Ryan

Everyone told me when I was pregnant with my son that nothing would prepare me for how I would feel when I held him for the first time. They were right. And it's been a year since the first time I held Ryan and I STILL have a hard time articulating the feelings. I simply just don't have a good enough command of the English language. There were emotions I felt that I have no title for. They were just, well, overwhelming. An opening, a vulnerability and rawness that came the moment the nurse put him in my arms. Pure euphoria washed over me like a tidal wave and I haven't been the same since. And I'm glad of it.

Since Ryan's birth, I've completely opened myself up in ways I never thought possible. Ways that would never have happened if it weren't for creating, carrying and birthing a child. My life has always had meaning, but now I feel like it has more of a purpose. I have a beautiful, charming son who depends on me every single day for his survival and that purpose sometimes staggers me. I wonder sometimes how I managed to be worthy enough to be this child's mother, while at the same time, humbly having the utmost gratitude that he chose me to come through unto life. I've never felt so honored in all 31 years of my existence. Not even when my husband asked me to be his wife.

I've been fortunate to have spent a majority of the first year of his life home with him. I'm so grateful every day that I'm in a situation where I can be home with him, watching him come to his next milestone and having him with me always. He truly is my little buddy and we have a great time together. I never thought I would deal very well with being on someone else's schedule, but my world revolves around Ryan's; and you know what? I absolutely LOVE it.

Ryan is Gaelic for "Little King." In my kingdom, he definitely rules with an iron fist over my heart.