Bernadette Griffith

There is a caffeinated tornado frantically preparing for a book launch while wondering whether she remembered to order enough cupcakes, print enough flyers, or answer the email that has been sitting in her inbox for three days, and then another part of me that is sitting there going, “Giiirrrrrlllll, chill!”

The book launch is getting closer. Every day the countdown number gets smaller while my to-do list somehow grows longer.

As a working mom, time is already a precious commodity. Between work responsibilities, household tasks, family commitments, and appointments, most days feel carefully choreographed. Adding a book launch into the mix has transformed that dance into something that resembles an Olympic obstacle course.

Then, there is the hearing loss factor.

People often assume that cochlear implants and hearing aids simply “fix” hearing. The reality is more complex. My devices help tremendously, but listening still requires effort. A crowded restaurant, a noisy meeting, or even a busy family gathering can leave me mentally exhausted.

Ironically, preparing for a public event about hearing loss requires a tremendous amount of communication. There are emails to send. Phone calls to return. Interviews to schedule. Community groups to contact. Churches to reach out to. Newspaper pitches to write. Social media posts to create. Every task seems to involve listening, talking, or processing information. By the end of some days, my brain is fried.

Meanwhile, my family continues to need things. Dinner still has to appear. Laundry needs to be folded. A pool to be opened (although my husband mostly did the work there). Children still want rides, snacks, conversations, and occasional evidence that their mother remembers their names (her own? Yet to be consistently recalled effectively).

Some evenings I sit down intending to spend twenty minutes working on launch preparations. Three hours later, I am surrounded by stacks of bookmarks, poster board, giveaway items, and half-finished notes while wondering how it became bedtime.

Yet beneath the stress is gratitude.

This launch represents much more than a book release. It highlights years of challenges that once felt impossible to explain. It represents surgeries, hearing aids, cochlear implants, frustration, adaptation, and resilience. It is a journey from isolation to connection. Most importantly, it is an opportunity I could never turn down.

If one person attends and finally understands what a loved one with hearing loss experiences, that matters. If a parent realizes they are not alone in navigating hearing challenges, that’s important. If one newly diagnosed individual leaves feeling hopeful about the future, that’s all I want to do in life which is bring people a second wind in their journey.

So I keep checking items off the list. I keep writing emails. I print many materials. I remind myself that perfection is not the goal; connection is the point.

The truth is that these events are never flawless. Something will go wrong. A sign may fall over, a technology glitch may appear. I will forget to bring something important. However, if people leave feeling informed, encouraged, and understood, then the event will be a success.

Until then, you’ll find me somewhere between educator, author, mother, event planner, and hearing loss advocate, carrying a planner in one hand and a coffee cup in the other while looking like a project manager on a construction site for launch day, hard hat and clip board in hand (because let’s face it, I’m certainly capable of hurting myself to make the smallest things work, so yes, safety matters!🤪)

Wish me luck.