“Happy love day to the tiniest bundle of joy that taught us what love really is about. We celebrate you today!”
This was my instagram post as I sat in my car after a quick Publix run today. I wrote it, because I walked into the grocery store to grab a few things, and I felt like I could not breath with all of the stupid balloons, roses (i hate roses), cookies, and pink things everywhere. The 14th is not a day that I want to dread each month, but unfortunately it’s never an easy day. Today my princess would be 7 months old, and I should be making valentine’s with her little hands and feet, but instead I am dreaming of all the ways that I can pop the heart-shaped balloons in the grocery store to make me feel a little better. Really?
Today is hard. I told Dan that I was not in the mood to celebrate anything today, and I just needed to be sad. The truth is that she did teach me what love is about. She taught me how to love harder and deeper, and that each breath is a treasure, and we cannot be guaranteed the next one.
I have never hated nor loved Valentine’s Day, but I have a feeling forever February 14th will just feel a little different for me. As I tried to get my thoughts in check, because I am typically not the person who feels the need to pop balloons and throw roses across the room, I remembered a little song that used to give us hope. It went like this:
oh, how he loves us
As soon as we found out that I was pregnant with Mary Anna, it was Dan made this song his alarm. At the time we were going to doctors appointments to make sure that I was progressing okay, and we would leave at 5 a.m., so that he could get to school and me to work without anyone knowing where we were. We were scared, because of my miscarriages, yet we knew this baby would live. We just knew it. And she did.
So each morning, when I would wake up thinking that each day that this sweet baby was still in my belly was a gift, I would hear that song. We would listen to it after the hard doctors appointments, and we would be hopeful. Because no matter what, we knew that our King loved us. He does. So now, sometimes the song is too hard, and sometimes when I feel the need to be a lunatic because I am so sad, I turn it on and cry thinking that I am held by the King.
He first taught us to love, because He is love. Now my Mary Anna, teaches me how to love too. So, somehow, someway, today I will celebrate, because my God is love and my baby girl is a true picture of love.