I am participating in 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes 2019 (all of my submissions can be found here).
Today’s prompt is: VOICE
I have friends whose daughter has had a breathing tube since she was born late last year. Having the breathing tube in means they can’t hear her voice.
She’s having surgery next month during which she’ll get a “speaking valve” that attaches to the breathing tube to enable her to vocalize.
Of course if it saved your child’s life, you would forgo hearing them cry or vocalize, but the mom has said on social media (because the baby has her own page — maybe that’s her way of having a voice) how badly she yearns to hear the baby’s voice.
I get that (as much as someone who hasn’t been in that situation can get it).
The voices of our loved ones matter.
When I was a summer missionary long, long ago, one of my peers had laryngitis and couldn’t talk. She asked me to talk to her family. I did, and relayed messages back and forth.
Why it didn’t occur to me that she would like to hear their voices I don’t know, but she looked pretty crestfallen when I hung up and hadn’t put the phone up to her ear so she could hear their voices (this was long before texting/facetiming/emailing were options — it was a bit of a production to make a long-distance call).
I read up a little bit about the valve that allows an infant with a breathing tube to speak, and it’s a bit complex. It involves more training for the baby’s caregivers (as if they haven’t had enough over almost a year of having a medically complex child).
But they won’t be crestfallen to hear her voice. Quite the opposite.
Wife of one, Mom of two, Friend of many. My pronouns are she/her/hers.
That moment is going to be so emotional for them all.
I know. They have heard her some (when the tube was out — I’m not positive how all that works) but I know they are anxiously awaiting more little-girl giggles.