By Sahar Reiazi

I'm a mother of three wonderful children: Ghazal, age 5, and twins, Sina and Saghar, age 4. We've had quite a journey with hearing loss.

It all began when our twins were born. We already had a daughter, then we were blessed with boy-girl twins! Life was hectic. I got all the help I could from a daytime nanny. My mother, sister, and husband, Keyvan, were also extremely supportive.

In the hospital, our daughter, Saghar, passed the otoacoustic emissions (OAE) test, while our son, Sina, needed a follow up after failing his. The doctors indicated there might have been amniotic fluid left behind his eardrums.

Always an optimist, I didn’t give Sina’s test results a second thought. However, Keyvan has always been a realist. He was worried. He was right to be.

As directed, we returned to the hospital with Sina when he was one month old. He failed the OAE test a second time. The staff scheduled him for an auditory brainstem response test (ABR) test. I was somewhat worried at this stage, but I just wanted to get the test finished with so the family would be at ease, feeling it was all a mistake and that Sina could hear.

The day of the ABR test was one of the most defining moments for me in the process. The audiologist placed electrodes (sensor stickers) on Sina's head as he was sleeping in his striped yellow and white onesie. I sat beside him.  

The audiologist shook her head. "Profound hearing loss in the left ear,” she announced. Then it hit me! I started crying silent tears. But I stayed hopeful, telling myself he definitely had typical hearing in his right ear. I knew he did, I thought, because he reacts when we make sounds. He reacts!

The audiologist shook her head a second time and said, "Profound hearing loss in the right ear.” I was shattered. My face was wet from all the tears, the uncontrollable tears. The audiologist gave me a box of tissues. I picked Sina up as he was still asleep and couldn't believe that I was so disconnected from him. I couldn't believe he couldn't hear my voice.

At six months, Sina was fitted for hearing aids. I gained hope again, as I usually do. I identified an auditory-verbal therapist who was willing to come to our home and train us and Sina. We practiced and practiced. Sina's hearing declined. My husband, still the realist, said it was time to pursue what we had already been contemplating: “Sina needs cochlear implants (CIs).” And so we began to move forward with CIs.

Another defining experience for me was when we met Sina's surgeon, Dr. Catherine Birman. The night before I read she had received the New South Wales Woman of the Year Award for her work in CIs in 2017. I was impressed but intimidated. We were sitting in her reception area when she walked in. She was a very tall, blonde woman with a serious face and professional attire. I was even more intimidated. The receptionist called us in and walked into Dr. Birman’s office.

Immediately Dr. Birman smiled at us and explained so thoroughly what was going to happen. She was so nice, which was not at all what I had anticipated. She asked me a question—I can't remember what it was—and I broke down crying. She got up from behind her desk, made her way to where I was sitting, knelt beside me, and hugged me tightly. She looked into my eyes, with her own eyes tear-filled, and told me, "I know it is the hardest thing in the world to hand your son to me for surgery, but I promise, I will return him back to you safe and sound.” I felt a big weight lifted off my shoulders.

Sina was implanted and received the best care at his early intervention center. He worked with Maree Rennie, a certified infant teacher and certified teacher of the deaf at Royal Institute for Deaf and Blind Children in Sydney, Australia. She was so patient and kind to us. She is an extraordinary woman.

When Dr. Birman walked out of surgery, I asked her what she enjoys looking at and she replied, “The ocean.” I replied, "You used the art in your hands for my son, and I will use the art in my hands to paint the ocean for you.” And I did. It is now hanging in her office. I also asked Maree what her favorite flowers were, and she said delphiniums. So I painted her a vase full of delphiniums.

Sina is doing great. He is still receiving weekly speech therapy sessions. And I work with him every day. His dad uses every opportunity to talk to him and explain things to him. He has the funniest conversations with his sisters. We all read books together. It is a happy ending.

Sahar Reiazi lives in Tehran, Iran, and is the author and illustrator of the children’s book “My Cochlear Implants,” which she has dedicated to “all the little ones with hearing loss.” To download the book, see her website.