A Lesson in Love
The day I brought my newborn home on Valentine’s Day
“To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.”
— Pablo Neruda
Most of us have Valentine’s Day tales that aren’t the best. I know I’ve had quite a few of my own. Waiting and waiting for my date to show up and then they didn’t. Waiting for hours to be seated for a fancy dinner, which turned out not to be as fancy. Wondering if they’ll bring me flowers but telling me, “Not today. I’ll get them tomorrow when they go on sale.”
Nevertheless, 23-years ago, on February 14th, I brought my newborn son home from the hospital. For the first time, Valentine’s Day was indescribably beautiful.
I remember wondering how was I so fortunate to have this warm small creature staring at me with vast eyes, the pinkest bowed lips, a button nose?
This was the deepest, most unconditional love I had ever felt.
Still swollen and sore from giving birth, still rendering stitches, engorged breasts with enough milk for a small village, a Mona Lisa smile remained on my face. With my wee son sleeping in 3-hour shifts, I had a built-in excuse to rest.
