in an occasional gust.

At times we were sure she could hear. At other times it seemed like she was unable to hear even the loudest sound.

I pestered the ENT day and night, sending suggestions, questions and even studies, explaining to him exactly what the problem is and how to fix it, using this new experimental treatment some guy invented in Centurion (ENT's hate this man for inventing cheap, 100% successful ear healing tool! the click bait headline might say).

Eventually I went to a different ENT and then pestered him night and day.

Finally both of them, almost simultaneously, referred me to audiologists for extensive tests.

"I mean, should we really even do it? What could it possibly accomplish? We should totally rather do that three minute brand new operation that fixes everything, that I read about on the internet?" I say to Tommie.

"Well maybe we should just do the tests so we can stop constantly asking each other whether we think she heard this or that or that other thing or this here gun shot right next to her ear?"

So we did.

And right in front of my eyes, that little flame flickered and died.

My baby is deaf.

But at least those pesky A Quiet Place aliens won't get her. 

With my laugh (which will one day return to me), I'll be one of the first to go belly up into their hideous alien tummies.