His upper teeth are small and splay out. He has a severe overbite and an extremely undersized jawbone.
He has a very small chin. When he was very little, before a piece of his hip bone was surgically implanted into his lower jaw,
he really had no chin at all. His tongue would just hang out of his mouth with nothing underneath to block it.
Thankfully, it’s better now. He can eat, at least: when he was younger, he had a feeding tube.
And he can talk. And he’s learned to keep his tongue inside his mouth, though that took him several years to master.
He’s also learned to control the drool that used to run down his neck. These are considered miracles.
When he was a baby, the doctors didn’t think he’d live. He can hear, too.
Most kids born with these types of birth defects have problems with their middle ears that prevent them from hearing,
but so far August can hear well enough through his tiny cauliflower-shaped ears.
The doctors think that eventually he’ll need to wear hearing aids, though. August hates the thought of this.
He thinks the hearing aids will get noticed too much. I don’t tell him that the hearing aids would be the least of his problems, of course,
because I’m sure he knows this. Then again, I’m not really sure what August knows or doesn’t know, what he understands and doesn’t understand.
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