We live in a world where no news is good news and lately, that’s been true for us.
It’s been a little while since our last update, not because we’ve had nothing to say, but because things have been . . . steady. And honestly, sometimes steady is exactly what you hope for. No emergencies. No surprises. Just time to simply be.
Now, the time has come, and we have some big updates to share.
Recently, Tucker had another MRI of his brain, inner ear structure, and auditory nerves. The goals were twofold: first, to determine whether he’d be a candidate for cochlear implants, and second, to follow up on the condition of his brain after meningitis.
We had a win. A big one.
Miraculously, all visible signs of meningitis appear to have resolved. The thickening of he brain lining, the lesions, the tiny clots – all gone. We sat there, staring at the paediatrician in disbelief, letting it sink in. By the absolute grace of God, we finally received some good news. After weeks of uncertainty and heartbreak, we got a moment of reprieve. A deep breath.
Of course, as we’ve come to learn, good news often brings new questions.
Harriet, our psychologist from Healthy Hearing, gently prepared us for this. She told me that while the MRI results would bring clarity, they’d also open a new chapter, one filled with important decisions and a different kind of uncertainty.
At our follow-up with the ENT, we learned that Tucker is a candidate for cochlear implants . . . with some caveats. One of his cochleas looked clear and structurally ready for implantation. The other, however, had not fared as well. The MRI revealed scarring in one of the cochlea channels, the preferred pathway for threading the electrode. Because of this, there’s a risk it might not thread through smoothly or completely.
A new urgency emerged. To give Tucker the best chance of hearing through both ears, the ENT explained that we’d need to proceed with surgery and soon. What we thought was months away suddenly became a matter of weeks. Four to six, to be exact.
It was one of those moments where the ground shifts beneath you, a feeling we’ve become all too familiar with. Hope and fear sitting side by side. Relief that he’s eligible. Fear that time is ticking. Gratitude for answers. Uncertainty about what comes next.
Deciding to move forward with cochlear implants hasn’t been a simple choice. But we truly believe it’s what’s best for our child. That decision doesn’t change the fact that Tucker is, and always will be, Deaf. Implants may offer him access to sound, but they don’t “fix” or erase his Deaf identity.
This journey isn’t about choosing between worlds. It’s about opening both to him. That means doing all we can to support access to sound through technology, while wholeheartedly embracing Auslan and the Deaf community. For us, it’s not either/or. It’s both/and.
Language is everything. That’s why we’ve made the decision to raise Tucker bilingually with both Auslan and English. We want to give him the best chance at accessing language in whatever way works for him. Whether he hears a sound, sees a sign, or feels the vibration of our voices, what matters most is that he can understand and be understood. That he can connect with people and the world around him.
We know bilingualism won’t always be simple. There’s a lot to consider: language exposure, the learning curve for us as parents, the resources, the systems, the support. Some days it feels exciting. Others, overwhelming. But we also know language holds the power to shape identity, create belonging, and open doors, and we want all of that for Tucker in both the hearing and Deaf communities.
Like with everything on this journey, we’ve tried to listen and learn as much as we can. We’ve been diving deep into research around bilingual parenting for Deaf children, and what we’ve found has only strengthened our decision. The evidence is clear: early access to both a signed and spoken language gives Deaf children with cochlear implants the best chance at strong cognitive, social, and emotional development. Bilingualism supports better language outcomes, broader communication skills, and a stronger sense of identity.
I’ve binge-listened to the Love & Language podcast and inhaled every post from Raising Bilinguals, while Tyler has been following the stories, strategies, and wisdom shared by the Deaf community. Every conversation, every resource, every lived experience has helped shape our thinking. Evidence-based parenting at its best!
We’re still at the beginning. Tucker is still a baby and just like him, our understanding, approach, and decisions will grow and change over time. Raising a bilingual child, especially one with hearing loss, is complex and deeply personal. There’s no one-size-fits-all. We’re learning as we go.
But even now, it feels like the start of something really special – not just for Tucker, but for all of us.
If you’re walking a similar path, we’d love to hear from you. Whether you’ve been on this journey for years or you’re just starting out like us, your insights, experiences, and recommendations are welcome. What books, videos, apps, support groups, or Deaf community spaces helped you? We’re all ears (and eyes!).
Thanks for being here with us.
Here’s to building a world full of love, language, and belonging,
Tyler and Corrie


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