She's a SUPERSTAR!

I never could have imagined how much progress Casha would make in such a short time. She has been activated for only ten days and already she is making more sounds than one could imagine, she heard the microwave beep for the first time, she talks on the phone, she dances to the real music (not just the music in her head;-), and she sings along with it. So often, when Casha hears something, the look in her eyes is enough to knock you over. There is rarely a dry eye around her. She's trying so hard to communicate verbally and to listen to everything around her. It's truly amazing.

Someone once asked me, prior to Casha's surgery, why we were doing this and did we think it was worth it? Well, you can just stick it where the sun don't shine. Just look at her go!

Three in ONE DAY!

I got three stupid things in one day!

This, by a creepy guy at the grocery store after seeing Casha's implant, "Is she on the phone?"
The cashier at the same grocery store said, "Is she listening to music an an mp3 player?"

Last but certainly not least, a mom at the bookstore said, "Oh! I just love her American Idol thing!"
I could not, for the life of me, figure out what she was talking about. She must have sensed my confusion after seeing the "duh" look on my face because she then says,"Her microphone."
I was still a little confused but then realized that she was trying to ask me what was on Casha's head and used a wireless mic to break the ice. LOL

I understand that people do not know what is stuck to the side of Casha's head but do they have to make things up? Must they ask such ridiculous questions just to break the ice? Just say, "What is that on your little girls head???" Is that so hard?

Welcome to Holland by Emily Perl Kingsley

WELCOME TO HOLLAND
byEmily Perl Kingsley.
c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

No one ever told me that

I would be this tired.
I would loathe hearing aids and earmolds.
I would know so much about the inner workings of the ear.
I would know what MAPping is. (MAP doesn't stand for a thing so why the capital letters, huh?)
I would fight to the death for my child to have a "right" to hear me say I love you.
I would cry the first time Casha heard the Beatles.
A car ride could be so horribly painful as with a deaf three week old who cannot be soothed by her mommy's voice.
I would so greatly appreciate my other children having been able to talk to their grandparents on the phone.
I'd be too busy and consumed to care that I still don't have my body back.
I'd actually go three months between hair cuts, and not care.
My passion for shoes would die in an instant.
I'd pay $300 for a MAGNET!
I'd let my kid run around with said magnet attached to her head as if it were a decorative hair piece.
I'd fall so hard for "Mommy Juice".
I would fight to make a difference.
I would buy a 100 pack of AAA's and not think it were overkill.
I would forget to renew my magazine subscriptions.
I wouldn't care.
I'd lose touch with my friends.
I'd be heartbroken and gleefully ecstatic, at the same time.
I'd be writing something like this.