Pit in the Stomach

I can plan what I’m going to blog about “Oh, today, I’ll talk about the sleeping whirling dervish!  Or maybe I should update on the pets:  Duncan is sleeping in a box and Simba and Scarlett are playing; Sergio has come back from the brink of death!  Patches loves the office!!!  I’ll definitely put up a link to the mercury/autism story I’ve been waiting for (Thanks Kristen!), the one that finally and objectively criticizes Kennedy’s salon article. (Synopsis:  something may be going on, but it’s not likely to be mercury vaccines).”

But then I drop Conor off at daycare and decide to stop by the speech pathologist’s office to ask if we should be worried that Conor hasn’t said any new words consistently since Da and Do three months ago.  She gave us some exercises to help him start imitating us, and then she asked if we’d followed up on his hearing tests. 

“What?”

“Yes,” she said as she got the results.  “He failed his hearing test in his right ear.  It’s the OAE screening test and it’s very sensitive for picking up hearing in the ear.  And he failed it.”  He may not have hearing in his right ear. 

We saw the results and NOTHING on that page said anything as dire as that.  It said that we should have him rescreened, but there was no indication why nor the importance or severity of it. 

Holy Fuck.  I have a pit in my stomach the size of Angelina Jolie.  When does it stop?  When do you get to exhale?  Never?  Is this what parenthood is??  A lifelong series of stomach churning dips in the road? 

Thank GOD we have been going to a charity supported daycare where they have the resources to support therapists.  I’m taking Conor to the doctor today for his rescreening.  We may be at an audiologist next week, or maybe whatever the problem was has cleared up.  I don’t get a feeling that the latter is likely. 

9:14:08 AM