Little Man is 1

Every parent I know says how quickly their kids grow. It certainly doesn't feel that way when you are in the day-to-day routine. Yet, there are moments as parents where you get to sit back and appreciate major milestones. Yesterday was one of those days for my family. It was a beautiful birthday shared with friends and family via Skype.

Of course, I had tears here and there preparing for his party and feeling grateful. However, it wasn't until all the excitement died down and the kids were in bed that the gravity of this milestone sank in for us. Little man is one. I didn't even know how much anxiety and fear I had been holding in until the tears of relief and joy overcame me. It's normal and easy to take for granted your health and your children's health until you've experienced a situation that reminded you how little control you actually have.

There were no warnings. I had an easy pregnancy with Ryan. I was in good health, no complications or concerns about anything. He was delivered by c-section after being a week overdue. He appeared by all accounts to be perfectly healthy. When I first saw him, I had a feeling something was wrong and asked a few times but everyone around me said he was fine and everything was perfect. That first night I needed to get some rest and I instinctively thought he should go to the nursery. It is highly unusual for me. I was upset when they took Isabelle away for an hour or two one night. I don't know what was telling me to make sure he was supervised. But, again, I'm grateful. The next day Ryan turned blue in my arms and was unresponsive. I buzzed the nurses and they immediately and literally ran in and grabbed him, sprinting down the hallway to the NICU. It was just John and I in the room. We were too scared to speak for a minute, just silence and panting. Everything changed in that moment.

The next time I saw Ryan was a few hours later when they determined he was stable and hooked up to more wires and machines than any child should ever need. I don't wish to relive the entire experience today so the most simple way I could explain is that I felt like I was living outside my body for Ryan's hospital stay. There was so much fear and pain that I had to block that out and focus on giving Ryan what he needed. He needed as much love, positivity, and snuggling that was possible as well as a mom who would fight for him when he needed a voice. I can tell you in the next two weeks, we met and talked to dozens of neonatalogists and specialists, none of which could offer a diagnosis or much of an explanation. It took them over a week to even figure out his episodes were indeed seizures. His neurologist has been a blessing in our lives and single-handedly responsible for my ability to sleep at all when Ryan did come home. There hasn't been a diagnosis in Ryan's condition. We managed the seizures with medication and weaned him off early. He's been seizure-free since he left the hospital. And, he has now reached the biggest milestone in his brain's development.

Above and beyond all the challenges Ryan faced as an infant, he is a joyful and loving soul. He gives warm hugs and laughs when you kiss him. He is clever and handsome. Plus, he and his sister are as close as any siblings I've ever seen. We have been continually surprised by our little man and our lives have been enriched as his parents. My heart and prayers go out to the families who have children enter intensive care each day. The families and infants I met during his stay will always hold a special place in my heart. May you all be blessed with the love of your children and they with yours.