The other night I posted the following on my Facebook:
Things that make my heart break:
Matt, "Mommy take that make up off, people will laugh at you like they do with my little ear."
Me, "Who laughs at you?"
Matt, "It's ok Mama, they just don't know how to ask."
Matt, "Mommy take that make up off, people will laugh at you like they do with my little ear."
Me, "Who laughs at you?"
Matt, "It's ok Mama, they just don't know how to ask."
And I got asked by other parent why we didn't just opt for Matthew to get reconstructive surgery for his ear to spare him and us the burden of having to endure having to explain repeatedly "what happened to his ear."
We made a decision early in his life that we would first see how Matthew did with his therapy and how he dealt with his hearing loss as he grew older. By the time he reached kindergarten, we revisited the idea of perhaps doing the reconstructive surgery to "save" him from being teased by peers but then decided against and again decided to wait to see how the year went.
Matthew flourished in his first year in elementary school, and yes some kids asked out of innocent curiosity as to how his ear came about. Kids would ask, he'd answer, then it was over. It happened once in his class and his teacher was so amazing in dealing with it. His friends asked what was wrong with his ear, another friend defended him and told the teacher that he was being bullied, and the teacher gathered the children together and gave the children a story that I think will stick with me forever. She told the children that when Matthew was in my tummy, he loved listening to my heartbeat so much that he leaned so close to it that his ear closed and locked in the sounds of beats forever. I'm not gonna lie, when his teacher told me this while I picked him up at the school's valet, I teared up. And as I drove away, while staring back at my precious child through the rear view mirror, I cried even harder.
In another instance, Matthew's friend was talking to him but towards his "little ear," Matthew stopped him said, "I can't hear you because I don't have an ear drum in my little ear," and turned his head to continue with his conversation. Again, another tearful proud moment when his teacher told me this. I was so proud of him for advocating for himself and not getting so frustrated he couldn't think of his options to cope.
We never treated Matthew any differently than we did with Brandon and Daniel. We praised him, loved him, and disciplined him like we did with any of our other sons. And we never made his condition a big part of who he was, is, and ever will be. We always felt that if we kept treating him like he was different, he would grow up to feel that he was too different and inadequate. We didn't want him to grow up thinking he couldn't do anything that other children could, or that because of the way he looks he's less appealing. We wanted him to grow up knowing that regardless of his appearance, he will be defined in how he treats others, how he copes with invasive questions, and how he perceives himself. And because of this, we felt that he had the maturity and the strength to know that questions like that I posted on Facebook, are just that....questions.
So I guess my answer to that parent as to why we made the decision that we did in regards to reconstructive surgery would be that it was a personal choice to do so. We felt strongly that Matthew was not defined by his Microtia and therefore felt that there was no need to take away a huge chunk of his childhood for major surgery that would only make him feel like he wasn't perfect already. Everyone who matters in his life already knows what we know, that this fun loving, adorable, witty, and energetic child could not be bogged down by a physical abnormality, that his personality was so enormous that most people... the people who mattered in his life, sometimes forgot that some people in our society would think that something was "wrong" with him, so much so that he should "fix" it.
But if you ask Matthew what happened with your ear? He'll be happy you asked and 9 times out of 10 he'll tell you that our dog bit it off - which obviously isn't true, but what a silly story you'll get for asking our bright child such a silly question.
