Some of you already know, but Avery is having surgery – to get ear tubes inserted and her adenoids removed – this Thursday. The short version of the story is that we recently learned she has a hearing problem (due to fluid build-up in her ears), and she needs the procedure to help both her hearing and her speech. The long version of the story is…

As I’ve hinted here in the past, Avery has always been behind in her speech development. I tried not to panic about it – I knew I shouldn’t compare her to Zoe, who was an early talker, and I know kids develop at different paces – but as Avery got older and was still difficult to understand, my gut told me something wasn’t quite right. I didn’t believe the problem was cognitive – she was bright and she seemingly understood everything people said to her – and the people around her (first Elena, then her teachers and doctor) weren’t overly concerned. Something, though, prompted me to get Avery officially evaluated earlier this spring, and the speech pathologist confirmed that Avery was speech-delayed. We started “talk class” (as Avery calls it) and listened to the pathologist’s suggestion to see an ENT right away. She thought, based on the tone of Avery’s voice, that a physical issue could be the culprit.

The ENT appointment was two weeks ago, and we learned there that Avery’s ears are completely full of fluid and that her hearing is “significantly impaired.” Avery hears as if she’s under water: Everything is muffled. The doctor said Avery’s obviously done a great job of compensating for her lack of hearing (since no one suspected a problem), but the hearing issue is likely the reason why her speech hasn’t developed as it should. It’s difficult to speak correctly if you can’t hear yourself talk!

I wasn’t surprised by the development but I was certainly saddened. The thought of little Avery not being able to hear the world around her all these months (years?) made me want to cry (hence the post-doctor bursting into tears I mentioned earlier). What has life been like for her? What has she missed out on?

My sunnier half (i.e. Q), though, is constantly reminding me of the good part of this news: Her problem isn’t a permanent one and can be fixed, the procedure (which is really quite common) is low-risk and quick, and she’s going to be as good as new – maybe even a whole new girl – by her third birthday. And if all that doesn’t make me feel better, Avery usually can: Whenever I remind her that we’re going back to the doctor soon, she gives me a big smile and says, “To get my ears fixed!”

-M