The Language Lane

One year ago today, Tucker’s cochlear implants were switched on.

If you’d asked us then what the next year would look like, I don’t think we could’ve told you. We went from not knowing whether cochlear implants were even an option to surgery just four weeks later!

I’m sure our incredible team explained half of these things somewhere between the counselling sessions, surgeon appointments and information packs. When you’re trying to process your precious baby needing life altering surgery, your brain can only hold onto so much.

So, one year later, here are six things we wish we’d known.

1. It is NOT brain surgery.

Let’s start with the biggest one because it’s also the one that scared us the most.

The number of well-meaning people who made some comment about our baby having “brain surgery” made us question ourselves every step of the way. So let me say it louder for the people in the back: cochlear implant surgery is not brain surgery.

It is still surgery. There’ll be bandages. There’ll probably be some blood. There’ll definitely be swelling. Their ears will probably look a little… pointed for a few weeks (we called them Tucky’s pixie ears).

Within four to six weeks, the swelling settles, their ears stop sticking out, and you’ll wonder why you were ever worried.

2. Activation day isn’t the movie moment you’re expecting.

If social media has taught us anything, it’s that activation day is supposed to be this big, beautiful moment. The reality is, that’s not always the case. For us, Tucker was curious and that was about it.

From our understanding, that’s because the audiologist starts the sound really quietly. They didn’t want to overwhelm Tucker’s brain hearing sound again after three months without it.

While we didn’t get one big movie moment, we got hundreds of tiny ones instead! Watching him turn when you call his name, or when he hears your voice and knows exactly who it is. Those are the moments that were worth waiting for.

3. You’re going to feel like you’re drowning in appointments.

For a while, it feels relentless. Audiology. Speech therapy. Teacher of the Deaf. Physio. OT. Early intervention.

Just keep paddling. Without even noticing, the appointments spread out, life starts to feel a little more normal again, and one day you’ll realise you’ve made it through that first year stronger than you knew you could be.

We also know what a privilege it was that I was still on maternity leave. It meant we could throw ourselves into Tucker’s rehabilitation without trying to juggle work as well. Not every family gets that opportunity, and we’re incredibly grateful we did.

4. Go at your child’s pace.

This one might be unpopular.

Wear time matters, that’s obviously a given, but for us building a positive relationship with Tucker’s cochlear implants mattered just as much. If he showed us he was done, we had voice-off time. No forcing them back on just, “Let’s try again later.”

Did we hit every wear time target? Definitely not! Not by a long shot.

Would we do it the same way again? Absolutely.

The hours came eventually when Tucker was ready for them. We also recognised that the recommended wear time is based on the average age of implantation being 12 to 18 months. Tucker was six months old. He was literally napping for longer than they wanted him to be wearing them!

5. Talking all day is exhausting.

Nobody prepares you for just how much talking and signing you’re about to do. Narrate your day, describe what you’re doing, expand on their sounds, read another book, sing another song. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Some days I genuinely felt like I was a sports commentator for my own life.

It’s especially exhausting when they’re not giving much back yet. So if you need a break, let someone else help. Our Toniebox has earned its place in this house. And yes, Ms Rachel definitely deserves honorary membership on Tucker’s therapy team.

6. Keep living.

This is probably the most important one!

It’s so easy to get caught up in the rehabilitation that you forget you’re still their parents. Somewhere along the way, I realised I’d started looking at every moment through a therapy lens. Should I narrate this? Is this a listening opportunity? Have I signed enough today? But Tucker already has therapists, what he needs from me is his mum.

It’s okay to take the early intervention hat off. Get out of the perfect listening environment you’ve created in your house. Go to the park. Splash in puddles. Have a cuddle with the processors off.

Trust the professionals around you, they really are incredible, and don’t forget to trust yourself, too. Because at the end of the day, your child doesn’t just need therapy.

They need you.