Using Prince Phillip as Justification for Surgery

Sitting with both girls on my lap was uncomfortably snug. 

It was storytime before bed, and we were reading Sleeping Beauty, the Disney version, in the light of the closet bulb.  Lauren seemed to be following along mostly well, as usual. 

Even though she's had some trouble hearing for the past several months, it's not severe.  It only manifests itself in some situations, of which I can never be certain.  Something in the atmosphere or her nasal congestion or the surrounding noise makes her squint and question.  She'll say, "What d'jou say, mama?  Say it louder."  And then as I do, she'll watch my mouth to see what I'm saying. 

Nobody else seemed to notice, but I followed my hunch anyway.  I scheduled a hearing test, which confirmed my worries: she's having some hearing loss.  Follow-up appointments happened, and now we're preparing for tubes this week, which will hopefully cure the problem.  (I mentioned the tubes several days ago...yes, I'm still dwelling.)

As we read about Prince Phillip meeting the singing princess in the forest, Lauren stopped me. 

"Why is his name Prince Pull-up?"  Being three, she often mispronounces things -- sometimes I correct her, and sometimes I let it be, just to soak up her cuteness. 

This time, I smiled and answered with his correct name: Phillip.  Again, she wasn't sure.  "Prince Full-up?" 

I bent down and kissed her head before giggling out a response.  "Never mind, sweetie, it doesn't matter."

But Mia caught my eye, and she was laughing like we do when Lauren is being silly on purpose.  When she does something completely toddlerish and hilarious, we laugh, and this seemed similar at first.  We laughed together for a second or two before I noticed Lauren's face again.

She didn't get the joke.  She looked back and forth between us, not upset, just confused.  "Mia, why are you laughing at me?" she asked. 

I don't know if this was another cute mispronunciation, or a manifestation of the hearing difficulties, but it felt like the latter.  I snuffed out the laughter, reassured Lauren (partly by redirecting her attention...), and went on with the story.  Later, I told Mia that we need to be more careful with our laughter -- pay attention to how it might make somebody feel about themselves -- but I still felt awful.

My darling Lauren has been going through quite some time in her life without hearing the world as it really is around her.  Is her world muffled?  Garbled?  Just confusing?  Is this part of her shyness?  Not being able to understand the words someone speaks to her would definitely make her feel uncertain...

I want her world to be clear and simple in so many ways, and at least in this one way -- the hearing way -- we might be able to make that happen.  It's worth a little bit of worrisome (yet relatively common and safe) surgery if it means my sweet girl will be able to hear.

I'm all hopeful expectation.  Or, mostly hopeful expectation.  There's still a measure of worry in there, because it's surgery on my baby with anaesthesia.  She's three, and she'll know that she's in a weird place, with strange people, and no mother to hold her hand before she goes under.  (So maybe my measure of worry, here, is quite large.  Prayers, if you have any to spare, would be appreciated.)

But if it means she'll be able to tell the difference between a Pull-up and a Phillip, I'm on board.

I wonder what her world will sound like in a few days....