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.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
So it's May 19th. I signed up for the Minneapolis Half Marathon on June 6th.
I'm not running. I'm done shaming myself. But truth be told, life gets in the way. That's why none of my plans are ever concrete. I've driven myself crazy trying to control the events and circumstances in my life, anything to hold on to. It doesn't work.
Someone gets sick, I don't sleep for a week. Someone else gets sick, I don't sleep. Try running after four hours of interrupted sleep. It's not fun.
I have been downplaying the emotional toll of a few recent occurrences in my life.
Dermot got a feeding tube, every night I hook Dermot up to a pump that feeds him in his sleep so he gets adequate nutrition throughout a 24 hour period.
Dermot is having trouble clearing his secretions, so tomorrow another machine will be delivered to my house to assist him in clearing his secretions.
Dermot was in jeopardy of losing physical therapy time at school, I met with the school staff to resolve the issue.
Dermot needs additional physical therapy, I found yet another physical therapist to try. I make the appointment, hoping to God I like this one.
I lost it a little last night, I spilled a little water from my glass. It felt good. These things I deal with on a day to day basis are incredibly difficult. They are emotionally draining. No parent should have to make the choices I make. I need to remember that.
I wake up, I conquer the tasks of the day, I get an hour or two to myself after everyone is in bed and I walk throughout the day with my head up, eyes forward and I am always willing to help someone in need. If I lose the desire to help others I know that something is wrong. I know I've lost my focus. None of this is about me anymore. It's about being the best person I can be and play the best game I can with the cards I've been dealt.
So right now, a half marathon isn't a realistic goal for me. Signing up for it did get me moving again. I'm still running four days a week, just not 9 miles at a time. Although the jury is still out on wearing the bikini this summer...
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Here I am, days before I become a mother for the first time.
Here's Owen, I'm terrified and have no idea what I'm doing!
I'm better now. Owen is a great kid. I'd just had a miscarriage a week prior to this picture being taken.
This next photo shows Dermot only two months away....
Here's Dermot. Beautiful, I'm excited about my new guy. I knew how to take care a of a baby now. I can sit back and enjoy him.
Life changes fast. Life changes in an instant. You sit down for dinner and life as you know it ends. The question of self-pity.
Dermot's first seizure November 17, 2006.