This is What an Infant Hearing Test Looks Like

First, an important note: Lucia is totally fine.  COMPLETELY fine.  She is healthy, and she is comfortable.  The picture below is from her routine hearing screening.

If you have a baby, she probably got this screening, too.  In Massachusetts, it is required by law.  Most babies are born in hospitals, and they get their hearing test behind the velvet curtain.  I was vaguely aware that Elsie had her hearing checked.  At some point, a nurse came in and told me, "Elsie passed her hearing screening," and I thought, "Oh good.  They must have banged some pots and pans together and observed whether or not she startled."  And went back to awkwardly trying to stuff my breast in Elsie's mouth and wondering if they were really going to let someone as inexperienced as me take a newborn home in 48 hours.

In fact, the hearing screening is far more high-tech than I had imagined! I recently got to see it for myself.

Because Lucia was born at home, there was no nurse to whisk her away for her hearing test.  I was given stern documentation and orders to make my own appointment with an audiologist at one of a very small handful of hospitals in the state. 

Elsie was beyond disappointed that she was not invited.

"It's not that much fun, Elsie.  They're just going to put some stickers on Lucia's head and make some measurements."  I explained, hoping to take some of the shine off of the event.

"STICKERS!?"  Oops.  I forgot how much kids love stickers.

"Not hearts or stars or princess stickers.  Nothing pink or purple or sparkly.  Just plain squares or circles." 

"SQUARES!?  CIRCLES!?  I want to see!"

In the end, I got her off to school by promising that I'd take a picture and show her later.  

The test was held in a soundproof booth.  I loved the woman running it.  I was plotting transferring my children over to her care until I realized that she was an audiologist, not a pediatrician.  She set me up in a rocking chair, applied the storied stickers to Lucia's head, lowered the lights, and encouraged me to nurse her to sleep, which was easy.  The audiologist returned and hooked Lucia up to wires, then placed tiny earphones in her little baby ears. 

She woke up!  We ended up spending an hour or so, putting her to sleep, then waking her up again with the gear, before she finally slept through the transition.  The baby has to be asleep for the test.  The audiologist plays a tone into one ear, and watches the brain wave output.  Then she repeats the simple process on the other ear.  Quick, easy, and noninvasive.

Lucia passed her test with flying colors.  If she hadn't, the audiologist informed me, they could make her hearing aides right away, and start her on some sort of therapy.  With such early intervention, her speech and learning would develop normally, giving her a huge advantage over hard-of-hearing children of the past. 

It was such an interesting test, and it highlighted one of the major differences between the hospital and the home birth experiences.  When the baby is born at home, so much of the healthcare is put into the hands of the parents.  There's more responsibility to make these appointments and attend, which can be inconvenient.  But there is also more transparency, and, I thought, sipping my tea and rocking my baby to sleep under the mood lighting in the sound-proof booth, everything seems a little softer and a little gentler.