Every morning I wake to Kerianna patting me gently on the shoulder, ready to start her day. She always has on a sweet smile. Her hands fly as she tells me she's ready to start her day. Her little fingers flutter as she explains what she wishes to have for breakfast. I know, in her own way, she will hear the birds sing, she will hear rain falling on leaves, she will hear me call her name. In her own way she will hear, even though she is Deaf.

Kerianna wasn't always Deaf. For three years, she enjoyed life like any other "normal" child. She laughed at things her father said, she responded to me calling her name, she argued with her friend over which clothes to put on their dolls. She loved sitting in the window seat of the back room and listening to the birds singing. And on rainy days, her father and I would join her as we watched the storm through the panes of glass. But something was coming. Something I could never have prepared myself for.

We were on our way home from church one afternoon. I was driving because I can't stand being a passenger. I remember going through the green light. I remember hearing tires squealing, and then, darkness. I don't remember the impact at all.

The next thing I knew, I was looking up at a flat white ceiling. My mum was holding my hand, crying over me. My father was standing next to her, blinking rapidly. They both started when I opened my eyes. Both tried to hug me without disturbing my body. There was tubing in my nose and down my throat, wires in my arms. I tried to ask where Davet and Kerianna were, but the tubing hindered my voice. I began to panic. I struggled to be free of the wires and tubing but my father held me down. He tried to tell me what had happened but he was too over come with emotions. The doctor came in and administered a drug that sent me back into sweet darkness.

I dreamed Davet was holding me. I dreamed Kerianna was telling me that everything would be okay. I dreamed of a place so beautiful that it hurt my eyes to look. Everything was slightly out of focus, but I could feel warmth on my cheeks. I could hear water bubbling somewhere close. And then, I was brought back to reality. By pain.

Pain is what I have endured these past three years. One person's reckless decision caused my family and me a life time of pain. That person's actions cost Davet his life and Kerianna her hearing. Pain is what I went through in recovery. Pain is what I saw on my mother's face every time she looked at Kerianna. Pain is what I felt every time someone expressed their sadness over Kerianna's condition. It wasn't pain in knowing she was Deaf; it was the pain of knowing that people couldn't except Kerianna for who she now was.

How many times people have come to me asking why I have not "done" something about Kerianna's deafness? They ask why I do not go through with the operation to allow her to be able to hear again. Davet and I had never been rich. And after the accident, I was left with doctor and hospital bills. My parents and Davet's parents offered to pay for the operation. But I looked at Kerianna's deafness differently. If your child had darker or lighter skin then you liked, would you put that child through an operation to have it's skin removed and replaced with a color of your choice? Kerianna's deafness wasn't our choice, but I felt that it was now part of her.

Once both of our physical recovery was as complete as it was going to get at that time, I enrolled Kerianna in programs with other Deaf children, where Sign language played a key role in the children's education. While going back to school to try and earn my degree, I signed up for American Sign Language 1 taught by Kimberly Holbrooke. Kimberly was my main support during that time. She understood why I did not go through with the operation and also helped me to be able to better communicate with my daughter.

My second, third and fourth Sign classs were taught by Dana Rosemont, whom was born Deaf. Her mother contracted Rubella when she was three or four months pregnant, resulting in Dana being born deaf. Sometimes, I brought Kerianna to class with me and I watched as she and Dana interacted with each other. How I envied Dana's ability to communicate with my daughter better than I could. I pushed myself harder in my studies to be able to reach that level of communication.

Dana and Kim became my lights in utter darkness. They both helped me in so many ways. Not only in being able to speak with Kerianna but also in being understanding of the Deaf culture, the community and it's people. Dana understood my frustration at not being able to communicate with my daughter as freely as I would've liked. She understood my eagerness to learn the language and helped me to reach goals that I had set up for myself. Dana's children, William and Melodee became fast friends with Kerianna. They both were hearing but knew how to sign. How I loved watching them play together, as their hands and fingers moved in speech. I wanted Kerianna to be able to have friends to play with just as she had the first three years of her life.

The first few months after the accident were very hard on Kerianna and myself. We were not just trying to heal physically, but also mentally and spiritually. After the accident, many of Kerianna's friends began to drift away. Kerianna couldn't understand this and many a time she would fall into angry tantrums. How I wished I could hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. I wanted her to be happy. I would've traded places with her without pause. I had already lived my life thus far being able to hear, but Kerianna had a whole world of things to still experience and hear.

How I wish Davet was here with me, to hold my hand, to reassure me that everything would be all right. How I miss him. For ten years we laughed together, cried together, loved together. For seven years we tried desperately to become pregnant. I will never forget the look on Davet's face when I told him Kerianna was on the way. My heart still trembles as I remember the look on his face right before he kissed me breathless. I remember how terrified Davet was the first time he held Kerianna. He was so afraid he would drop her or do something to hurt her. Oh, but how he doted on her as she grew. She followed him everywhere, asking him a million questions a minute, with him answering them patiently.

As I am writing this, Kerianna is hovering at my side, waiting impatiently for me to finish. We're meeting up with Dana, William and Melodee at the park this afternoon and Kerianna is anxious to get out into the sun. As I close, I look down into Kerianna's bright brown eyes and see hope, happiness but most of all I see a bright future for my daughter. One where she will exceed all expectations and accomplish goals that only she can set and meet.

As is becoming tradition for me, there is a story "poster" if you want to call it that. Click on my profile link and then my forums. I have it posted there. Let me know what you think. Thanks again for reading!

Angel