As seven-year-old twins Ashe and Jett’s cochlear implants were switched on, mum Danielle Cooper watched something incredible quietly unfold. Everyday sounds most people take for granted, like whispers or wind rustling through the trees, were loud and clear, and for the first time in their little lives, the boys had full access to sound.
“When their cochlear implants are on, we tell them they can hear everything – even the stars twinkling,” smiles mum Danielle, 34.
Despite no history of multiples in the family, Coromandel-based architectural designer Danielle always dreamed of having twins.
“Elated would be an understatement,” she beams of her reaction when she found out at the first ultrasound.
With a smooth pregnancy and planned induction just shy of 37 weeks, nothing hinted at what was ahead.
A surprising discovery at newborn screening
“We didn’t know anything about hearing loss until the newborn hearing screening when they noticed something,” she recalls.
“But even then, they said, ‘Don’t worry, it could be fluid in the ears from the induction.’”
A follow-up appointment confirmed that both boys had moderate hearing loss. Danielle remembers she and electrical technician husband Oli, 36, felt relatively calm.
“I thought, ‘It’s fine, I can deal with this, otherwise they’re really healthy and there are no other development concerns.’”
Adjusting to hearing aids and specialists
At three months old, the boys were fitted with hearing aids and life quickly got a lot busier with specialists and appointments.
Danielle tells, “Each year, we were finding their hearing was dipping in testing and it was looking like one day it would be a profound hearing loss or fully deaf. But we don’t use that term at home.”
In the Cooper household, words matter.
“The boys are not at all defined by it – they refer to it as their superpowers,” says Danielle.
“I make it sound casual, but it has been a lot of work, so much speech and language therapy. “They do know they can’t hear, but they’ve just never used the word ‘deaf’ or ‘disability’ and more than anything, my heart wants these boys to have every experience they can.”
Facing cochlear implant surgery
When the time came for the boys to undergo cochlear implant surgery last year, Danielle admits, “It did feel scary. But as quick as we thought that, we were surrounded by support from The Hearing House and the surgeon. So concerns were there, but not for very long.”
The Hearing House offers pre and post-op cochlear implant support services and programmes in the northern region from Taupō to Cape Reinga.
“It’s almost like visiting extended family when you go there,” Danielle smiles.
How cochlear implants work
Rather than amplifying sound like a hearing aid, a cochlear implant bypasses the damaged parts of the inner ear and sends electrical signals directly to the auditory nerve, which the brain interprets as sound.
“The operation took four hours and I didn’t really know what I was in for,” says Danielle.
“Ashe came out first, really sick from anaesthetic. It had funnelled into his jawline, so he looked paralysed in his face and that scared me, but it was just a process of it wearing off.”
The next day, to Danielle’s immense relief, Jett’s experience was the opposite as he woke up happy and ready to play. It’s been life-changing for the whole family. Danielle explains, “We don’t have to wonder every day about their hearing because eventually hearing aids can’t be turned up any more.
Hearing for life
“Now they have cochlear implants, this is them for life, they have the ability to hear forever.”
Delighted, she tells the Weekly, now, most people would never be able to tell everything her boys have been through.
“Full noise is how we refer to those two,” she laughs.
“They are loud and boisterous, love all things wheels and Minecraft. They love to be outdoors and love their family.”
Ambassadors for change
Ashe and Jett are The Hearing House ambassadors for Loud Shirt Day this year, a trans-Tasman campaign to support children and families living with hearing differences. Watching her sons racing around, laughing and chatting, Danielle, who also runs charity Kiwis Together, helping connect New Zealanders with funding, couldn’t be prouder.
“Now my hopes and dreams are to see the boys as adults, who are not defined by any hearing loss and do whatever they want, however they want,” she enthuses.
“And I would love for them to be pillars of support or ambassadors for the journey for others going through the same.”
To donate or find out more, visit loudshirtday.org
