Meet Ryan. He's Little Big.

Now, my baby is five years old. His name is Ryan and he has a form of dwarfism called Achondroplasia. It's the most common form of dwarfism. His dad Scott and I are both "average height" - meaning we don't have a form of dwarfism. It turns out, 80% of little people are born to average height parents.

Most families find out that their child has dwarfism during pregnancy. But in our case, we didn't know until weeks after Ryan was born. Getting a diagnosis with a newborn in hand made for a tough start. Scott and I were searching - and trying to understand - everything we could find about Achondroplasia. And we quickly learned why the doctor advised us to avoid "googling" the condition. There are over 200 kinds of dwarfism and even within the Achondroplasia diagnosis, there are extreme variations of complications, appearance, and experience overall. Our fears and worry only grew as we dug up information.

And in addition to that, Ryan was going through tests and procedures - so many that I honestly lost count of how many he had in his first year of life. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep. Or quite possibly selective memory preserving my sanity.

Here's Ryan and I after one of his sleep studies. For little people, breathing - especially during sleep - can be an issue. The sleep study sounds warm and fuzzy, but believe me it's far from it. The same amount of wires and and connectors are used for my infant as there are in an adult. Ryan's tiny body, entire head and face were covered with wires and connectors. He screams when the technician is hooking it all up - which takes almost an hour. It breaks my heart - which is why I have never taken a picture of him hooked up.

This is Ryan - all smiles of course - before an MRI. This test is done to check for spinal compression and/or hydrocephalus. This sounds non-invasive enough, but for an infant to receive an MRI, they are put under general anesthesia. And just like with the sleep study, I can't bring myself to take pictures in the moments that are difficult. Ryan has undergone anesthesia a number of times now, and it never gets easier. The fear and helplessness is horrible as you watch your baby fight the drugged sleep and then drift off.

These are just a couple of examples of Ryan's bad-ass ability to endure. Over the past five years it's been a revolving door with specialists, hospitals and constant watching. We've been lucky so far. Ryan has "only" had two surgeries: ear tube placement and tonsil and adenoid removal. The MRIs he has had over the years came up negative. He's dodged the CPAP machine because he had tonsil/adenoid surgery and since we've undergone routine sleep studies to watch. He hasn't had more than one set of ear tubes - though this is since when the first set fell out, they left holes. The future holds more challenges, it's just the way life is for Ryan. The eardrum holes will need to be repaired in the next year or so. And we will continue to watch for these and countless other complications that could appear over the next few years.

And yet, despite what it sounds like ... Ryan is not defined by his diagnosis. Being little is certainly part of who he is, but it doesn't dictate who he is or what he does. He has the most contagious smile, loudest laugh, bright blue eyes, huge imagination and biggest love of life I've ever seen. Ryan goes to school, plays sports, attends birthday parties, rides his bike, swims and has a three-and-a-half year old sister named Eleanor. Ryan makes friends easily at school and is the life of the party.

Before Ryan could talk, I talked to him endlessly about his stature. One of my biggest fears for Ryan is that he would be blindsided by his condition. I knew I had to start instilling confidence early. Once Ryan could understand simple concepts, I told him that he was "Little Big". This means that he is little, but can do big things. Ryan has grown to thrive being Little Big. He not only uses the phrase to explain his stature to new friends, he has learned to love himself for being Little Big.

Now that he is five year old, he's gaining an understanding and awareness that he is always going to be little. And thankfully since he's identified with being Little Big, he's transitioning to his new outlook on life as a little person well. He's even utilized Little Big to mean that he will be little when he gets older, but that he will still be a grown up and will do grown up things. Ryan's ability to accept himself for who he is blows me away. He's proud to be different in a world where people scrutinize their bodies and appearance. Instead of looking at what makes him different from everyone else, he's celebrating being little. Already, Ryan is wise beyond his years and a bigger person than most adults. This kid is going places.