Sunday, February 28, 2010

Sunday School

I get so used to not hearing in most situations that I forget I'm not hearing. That may not make any sense to anyone else! Today in Sunday School, this sweet sister in the Ward asked if I was hearing the comments from other students. I responded no and she insisted the teacher take the microphone to everyone who made a comment so that I could hear it. That was very thoughtful of her. Then the teacher broke the microphone, it was actually really funny how it happened. So then not only was the microphone unavailable for student's comments, but could not be used by the teacher anymore either. This sister patted my back and apologized. Really, it wasn't a big deal to me. I'm very used to sitting in classes and not hearing. I am a deep thinker, it's very easy to check out and get lost in my own thoughts. When she brought it to my attention that I was not hearing other people's comments in class, I remembered I wasn't hearing them. But up until then, I didn't think about not hearing. I just checked out and then checked back in again when I could hear. No biggie, I'm used to it. Some days I get more out of Church than other days. And that's okay.

Thursday, February 25, 2010


What a week it's been. I've had so much on my mind since Tuesday. I can't stop thinking about getting a cochlear implant. It's always been something that was "someday" and all of a sudden that "someday" seems awfully near. I am going to start doing some more research. For right now, I'm not ready to take the plunge. I need more time to think about it and prepare for it. I'm so grateful there is a more powerful hearing aid available and I plan on getting it soon!

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


I've been dreading today for the past few weeks. Today I got my hearing tested. And I've cried ever since I left the audiologist's office.

It's bad. Shocking. It's so bad that I was told the one thing I didn't want to hear. "Your hearing loss is so profound, you could be a candidate for a cochlear ear implant." Noooooooo! Not yet, really???

But there is one more hearing aid out there that is powerful enough for my loss. Just one. And thus the process begins. Jared, the audiologist, says the Phonak hearing aid will blow me away. He said "it will be the difference between night and day for you." Oh, how I hope he's right!

Driving home, I contemplated what it meant that my hearing is bad enough to qualify for a cochlear implant. Most people don't understand just how bad your hearing loss has to be for such a procedure. Hearing loss is on a spectrum from mild to profound. A mild loss is a 26-40 decibel loss. A profound loss is 91 decibels+ loss. Speech occurs in the 10 to 50 decibel range. My hearing loss is now severe to profound, meaning unaided I can not hear any speech, no one's.

While thinking about all this on the way home I realized something. Aided, I can hear my children. If my hearing is truly that bad, then every single time I hear my children, it's a miracle. My days are full of miracles. Words can't express how grateful I am.

Thursday, February 18, 2010


It's no secret that bearing children has taken a toll on my hearing. A big toll. I've started the process of getting new hearing aids. Part of the process is meeting with a bunch of professionals- ENT's, audiologists, etc. Each one, after finding out that pregnancy and childbirth impacts my hearing, asks me if I am done having children. Some people think it's inappropriate for them to ask me this. And it probably is. But they have a glimmer of understanding. They know how a hearing loss impacts every single area of life. They know somewhat the incredible risks I am taking in bringing children to this earth.

But the only way I can answer that question is this:

Have you met my children? If you have, you wouldn't be asking me if they are worth the risk. If you haven't, I promise you are missing out.

The Resurrection

I met Evan when we were both missionaries in Chicago. After having served a 6 month assignment in "the city", I was being transferred to an 8 month assignment in "the suburbs." My soon to be companion, Sister Pearson, informed a fellow Elder in the area that a certain Sister Kone was coming. And Sister Kone had hearing problems. Elder Scoresby's first response, "she must be looking forward to the Resurrection" was how I was introduced to the man that would become my husband exactly six years later.

Evan says shortly after he met me, he had the distinct impression that I would one day be his wife. He never made my hearing an issue. Now, six years later, it's crazy to look at the charts and see how much I've lost in just a few years. I go through adjustment cycles with each major drop. Evan says he does the same. And then he reminds me- we are looking forward to the Resurrection. And he (as well as Sister Pearson) have compiled lists of things they are going to have me listen to. They want to be part of my wonderment when I hear perfectly.


My first moment of realization that I couldn't hear as well as others occurred in primary when I was around six years old. The girls in my class were whispering to each other, sharing wonderful and exciting secrets. They turned to me to share, their mouths opened, nothing came out. Silence. They looked at me. Somewhere in their 6 year old heads, it registered I was a person who did not get it. They never tried again.

One of the things I'm looking forward to in the resurrection-- to hear whispers.