Reprise: The Speech Banana
Originally posted in June 2006.
Wonderboy’s hearing loss came as a shock to us. Sure, we knew he’d failed the newborn hearing test. Three times. But those rounds of testing were administered in the NICU where there is always a humming and beeping of background noise, and the tech had told us that ambient noise could skew the test results. We had more pressing things to worry about: his (minor) heart defect; his recovery from omphalocele repair surgery; the genetic testing necessary to determine whether he had a potentially serious chromosomal syndrome; the fact that he was going home on oxygen. At least he was going home, and we tucked the hearing-test business to the back of our minds and focused on the immediate business of keeping him alive.
Every month the health department sent us a letter reminding us to have the hearing screen repeated. Sure thing, we said, just as soon as things slow down a bit. We were constantly having to take him to some specialist or another. The chromosome study came back negative: his medical issues were not due to a genetic syndrome. He was just one of those babies for whom something goes slightly awry early on in utero, resulting in a number of physical abnormalities down the line. An MRI had shown brain abnormality, but what its effects would be, no one could say: time will tell, they said. (They are still saying that.) He had extremely high muscle tone (hypertonia) and could not stretch out his arms and legs very far. His fists were tightly clenched. He started physical therapy at four months of age. He required emergency surgery to repair a double hernia with incarcerated bowel. The cardiologist was still keeping a close eye on his heart. The hearing test would just have to wait.
Besides, we told ourselves, we know he isn’t deaf. He startled to loud noises. Of all the things there were to worry about, we really didn’t think hearing loss was one of them.
But by six months, we had suspicions. He wasn’t babbling. He didn’t turn his head at the sound of my voice, lighting up with recognition before even seeing me, as our other children had. We took him back for another hearing screen.
He failed.
The audiologist said something about a “mild” hearing loss, and I thought that didn’t sound too bad. “Oh, no,” she told me, hastening to set me straight. “It isn’t like a ‘mild’ fever. ANY hearing loss is serious. Most speech sounds fall at the bottom of the scale, so if you have any hearing loss at all, you’re going to have trouble with speech.”
As it turned out, Wonderboy’s loss was a bit more serious than the audiologist first thought. Further testing placed him at the “moderate” level on the scale of mild—moderate—severe—profound. Unaided, Wonderboy’s ears can’t detect sounds softer than 50 decibels. Most speech sounds fall in the 20-decibel-or-lower range. Our little guy can hear vowel sounds, the louder middles of words, but few of the consonants that shape sound into speech. For Wonderboy, people probably sound a lot like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Wah-WAH-wah-wah-waahh-wah. We learned about the speech banana: the area on a graph that shows where speech sounds fall in the decibel and frequency ranges. Wonderboy can’t hear sounds above the horizontal 50 line on that chart.
(More or less. He has a sloping loss which is slightly better at the lower frequencies.)
By his first birthday he was wearing hearing aids, and what a huge difference we could see! Aided, he tests around the 20-decibel range. He hears and understands a great deal of what we say. He is two and a half years old now, and he is finally beginning to add some consonant sounds to his verbal speech. Daddy used to be “Ah-ee” and now he is “Gaggy.” (This cracks me up. You can get a lot of mileage out of calling your husband Gag.) Grandpa is Amp-Ha. Wonderboy’s baby sister is “Gay-gee.” As you can see, he doesn’t have a B sound yet. His M is perfect, though; I have been Mommy, clear as a bell, for over a year.
But Wonderboy’s verbal speech is only part of the picture. His actual vocabulary is enormous, thanks to sign language. We are huge fans of the Signing Time DVDs. He uses a combination of sign and speech; we all do. Although it appears he will be primarily a verbal person as he gets older, sign language will always be an important second language for him. Hearing aids, incredible as the technology is nowadays, don’t do you any good at the swimming pool. Just for instance.
Hard of hearing. It used to be a phrase that conjured up in my mind the image of a grizzled old man with an ear trumpet. What? What’d ye say? Speak up, lad! (Apparently he is a grizzled old Scotsman.) Now it applies to my son. Words pop up on a TV screen, “closed captioned for the deaf and hard of hearing,” and I’ll give a little mental jump: Oh! That means Wonderboy!
Watching our children learn to speak is one of the great delights of parenthood. We mothers tend to collect their funny pronunciations, their experimentation with the meanings of words. This time around, my joy has been doubled, for I get to see communication unfold in two languages. His funny little toddler signs are just as endearing as any “helidopter” or “oapymeal” ever uttered by a two-year-old. (“Oapymeal” was one of Jane’s. It meant oatmeal. I served it often just to hear her say it.)
