Happy first Valentine's Day! They can call this a Hall.mark holiday all they want, but if you look at it as a celebration of love and connection, you've made it my best Valentine's Day ever.
February is my least favorite month of the year, in general. It's cold and dark. There are no holidays from work. Winter is usually beating the crap out of us, and while the month is the shortest of the year, it always feels like the longest.
This time last year, I was pregnant. I was just starting to believe that yes, this pregnancy was 1) real and 2) was going to stick. When you're over 40 (by a couple of years ::ahem::) and pregnant the statistics are terrible. TERRIBLE. You're basically just waiting for something to inevitably go wrong, and it was hard for me to believe that I (and you) was a statistical improbability.
(I still don't believe it sometimes, to be honest.)
Some women-- and many single moms, I've noticed-- are much more excited during their pregnancy than I was. Please never take that as an indication that I wanted you any less, or that I wasn't impatient to meet you. It was the simple fact that I just couldn't believe it, couldn't believe you-- right up until I saw your face for the first time, all red and bright-eyed and taking everything in.
So you're here for your first Valentine's Day, and while I've had some nice Valentine's Days in the past, this one wins. Hands down.
Our Valentine's breakfast ended with you spitting cereal into your hands and mushing them together with great joy. You were so proud of yourself-- after all, a few minutes earlier you didn't even know you could do that. Our Valentine's dinner ended with you flinging your spare spoons on the floor (as always) and looking incredibly pleased with the noise.
And later, I sang to you as you struggled against sleep, rubbing your head under my chin.
I didn't even know you a year ago, but I'm so glad you're here. Happy Valentine's Day to my wonderful, tiny valentine. I love you.