Lend Me Your Ear

A letter to young ones with microtia/atresia, 

the parents of those children, 

doctors, 

 & 

to anyone else this might apply

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     If you have microtia-atresia, it's not the end of the world. I know because I was born with it, too. Your ear might look a little different than your brothers & sisters, your friends, and your moms and dads. But I've learned over the years to embrace the fact that I'm different. No, seriously, I mean really weird. Have you read my previous posts? 
     Ear or no ear, hearing or no hearing, my personality and my life experiences are what really connect me to those around me. I endured teasing when I was growing up. I feel like it was a lot, but I don't know. Doesn't everyone have some kind of trauma during childhood? Everybody gets teased as a kid, and it is damn tough. You're going to come home crying some days because someone teased you about your ear. You'll come home crying some days, too, because someone teased you about your hairstyle or some crazy pants you thought were cool, or that time you had awful stomach cramps and had no choice but to go in the locker room bathroom where everyone could smell it, then they told everyone else in the 6th grade class, so when you walked into your next class late everyone snickered at you.*
     Your parents may be convinced (through the concern and conviction of your doctors) that, by giving you a "real" ear, you will be so much happier and much more social and have so many friends, and you'll you be so much better off. Your parents will probably be talked into sending you through several surgeries, just to make you look "normal".  The surgeries wouldn't even help you hear again, because your ears were missing too many components to simply drill a hole in your head. 
     All those visits to specialists, all the long wait times in the waiting rooms, all the blood tests, all the skin and rib grafts, countless tests of your hearing, countless measurements of your head and ear shape...
     You'll meet nurses who are nice and nurses who will forget that you are just a little kid and your mom and dad couldn't spend the night that night and you were scared and alone. 
     You'll meet nurses that will lie to your face when you ask if you are getting a shot soon, and then tell you no and she will rush at you with a giant needle and you might start screaming because you were so surprised by the lie and just wanted to know what was happening. You'll fight her off because it doesn't look like an ordinary needle. You might get strapped down in a Velcro body suit so you can't move but all you wanted to know was what was happening. The needle will hurt. 
     You'll meet lots of other kids - some with microtia - but you'll also meet some kids who just had brain surgery or they're dealing with leukemia and some of them will flat-out tell you they are dying, a concept difficult to grasp so young... Some of those kids will be nice to you. Some of them will be mean to you, and you won't understand why. 
     Then there's post-surgery, where you won't be able to play outside with your friends for a long time until your doctors say it's okay. Even then you still will have to be careful, though, because of the giant bandage wrapped around your head, so you basically stand around and watch your friends play on the monkey bars without you. 
     You'll have to answer countless questions from your friends and family, being put on display at company holiday parties or family gatherings where your dads or moms will show everyone their new "purchase" that sits smack-dab on your head. 
     You'll probably have to have more than one surgery, too. So the pain, the ointments, and the sutures - and so many scars - become all too familiar by the time you are 10 years old. 
     You'll find that any pair of glasses won't fit right. After the eyeglass specialist adjusts your new glasses for the millionth time, you think forget it and say it feels right. 
     You'll get used to walking on a certain side so you can hear your friend more clearly. Some people will forget you can't hear but try not to be mad at them. 
     You'll get used to sitting at a certain seat during dinner so you can hear everyone. Sometimes you'll feel left out because there is so much noise. You try to read lips but sometimes you won't understand. By the time you're in your thirties, those habits will become second nature. 
     
     You'll try new things because you read a lot and want to create and explore. You might really love astronomy and spend time with your family outside watching meteor showers. No traffic, no noise, and a sky full of incredible bursts of light. If you turn your head for a moment, you might miss it! 

     You might really love music and someday make it your job. 
     
     Your life won't be horrible and a "normal" ear will make no difference. You'll find that you will be surrounded by those you love, and those who love you. 
     Sometimes you'll feel lonely because of your hearing differences and sometimes people won't understand, but most of the time you're okay with who you are and you'll try to live life and you'll try to create and you'll try to make a difference in this world because you'll have been humbled by your miracle roller-coaster of a journey. 


* True Story