What Is Up With Ian

Sorry to have put everyone on red alert. We are concerned, slightly alarmed, but not panicked. Over the last two to three weeks, Ian's sense of hearing has rapidly declined. Way past the point of normal fluid fluctuation. It took me a while to realize it, 'cause the kid ain't known for being what you'd call a careful listener. But Monday, I walked into his room and his back was to me. I started talking to him in a normal voice and there was no response. The house was quite (a rarity) and he was not reading. I stayed very still and began to speak louder and louder. Finally, I was yelling. Loudly. After a few shouts of his name, he turned and said, "Yes, ma'm?" I took him to the pediatrician on Thursday. For the hearing screen, he did not register any sounds in his left ear, and only two (out of five) in his right. She could not see any signs of abnormal fluid, but she would refer us to an Ear, Nose and Throat, whose tests could ascertain if there was fluid in the inner ear. So, this may sound funny, but please pray that there is a gallon of water in my son's inner ear. Make that two gallons--one for each ear.
We have a long history of hearing loss in my family. I don't think my grandfather heard more than 10 of the words I ever spoke to him. My dad is legally deaf and relies on lip reading. To show Ian how to do the hearing screening, I suggested that the nurse "test" me first. She did. I flunked, too. Though not nearly as bad as Ian. We've been concerned--at intervals--about Ian's hearing from the beginning. As a baby, he never cooed or babbled. We had tubes put in at nine months. His hearing was tested at that time, but I was never very confident in the testing. I think the tech was having a bad day. He slammed us in the booth, did two sound bleeps, opened the door and said, "He can hear." Duh. I knew that. What I'm not sure of is, "How much can he hear?" The ENT assured us that, after tubes, his vocalizations would pick up. They didn't. At 16 months, he still had 0 words. Not even, "Mama" or "Dada." No real sounds either. Of course, as a early childhood educator, I was FREAKING OUT!!! We had a battery of ECI screenings, with different therapists saying different things. One speech pathologist (who I knew and highly respected for her work in our district) diagnosed him with apraxia. She said that it might take years for him to master any spoken language, though his receptive language was high. We began sign language courses immediately at a Deaf Action Center. We also had ECI come out twice a week for speech therapy. He picked up on signs quickly, and at the height of our signing, had about 50 signs in his vocabulary. He loves for me to tell about everyone's first word. K's was "dog," Abby's was "doll," Marina's was "shoes." Then he says, with importance, "And my first SIGN was...." And he waits for me to supply the punch line, "cookie!" He digs it that his story is different from everyone else. Then about eight months in to ASL and therapy, he suddenly began to talk. Whew. We felt a huge weight was lifted. Especially since we were in the final stages of the adoption at that time, and needing to concentrate on integrating Marina in to the family, not mastering a new language. Ian began to speak so well and so much that we felt foolish for worrying in the first place. We started to wish that he would be quiet more often.
But now, I've really had to wonder again how much he has been hearing and how much he has been compensating. When he is looking at us, he is able to participate in the conversation. I honestly think he has been reading lips, like his Papa does. Do you think it is possible for a child that young to adapt in such a sophisticated manner? I also feel a huge amount of guilt for the times I've busted his bottom for not listening or paying attention. WHAT IF HE NEVER HEARD ME?
At the Su_____ house, we are brushing up on our ASL, hoping for a ENT appointment in the not-to-distant future, and praying for closure in the deaf/hearing mystery.
Remember: TWO GALLONS.