nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Happy, happy Birthday to my littlest big guy.

My baby is 6 years old today.

His was a pregnancy that began with denial. I convinced myself, until the day I felt him move, that I wasn't pregnant and was simply ill. With the troubles I was having with everything in my life, and with the fact that I had one son in diapers already, I had a tough time stomaching that I was going to have another one.

And so I ignored it until the day I felt him move. Tiny flutters that couldn't be explained away by anything else. And I knew.

I was sick throughout the entire pregnancy. Physically ill. I lost almost 30 pounds before I ever began gaining with him. I think part of that was because I had to work so hard, not only to make a living but to take care of myself and Trevor as well. With no one to lean on, it gets rocky.

On the day I went into labor, I was swimming in a neighbor's pool when I felt the first twinge. I lumbered my hugely pregnant body out of the pool, took a shower and started walking. I knew, because of past history, that I have long labors and figured this might help some.

At 8:40 am I delivered a perfectly shaped tiny little boy.

And any disbelief, any doubts, and any fears I had melted away. This itsy little guy opened his eyes, big blue eyes, and looked at me with his wise old man heart-shaped face and I fell in love.

Ryan, as a baby, was the most content child I've ever seen. Truly and with no exaggeration, he hardly ever cried. He was incredibly happy and pleasant. He sat and watched the world go by, almost as if he were memorizing everything and stocking it away till later. You could tell that he had so much he wanted to say and God forbid the day he learned to talk!

My son Ryan walked early and talked early and just mentally ate up everything before him. He remains so eager to learn and so hungry for knowledge.

When he was a little over a year old, his asthma developed and began to show it's ugly face. I found myself in the emergency room in the middle of the night, watching them poke my son and put masks over his face, while he wheezed like a fish out of water, desperate for air. That time he spent four days in an oxygen tent, pumped up on steroids and getting breathing treatments regularly as well as intravenous fluids and meds.

As he's grown, Ryan has emerged as an amazing human being. He's so bright and funny and ornery, yet so adorable that I end up laughing through the middle of discipline. Throughout the numerous trips to the ER for his asthma he has shown me what temerity for a little guy is. Like the wise old man he's always been, he takes what's coming and deals with it.

Put this boy in water and he swims like a fish. I call him my two-legged dolphin and he giggles.

His grin could make even an older woman's heart flutter and his laughter is contagious. Ryan charms everyone he meets and amazes each and every person with the big personality caught up in that short little body. He can talk his way out of anything and has no fear. It's nothing to find him jumping off the top bunk, cape included or standing on the rail to the deck, feet above the ground. He's never wanted to be messy or sloppy, and is particular about what he eats. And yet, he's all boy. Ryan is hell on wheels and then some. There is more strength in his small frame and mind than in some grown adults I've met and I honestly know that he's going to make a difference. He's already made one in my life.

I was scared in the beginning, and alone. And his presence in my life has made me a better person and renewed my faith not only in myself but in the gifts God gives us.

My son Ryan turns six today. My baby isn't a baby anymore and still he'll remain that way in my heart.

N.

3:39 p.m. - 2003-07-28

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