My mom requested I write about Ryan. I don't normally take "requests" but I thought about it. I don't write about Ryan because I don't ever worry about Ryan. Ryan gives me almost nothing but pure joy and gratitude. He has reached or exceeded every milestone. He walks, he talks, he runs, he smiles, he laughs, he kisses his brothers good night, he occasionally eats dirt, he eats his vegetables and sleeps through the night.
I believe Ryan is a gift. We planned to have him, but that's all I had to do with it. He came out of me after I giggled (literally). I've been giggling ever since. Ryan makes me remember what normal is. Ryan makes me remember I don't have control over the outcome. He makes me remember that it's not all up to Owen to achieve everything, to stay healthy or be there for Dermot when they all grow up.
Ryan loves his brothers and wants to be like them. I remember the first time I saw Ryan climb into Dermot's stander I cringed, but then I realized he wants to do what both of his big brothers do. I love watching Ryan try to play knee hockey with Owen. At two years old he's not that bad.
At two years old, Ryan has taught Owen how to be a big brother to both of his brothers, he has taught his parents to marvel at every single detail of his development, he's taught me how to laugh again and most importantly he's taught me that joy still exists in our family, it was there the whole time, I just didn't see it.
Thank you Ryan.
Thank you God.