Me? Deaf? Oh yeah, that's right.

Was it only last year that I used to deliberately seek out strangers so I could practise my listening skills? Wow. All I need to do now is head out of the house with my son and wait for people to approach me instead. Seriously. If you have access to a baby, you should try it some time. I can often pre-empt their comments, and that’s no challenge. ‘How old is he?’ ‘What’s his name?’  ‘Oh, he’s a happy baby, isn’t he?’ ‘Oh, he’s a grumpy baby, isn’t he?’ Sometimes they say weird stuff that throws me off guard. ‘So you’re not working at the moment then?’ Erm … no. (But would you care to explain my burning eyes, aching shoulders and feet and vomit-ridden piles of laundry?)

I used to obsess about hearing people in noisy environments, especially at the shops, but I don’t have time to fuss with the remote anymore. Much easier to choose one setting and leave it there. I chose the ‘Noise’ program about four months ago, and haven’t touched it since. (A wise setting if you’ve experienced one of our baby's drop-of-a-hat screaming sessions – all that CPAP in ICU has given him the lung capacity of an opera singer.) Seriously, I found the N5 remote control buried deep within my handbag between an old Tupperware container and the Loch Ness Monster. (OK, that last item is bright green, rattles and is courtesy of Fisher Price.)

Yes, hearing people was difficult when he was first born. His newborn sleep patterns left me so exhausted that I didn’t have much energy left to hear. Close family members were a bit concerned about the massive drop in my hearing and I had to assure them it had nothing to do with my implants failing! Just explain that my brain is doing all the work, not my ears, and that I’d hear them better once he started sleeping through the night, ha ha.

Am I hearing better now? Yes, absolutely, but also because I’m not always obsessing about being able to hear people. Somewhere along the line, I forgot I had hearing issues at all … and life became a lot more comfortable when this happened. Do I hear everything? No. Sometimes it’s about my energy levels. Sometimes it’s an attention thing – my brain is geared to tune in to my son first, so my attention will divert to him if I think he needs me or if I’m listening out for him, and that might mean I miss what someone has said. Sometimes it’s a genuine environmental issue – it might just be pretty noisy. But I’ll just ask the person to repeat themselves and make sure I’m ‘tuned in’ the second time around – and then I hear them.

I’ve also been temporarily out of touch with everything that kept me connected to my hearing loss – volunteer work for Cochlear and The Bionics Institute, writing for CICADA’s magazine, updating the blog and playing the piano – I’m always reminded of hearing issues when I play the piano, ha ha. Plus I’m barely without sound these days, disconnecting both processors only when showering. So it’s no wonder I’ve forgotten I’m deaf.

In such chaotic times, I’ve been able to relax on the hearing front and just enjoy all the wonderful new sounds that my cochlear implants are so reliably delivering … my son's first laugh, a gorgeous little chuckle. His squeals when he hears music. Him chattering away in his cot, first thing every morning. (I love his little ‘ay-oh’s!). His complete sigh of disgust if you dare turn a light on when he’s sleeping. That contented sigh after a full bottle. Punctuated yawns. Impatient shrieks when the next spoonful is taking too long to get to his mouth. The oy-oy-oy sound when he’s annoyed. His head-turning was-that-the-baby?! burps.

And yes, even the reliable sounds of strangers cooing over him at the shops!