Friday, 18 July 2014


There has only been a few times in my life when I have really cried with joy.

When you have a child you remember all their milestones; when they recognise you for the first time, when they first crawl and walk, when they go to the toilet independently and when they first called you mummy.

When Zach was diagnosed at 3, he had no language and I was told not to expect any. At 5 he started to copy what was said to him (echolalia) and would spend most his time making random sounds. It took 3 and a half years and help from the special needs health visitor to toilet train him.

I remember having to set the alarm on my phone for 5.30pm everyday to put a nappy on him to do a poo, because he would happily wee in a toilet but would not poo. So by 5.45pm I would take the dirty nappy off him, wipe him clean and put pants back on him.

I went to pick Zach up from school, he was 6 at this point. One of his class members came out of the class, screamed mummy ran to her and gave his mum a hug. Shortly after Zach did exactly the same and hugged me tightly. Whether he was just copying his class member or not, he called me mummy and gave me an almighty hug.

He called me mummy, he knows I'm his mummy. I waited 6 years for him to call me mummy- and it was the best feeling in the world. I cried so much his teacher had to console me, because I just couldn't stop.

Zav did have language but nobody could understand what on earth he was saying (Zi is like this now)
So for a long time, I was 'May' to him. I loved it, I am his May. It made me feel incredibly special, he
couldn't say mummy so he used another word 'May'

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