Two days ago I sent an e-mail to a friend, who understands such things, crying about my desire for Oliver to talk. Sometimes days and weeks go by and I don't really think about his almost complete inability to communicate verbally. This is just the way it is for us. It is our ordinary. Then a day of mourning pops up out of nowhere and just completely knocks me down and wanting Oliver to talk is all I think about. Luckily though it doesn't take me as long to get back up as it used to. And of course it helps to have friends who point out what I already know: We are on the right track and Oliver is growing by leaps and bounds every day.
The same day that I got my little e-mail pep talk I resolved (again) not to be so fixated on the speech thing. And that same day Oliver came running up to me, threw his arms around me and said: "I love you!" clear as day. Three times!
Oliver is a boy of few words. But Boy! those few words are enough to melt my heart and keep me going for a year!