Yesterday I got hearing aids.

A little more than 20 years ago I had my hearing tested and discovered that I had hearing loss due to what was described to me as hormonal hearing loss.  This news triggered feelings of worthlessness and I remember wondering who would ever love me with this loss.  I didn’t understand it at the time, but growing up as an adopted person I didn’t have an inherent sense of value and believed that I had to perform and be perfect to be loved and accepted.  Understanding of my value and worth would come years later, and even still I’m working to untie the untruths of my adoption and how it plays into my existence.

My hearing loss required surgery, which I did a few months after getting married.  I was told that the surgery results would ‘last’ for about 15+ years.  The pandemic with all the concerns about staying alive, masking, and home-schooling my children superseded any need to test my hearing over the past few years.  

Fast forward to last fall when I got my hearing tested again and learned that my hearing loss would benefit from hearing aids.  Hearing aids conjure up images of my grandmother and the huge devices she had in her ears that were constantly squeaking.  Hearing aids meant you were old and old meant you had little value, at least in our society.

I barely spoke about my appointment, even with my family.  I felt a huge sense of embarrassment and shame– the old defect not holding up her end of the deal to be perfect.  At the same time, I grew frustrated in group settings when I had no clue what someone was saying because the background noise was too much for me to be a part of the conversation.   That, combined with reading articles that hearing loss can lead to dementia spurred me to make an appointment.

At that first appointment, I tried the different options and was told that our insurance plan fully covered the best hearing aids.  The cost would have been an easy excuse to opt out, but that was now off the table.  My fitting appointment was scheduled for yesterday, a few months after testing the options.  I was tired walking in, partly because we are coming back from spring break, and getting into the school routine is always tough for our family.  Also, in the time between the first appointment in January and yesterday, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer and passed away.   The past few months have been an emotional minefield and we are still walking around in a fog, wondering what just happened to our family.   Hearing aids are a minor inconvenience compared to the storm we just weathered. 

I’m only a day into using my hearing aids and can report that I don’t have to listen to the TV at such a high volume and can now hear my slippers scuffing across the floor.  The real test will be when I’m out socially or among the soft talkers.   They are taking some getting used to – my ears are itchy after a few hours of them in my ears, but I’m sure that will change with time. 

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having mixed feelings.  Shame wants to rear its head, but a sense of acceptance is also present. If unraveling my adoption journey has taught me anything is that facing the truth, while scary, is much easier than trying to avoid it.