There is a boy named Sheamus, he is the very best. I love him, love him, love him, even though I get no rest.
The house is a disaster, you’re always on the go, Cleaning’s a solution, but I’d rather watch you grow.
Oh Silly Sheamus, I love you, yes, I do. And I can’t wait to hear you say, “Mom, I love you, too!”

I came across a notebook with this song scribbled inside it tucked in the back of a junk draw. I sang this little song every day to you for the first few years of your life. I remember the day I stopped singing it. It’s crazy that I’ve never talked about this until now. I actually had put it out of my mind until coming across this little notebook. The day I stopped singing it was the day I first heard the doctor say the word AUTISM and that they didn’t want to give me “false hope” on you being able to speak one day. I remember that night vividly. We were in our bedtime routine and bath time. I loved to sing that to you when you were in the bath and splashing around. You got excited every time I sang it. Except that day, I couldn’t finish the song. The last sentence just couldn’t come out of my mouth, but the tears started rolling down quickly because I had just heard that it may be that I never hear those words from you. I remember wanting to go back in time to the day before the diagnosis when that song was still our nightly routine and I could sing those final words of the song. I was angry that a fun little, silly song I sang was now something that I felt silly singing. I felt so naive to believe that it was all just going to be that simple. How could so much change in just one day? Our bedtime routine changed a bit, and there has been a part of me that felt very guilty for that, and part of why I had put it out of my mind and shoved that notebook in the back of a junk draw.
You were three years old then. Now you’re eight and so much has happened since then including you saying that you love me. The first time I heard those words, I felt like the world stopped. I don’t know that I thought about anything else for days afterwards. It was the best surprise! You tell me you love me very often now and I Thank God each time because I know how fortunate I am to hear those words. But you had some more surprises up your sleeve….

Right around that time that I stopped singing that song, I started singing a different one right as I tucked you into bed.

“I say Good Night, Sweet Sheamus, Good Night. I say Good Night, Sweet Sheamus Good Night, I say Good Night, Sweet Baby, Good Night, You’re my heart, You’re my Life.”

I sang that to you every night as I tucked you in for years. You just listened, rolled over on your side and snuggled up. You still couldn’t speak, so I would always wonder if you REALLY understood what I was saying or if you were even listening to any of it. Well, I got my answer not too long ago. One night as I was tucking you in, you said, “I love you, Mommy. You’re my heart.” Oh, my sweet boy, I wish I could tell you what that did for me. All that wondering about whether you heard me and now, I know with 100% certainty that you always did. Your sister’s former Kindergarten teacher also had to stop to tell me that you had come into her class to give your sister a hug and said, “You are my heart” to her. It’s become your thing and your way to express how much we mean to you. It also serves as my reminder to always keep the faith even in the toughest moments and to know that even when I feel you’re not paying attention, you ALWAYS are.

Oh Silly Sheamus, I love you, yes I do. And I am so BLESSED to hear you say, “Mom, I love you, too.”

Sweet Boy, You’re my heart. You’re my life.

Never stop being you.

Mommy

P.S. I live for your surprises.