On your first Valentine's Day, I have a confession for you.
Before you were born I was really worried that I would not be able to love you as much as I loved your brother.
Becoming a mother the first time had been such an intense experience, the emotions so new and powerful and overwhelming. It was impossible to imagine that having a second child could be an equal experience. It would seem that, like almost all experiences in life, the magnitude of sensation would reduce each time.
It does not. Becoming a mother again, to you, was just as powerful, just as ovewhelming, just as intense. I'm like The Grinch- my heart grew three sizes that day!
And, for the record, I love you just as much. Except differently. Why different, I do not know. Because you are my daughter, perhaps? Because of your birth? Or maybe just because you are a different person. And I am too.
Regardless, on your very first Valentine's Day, I wanted to tell you that I love you with every iota of my being. More than I even thought possible. More than is rational, or reasonable, or probably even healthy. This will most likely drive you nuts one day. My apologies, in advance.
Happy Valentine's Day, Baby Girl! You are one of the great loves of my life. Better start coming to terms with it now.