The sounds of our baby boy

I always knew that getting cochlear implants would help me hear, and therefore respond faster, to my baby crying. Little did I know they would also help me monitor his well-being in other ways. While I was pregnant, and getting regular foetal monitoring, there were often times when I was chasing him around my stomach with the receiver, using only the faint sound of his heartbeat alone to ‘find’ him again.

During the birth and in the weeks thereafter, my cochlear implants were crucial for communicating with our son's doctors and nurses in noisy environments.

And now, at home, yes – I can respond to his crying. I’m learning to recognise the different types of crying. But I can also use sound to gauge when he’s had enough to eat. When he needs to be burped. By wearing a processor at night, I can tell when he’s vomited and needs quick attention. I can tell by his breathing whether his head needs to be repositioned in the bed. Best of all, I can tell that he’s breathing.

And in amidst the sounds that help me care for him, there are a bunch of others that always bring a smile to my face.

So here’s a list of our favourite sounds that he makes …

Flipper: Those cute little dolphin chattering sounds he makes in his sleep.

Hic!: Speaks for itself. But the cuteness wears off after 15 minutes of trying to cure his hiccups. Trust me.

The Yawn-Squeal: Is it a yawn? Is it a squeal? Why not both.

Ahoy Matey: The ‘aaargh’ sound he makes – it’s actually pirate talk for ‘put that bottle back in my mouth immediately. Matey.’

The Dummy Spectrum: let’s start with the rhythmic stop/start sucking sounds, move to the gentle popping sound of the dummy being spat out, and finish with our personal favourite – the disgruntled ‘oy oy oy oy oy oy oy’ accompaniment.

Fido: you know that growling sound your dog makes when you play tug-of-war? That’s the one. This sound is even accompanied by the appropriate visual of his head thrashing madly from side to side. Only in our son's case, it usually means ‘get this stuff out of my mouth’ (eg medicine), not the opposite.

The Tongue Click: he spits out his dummy, spreads his lips wide … then makes eye contact and clicks his tongue at us. Put simply, that means: Feed Me.

Feeding Time: there’s Swallowing, Gulping, Spluttering and even Wheezing when it’s time for a burp.

The Burp: loud and proud, he gets heads turning from whole other rooms. It’s usually followed by the Sigh of Relief from mum or dad, unless of course it pre-empts vomit in which case it gets the Squeal from mum and the Whoah from dad.

Mr Sneeze: out to rival dad, his record currently stands at six in a row.

The Scream: this is preceded by a tomato red face, wide open mouth, and Quivering Gasps while he builds up momentum … and then lets loose.

Breathing: nothing more comforting to my ears than the steady sound of his breathing at night.

The ‘Get Me Out of Here’ Grunt: tends to surface at loud shopping plazas.

Ferdinand the Bull: my little pet name for that huffing sound he makes through his nostrils … much akin to the sound a bull makes when he’s ready to charge. Hmm. 

* The writer has courteously decided to spare you the toilet sounds.