Sometimes there just aren't enough rocks...

You know that scene in Forrest Gump where Jenny and Forrest return to her childhood home and she begins to toss rocks at the house, breaking the windows. She does this to take a small amount of revenge on a father who sexually abused her and destroyed her life. After tossing several rocks, she collapses to the ground and cries. Forrest sums up the experience by saying, "I guess sometimes there just aren't enough rocks."
This is my feeling when it comes to the latest news on my new baby.

Little "Goober" failed his hearing test right after birth. My first child had the same issue, but passed his follow up hearing test with flying colors. I assumed, silly me, that Goober would be the same way. Imagine my dismay when the audiologist said in no uncertain terms, "he has severe to profound hearing loss and is a candidate for cochlear implants."

Toss rock #1.

So my child is deaf? Really? You have a baby and want that little person to be perfect, but here's the thing, it doesn't always work out that way.

Toss rock #2.

I know - it could be WAY worse. He could be missing limbs or blind or have cancer or a list of other atrocities that affect the young in the world. I know this, but those who say "it could be worse" aren't feeling the helplessness and anxiety I am about my little boy who may face surgery in a few months to allow him to hear his mother's voice. Let me at least be upset about this.

Toss rock #3.

SO the rocks are tossed. I haven't improved the situation and all I get is the slight satisfaction that comes with the mental release of writing down your unhappiness. I will now have to let my "mental Forrest Gump" pick me up, brush me off, and point out that there are never enough rocks. So I'll have to stop tossing them, and move on.

So now what? We have an appointment with Goober's pediatrician on Friday to go over the results of the test as the audiologist used words that I had to keep looking up. Then we have to go for a second opinion. Next is a series of hearing aid trials that will then lead to recommendations for the cochlear implants - these can be installed (like he's a car or something) by the time he's one. Studies show that, as we discovered this so early, he'll have a normal life with normal speech patterns and communication abilities. Until then though, it's going to be a long road. We'll have to learn signs to communicate with my baby. My oldest will be wonderful at this as he's already a big helper. My husband is also strong and right there ready to work at this. We can do this and will. Little Goober will be fine and it's just a bump along the way...

My only sadness as this journey starts...little Goober doesn't know the sound of his mommy's voice.

Where's a rock when you need one?