‘I remember that. What about it?’
‘I never told you before, but I remember my heart murmured when I read the daughter was deaf, then I prayed this wouldn’t happen to our children. Looking back now I feel some kind premonition. I should taken more notice when Sophie wasn’t turning for her name.’ He said in his imperfect English.
‘Oh, Li. Do you think we were too preoccupied with our careers and left too much to Niang and Dia?’ I despaired.
‘Mary, we didn’t know. We are doing all what we can. You are marvellous mother to Sophie. I am sure soon you be able to have conversation with our daughter.’ He looked at me earnestly. ‘I’m sure of it.’ He nodded, so definite.
‘How can you be so sure, Li?’
‘There only one person in world I know who can make this happen – that’s you!’
I was touched by his belief and trust in me, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about all the time wasted. After that brutal diagnosis I switched doctors. I never spoke to that particular doctor again. I don’t think I ever forgave him for being so negligent and careless.
The challenges ahead for Sophie just kept getting tougher. To be honest, it was so overwhelming sometimes that I just wanted to close my world. How I wished that we were just everyday people, as opposed to theatre people, with my mum living around the corner.
I decided I needed answers. Why did we have a deaf child when there was no deafness in either of our families? Sophie was tested for cytomegalovirus (CMV), a virus that can affect hearing development when the infection is passed across the placenta from a mother to her developing baby. She tested negative. That, too, was hard to take. When you are given a reason for something, you can understand and hopefully come to accept it more easily and move on. But not knowing anything at all left both of us feeling isolated and bewildered.
I felt I was in the tumble-dryer of life. Nothing was making sense. And my body, so attuned to constant movement, didn’t feel like my body. I felt disembodied. When I needed an escape from reality, I occasionally brought Sophie with me to the studio, where I would take my place at the barre and do some stretching. But it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, I thought I would go mad without ballet. A two-year-old toddler is a challenge at the best of times, but a profoundly deaf toddler is something else altogether. Mostly Sophie went along with the intensity of our days, but occasionally she would end up banging her head in silent frustration, and then go into her own dark space. When she was in that space, she could stay there for a long time. I often wondered whether the process we were going through was worth it. By the time Sophie was asleep, her equipment put aside for the night, I would be flat out in despair.
Li could see how exhausted I was and how exhausted Sophie was, too. He would try to take over when he got home to give me a break. Whenever he could, he would take her with him for his massage sessions. One day, he came rushing through the door from a session with Mad Charles. ‘Mary, Sophie said “elbow”! Charles heard her too!’ he said excitedly.
‘What?’ I said in disbelief. ‘Get her to say it again.’
Li pointed to his elbow. ‘Say “elbow”, Sophie. Say “elbow”,’ he pleaded, willing her to form the word.
I ached for her to speak, but she wandered off to play with her toys instead. Li was definite that he had heard her. Any new word Sophie uttered made us ecstatic.
Ava Jean, Sophie’s godmother, became an angel in this time of need. One day, she offered to take Sophie every Saturday morning. I began to look forward to having a morning off so Sophie and I could both have a break.
Sophie absolutely loved going to Ava Jean’s house. As soon as we pulled into the gravel driveway with its avenue of leafy trees looking like a secret tunnel, her eyes would light up. ‘Ava Jean! Hi, Ava Jean!’ I would say in a singsong voice, and Sophie would run off into Ava Jean’s arms. She had learned to say ‘Bye-bye’ by now and I was thrilled to hear her little voice say it to me.
‘Buh-buh!’ she called, waving.
‘Bye-bye, Sophie!’ I replied, waving right back.
Ava Jean’s house was perfect for small children. It was always a little messy, with papers, ornaments, paintings and sculptures on every surface. To Sophie’s eyes, the house was full of treasures, and bright colours. They also had a gentle old red-setter dog that Sophie adored.
Oh, it was such a relief to get away for these few hours! Sometimes I would just go for a quiet coffee by myself or for a long walk; at other times I would call in at the studio and spend some time with Li. Before Sophie’s diagnosis, my life had always been overflowing with people and I wasn’t used to being on my own, yet I found these long walks crucial for my sanity now.
One Saturday, coming home I returned to Ava Jean’s to collect Sophie and Ava Jean beckoned me into the kitchen. ‘Mary, I’ve been thinking,’ she said in her Texan drawl, ‘and I’ve been chatting with your friends from the ballet.’
I wondered where she was going with this.
‘We want to see you dance again, Mary.’
‘Well, that’s not going to happen, Ava Jean. Sophie is my life now.’
‘I know, Mary, I know. But we want to celebrate you and your marvellous career. Just one more dance. You haven’t danced since you walked off the stage that last time in Toronto.’
‘That was my farewell, Ava Jean! That was my last dance!’ I couldn’t see how it would be possible.
‘Of course, Mary. But it was your farewell to Canada. You need to have a farewell here in Houston, for those who know you and love you like I do.’
Ava Jean, bless her, had touched a nerve. My body was like a tightly wound spring and it needed to dance. It needed to get back in shape. I felt it. And Ava Jean knew it.
‘Mary, I’m begging you. We all want this to happen.’
And with that, the seed was planted in my mind. I went home with Sophie feeling strangely elated. Could I do this? It had been nine months since I had walked off the stage in Toronto. I decided to talk to Li about it that night.
‘We need to think about this, Mary,’ he said in his measured way. ‘It will be a lot of work, but I think you can do it. We’ll just have to get someone to look after Sophie while you return to the studio.’
‘You will have to be my partner, Li. I don’t want to do it with anyone else,’ I told him.
‘Of course, I would love to! It’ll be wonderful for you to get back on the stage one more time,’ he said, echoing my own thoughts as he always seemed to. He understood how important it was for me to have closure to my dance career.
Thankfully, Ben was also supportive. ‘That would be great, Mary!’ he said. ‘And maybe you can come back for more performances occasionally, if you want to.’ What a generous man!
Maria from the Mad Mothers group mentioned Pat, her mother-in-law, would be happy to babysit Sophie at home each morning while I was working in the studio. Luckily, Sophie was quite easy with new people, so that was a relief. I needed to do this, and our relationship would benefit from the break in the relentless days of speech therapy.
‘Hey, Mum,’ I said a couple of nights later. ‘I’ve decided to dance one more time with Houston Ballet. I will be dancing with Li, and I would love for you and Dad to be here.’