Well, it's been a very long time since I've blogged. Years have slipped away, and this little space has grown quiet.
But it would be remiss of me not to introduce you to my boy, Jack.
Jack Ryan Johnson.
No, we didn't name him after the movie Jack Ryan. And no, we didn't name him after the singer Jack Johnson.
We named him Jack because Ryan had always loved the name. Back when we were dating and newly married, he told me that someday he was going to have a son named Jack. And of course, we had to carry on Ryan's legacy by giving him his dad's name as his middle name.
Jack came into the world with the cutest little lopsided crying lips and a head full of blonde hair. The moment they laid him on my chest, he looked at me, I looked at him, and I immediately fell in love.
It was a very hard pregnancy. I knew I was done having babies because of how difficult those nine months were. I was incredibly sick during the first half of my pregnancy, and during the second half, I developed severe hydramnios, meaning I had too much amniotic fluid. My body felt like it was ripping at the seams.
I was induced three weeks early because my doctors were concerned that if my water broke on its own, there was a risk of a prolapsed umbilical cord.
It was scary, but when he came into the world healthy and perfect, I breathed a sigh of relief and snuggled my sweet caboose baby.
He's four now.
I have treasured all of his firsts because they were also all of my lasts. The last first smile. The last first steps. The last first birthday.
And he has been such an incredible joy.
He is kind and sweet. Emotional in the most beautiful way. Tender-hearted, yet rough-and-tumble through and through.
And if I'm being honest, his first year of life was incredibly hard. I find that I have a difficult time remembering much of that first year. But I'll save that story for another day.
For now, I'll simply say this: I am so grateful he is part of our family.
