I was 18 years old and fresh out of high school when I became a mother. I was still learning how to navigate adulthood when, the day after my son was born, a nurse arrived to perform his newborn hearing screening.
He did not pass.
A retest was scheduled for two weeks later, but I couldn't absorb what was happening. I was certain it had to be a mistake. At his first appointment with the audiologist, he was tested again — and failed again. That was the day I heard the words no new mother is prepared to hear: your son has profound, severe hearing loss.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to feel.
At eight months old, he was fitted with hearing aids, but his hearing loss was so severe that they were simply not enough. At one year old, my baby underwent surgery for his first cochlear implant. Our family traveled to New Orleans for the procedure; a year later, he received his second implant. They cut his hair. For weeks after surgery, his little head was wrapped in bandages.
It was heartbreaking. He was my first child, and I had no idea what I was doing.
For a long time, I lived in denial. Even after the implants, he refused to wear them. But gradually, he adapted. He began speech therapy. He learned sign language. He has been resilient since the day he was born — he never allowed any of it to define him.
And I worried — as any mother would, and then some. Would he be all right? Would he learn to speak? Would other children accept him, or would he be singled out for being different? When your child's difference is visible to the world, the worry never fully leaves you.
By fourth grade, he had transitioned into mainstream classrooms alongside his peers — because he was thriving.
Today, he is a high school freshman. He drives. He plays bass drum and cymbals in the marching band, feeling every beat through the music. He is, in every way that matters, a regular kid — determined, confident, and flourishing.
The journey was not easy. But by the grace of God, we made it this far.
Why I'm telling you this
If you are the mother sitting where I once sat — frightened, overwhelmed, quietly wondering whether you somehow caused this — I want you to hear me:
That is why this platform exists. When I was 18 and searching for answers, there was nothing like it — no books featuring children like mine, no roadmap, no voice saying, "I have stood where you are standing." So I am building what I once needed: honest resources, real stories, and books that let our children see themselves — beginning with TJ's Super Ears, inspired by my very own superstar.
Welcome. You are in exactly the right place. 💛