There are some links to American Sign Language resources in the sidebar of my old site. (I’ll set up a page here soon as I get a chance.) I can’t say enough about the wonders and benefits of ASL, not just for deaf and hard of hearing children, but for all babies and toddlers, especially those with any type of speech delay. ASL is a beautiful, nuanced language, a visual poetry. I count myself privileged to have been put in the way of learning it. Jane is determined to certify as an interpreter someday, and I have to admit I’m a little jealous. I wish I’d learned at her age.
Wonderboy makes a fist and touches a knuckle to his cheek, wiggling the hand. “Ah-hul!” he shouts. Apple, in two languages. The speech banana? We’ll get there, one way or another.
*Audiogram image courtesy of GoHear.org.
Tags: special needs children, American Sign Language, baby sign language, hard of hearing
JoVE says:
I only skimmed this this time but that paragraph above the diagram jumped out at me. Because my own experience was not like that. I got told that I have 20% hearing loss in one ear but that that is within the “normal range”. Kind of made me feel like maybe I was exaggerating how much that affects me. Glad to see a quote from another audiologist saying that any hearing loss has important effects.
On July 20, 2008 at 10:11 am
Prairie Rose says:
I’m a speech therapist, and work in early intervention with kids birth to three. I too love Signing Time (I love Baby Signing Time even more!) I assume he’s getting speech therapy too but if he’s not, I’d get it as soon as possible. The earlier he starts working on those sounds, the better the prognosis for clear speech. 🙂
On July 20, 2008 at 5:11 pm
Melissa Wiley says:
Oh yes, he’s getting speech therapy and has been for years. No worries! 🙂
On July 20, 2008 at 5:14 pm
Activities Coordinator says:
My son has auditory processing issues. He too was in speech therapy for years.
Oddly enough, he hears things things well above 0dB. (The audiologist who tested him at six pulled me in and said, “You’ve gotta see this!”) Fire trucks and movie theaters are no fun for him at all. We’ve learned to carry earplugs.
Good thing for him, both his mother and grandmother were speech therapists. (Well, technically, I still am one, but I’ve just got one client!)
Human hearing, like human speech, is such a complex process. It’s amazing any of us can hear or learn to talk at all, isn’t it?
On July 20, 2008 at 8:47 pm
Beck says:
My oldest child was diagnosed with a severe speech disorder at 3, I think, and has spent most of her childhood in speech therapy. She’s had her hearing tested several times, and so far she tests pretty much in the normal range, but she’s due for more testing in the fall.
And then my SECOND child was diagnosed with a minor speech disorder! We’re keeping a close eye – or ear, I guess – on The Baby’s speech development…
On July 21, 2008 at 8:01 am
Heather says:
Our third child was diagnosed with severe apraxia when he was two and a quarter. His expressive language was that of a 9mos old but his receptive language was HUGE- testing over 3yo at the time.
His expressive language exploded when he began speech therapy and learned more signs. We were all signing with him. 8 mos later his speech just took off and he began dropping the signs. He has very little memory of the time he spent signing everything he said. He was brilliant at it.
Now my daughter is so anxious to learn it and began last year. She is talented I think. She loves all things Helen Keller. I have to wonder if the deaf culture is in her future somewhere.
Thanks for sharing your Wonderboy’s story!
On July 21, 2008 at 5:39 pm
silvermine says:
Yea, my daughter had so much fluid in her ears that she couldn’t hear anything below 45 decibels as an infant. I knew something was up when she was always surprised when I came in the room….
Thankfully ear tubes cleared it out. I also credit by Very Loud Son for helping her hear noises even during her hard-of-hearing times. I’m really sure he’s one reason she talks so well (about to turn two). He Talks so loud and so piercingly she probably heard him just fine the whole time. (In fact, her first word was his name! So much for Mama…)
On July 21, 2008 at 6:18 pm
Dee Ann Fava says:
Melissa,
A friend linked me to your blog. I’m a former ASL interpreter and teacher at the Atlanta School for the Deaf, now homeschooling my own daughters. Your post was such a blessing to read. I wish you and Wonderboy well! You are so right, ASL is beautiful…and it’s just fun too! Looking forward to reading more…
On July 22, 2008 at 12:16 pm
Cindy says:
Hi Melissa,
I come across your site and read your post and reminded me of giving my son a hearing check up. My son is also part of the special needs children. He is 5 years old and we still haven’t give him a hearing check up. It is very stressful to teach children who have special needs, but when they do make progress it does make you feel so happy.
On November 12, 2010 at 3:37 pm