So today's Ryan's birthday. On this day seven (holy cow, seven) years ago I went in to the hospital scheduled for an external cephalic version... in other words, his sweet little butt was wedged in my pelvis. If you know anything about having babies, you'll know immediately that this isn't exactly ideal. Not life threatening for either of us, just kinda nearly impossible, since babies are designed to come out the other way. As my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother before me, my first baby was crazy breech.
He wasn't due until June 9. That's easy to remember because not only was Richie's due date also June 9 (now that's family planning!) but my dear friend Tina had a baby just the year before, and his due date was June 9 too! But my whole family kept telling me that baby's coming on May 30. Yeah, ok. Sure.
Lo and behold, there I was, May 30, in a hospital gown deciding to have a c-section. After a rather painful and harrowing experience with the version that didn't work, my doctor promised me I'd not leave the hospital without a baby in my arms.
After a few phone calls, the family flooded from Dallas and Oklahoma to Denton. My family was a bit later than his actual birth time, but Eric's parents made it just in time for Mom to see Eric walk into the nursery holding a brand-new Ryan. He was a little too cold, so he had to be under warming lights for a while, and I was in recovery for a long time, so I didn't get to see him for a while... like an hour or more. Still not happy about that, but I try not to think about it. Richie and Maelynn never left my side following their births, and that was wonderful.
One of the first things Mama said, shortly after "I saw him, and he's beautiful" was "Told you that kid would be born today." It's actually amazing I can remember that much through the demerol fog!
She was right! May 30 was already important to us. Not only was it Memorial Day that year, it was also my dear Granny's (my great-grandmother) birthday, and she adored little boys. She's also part of where Maelynn's name came from. It was also Nanny and Grandad's anniversary.
Ryan is a little different than Richie and Maelynn in a couple of ways. Only he was around to see his Papaw, only he met my father, only he will remember Nanny and Grandad. I keep hoping that someday he'll be able to tell me what he remembers, if anything. I've asked Richie what he remembers, and since he was not even three when Nanny passed on, he doesn't remember much if anything. It was his Papaw who first suggested we check on his development. He was concerned. He bugged me about it, and the fact that he... someone who didn't just launch into a serious discussion very often... said something, we decided there was likely something to it.
How in the world do you wrap into a nice, neat little package someone who has impacted your life like your first child? Is there a way to put that into words?
I don't think so. I don't think it's possible to describe the way I feel when I catch him looking at me, smiling, when I've done something that made him happy. I don't think it's possible to explain how my heart nearly explodes when he wraps his arms around me, rests his head on my shoulder, and whispers "I love you." Are there words in our language to express the euphoric delight of his laughter, so pure and clean and clear that you can feel it? How I just can't imagine not having him in my life? How he's held a mirror to my face, showing me every facet of my personality, good and bad, and forced me to improve? To lean on our God-given faith and delve into His word with a fervency that I had only thought could apply to others?
Is there a way to express the desperate nature of my deep desire to hear, understand, and know him better? The desire that comes form my toes to never again hear him scream, see his face twisted in confused, tortured distortion of living on an alien planet in a society with so many traps?
I don't think there are the words to tell you who Eric Ryan Senzig is. So I'll tell you what I told our pastor to read about him for his baptism Sunday morning.
He wasn't due until June 9. That's easy to remember because not only was Richie's due date also June 9 (now that's family planning!) but my dear friend Tina had a baby just the year before, and his due date was June 9 too! But my whole family kept telling me that baby's coming on May 30. Yeah, ok. Sure.
Lo and behold, there I was, May 30, in a hospital gown deciding to have a c-section. After a rather painful and harrowing experience with the version that didn't work, my doctor promised me I'd not leave the hospital without a baby in my arms.
After a few phone calls, the family flooded from Dallas and Oklahoma to Denton. My family was a bit later than his actual birth time, but Eric's parents made it just in time for Mom to see Eric walk into the nursery holding a brand-new Ryan. He was a little too cold, so he had to be under warming lights for a while, and I was in recovery for a long time, so I didn't get to see him for a while... like an hour or more. Still not happy about that, but I try not to think about it. Richie and Maelynn never left my side following their births, and that was wonderful.
One of the first things Mama said, shortly after "I saw him, and he's beautiful" was "Told you that kid would be born today." It's actually amazing I can remember that much through the demerol fog!
She was right! May 30 was already important to us. Not only was it Memorial Day that year, it was also my dear Granny's (my great-grandmother) birthday, and she adored little boys. She's also part of where Maelynn's name came from. It was also Nanny and Grandad's anniversary.
Ryan is a little different than Richie and Maelynn in a couple of ways. Only he was around to see his Papaw, only he met my father, only he will remember Nanny and Grandad. I keep hoping that someday he'll be able to tell me what he remembers, if anything. I've asked Richie what he remembers, and since he was not even three when Nanny passed on, he doesn't remember much if anything. It was his Papaw who first suggested we check on his development. He was concerned. He bugged me about it, and the fact that he... someone who didn't just launch into a serious discussion very often... said something, we decided there was likely something to it.
How in the world do you wrap into a nice, neat little package someone who has impacted your life like your first child? Is there a way to put that into words?
I don't think so. I don't think it's possible to describe the way I feel when I catch him looking at me, smiling, when I've done something that made him happy. I don't think it's possible to explain how my heart nearly explodes when he wraps his arms around me, rests his head on my shoulder, and whispers "I love you." Are there words in our language to express the euphoric delight of his laughter, so pure and clean and clear that you can feel it? How I just can't imagine not having him in my life? How he's held a mirror to my face, showing me every facet of my personality, good and bad, and forced me to improve? To lean on our God-given faith and delve into His word with a fervency that I had only thought could apply to others?
Is there a way to express the desperate nature of my deep desire to hear, understand, and know him better? The desire that comes form my toes to never again hear him scream, see his face twisted in confused, tortured distortion of living on an alien planet in a society with so many traps?
I don't think there are the words to tell you who Eric Ryan Senzig is. So I'll tell you what I told our pastor to read about him for his baptism Sunday morning.
Goes by Ryan, just because we liked it, and is "Eric" because his mommy is crazy about his daddy.
Ryan loves trains, Cars (the movie and the vehicles), and drums. He also loves to read street signs. He can spot a "do not enter" sign from a mile away.
He is an incredible little guy and has taught us more about God's sovereignty than we can say in a paragraph.
He loves his family, and is especially crazy about playing iPad, swinging, and "the people train" (the DART rail), which he gets to ride when we visit Grammy and Grampy.
I love you, buddy Ryan. I'm proud of you. Every bit of you. There's not one part of me that isn't crazy about you, and I want you to know that Daddy and I are dedicated to not just helping you, not just raising you, but enjoying you every day of our lives.
When you rejoice, we will dance with you. When you cry, we weep with you. When you're out of control, we will do our best to be your calm. We will continue to carry you to Jesus. He is everything you need.
It seems like it's not enough... too simple... but maybe the best way to describe all we feel, all we want for you, is in those three little words... we love you.
Thanks be to God for our sweet Ryan.
Happy 7th Birthday, Ryan!
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