The following entry was written by Amy of ClickMom

When my first son was born, my husband arrived for a visit to the hospital to find me sobbing all over my baby. Concerned, he rushed to my bedside and asked me why I was so upset. I calmly informed him that I wasn't upset only overwhelmed with the feeling that I had never truly loved any one before holding my own son. I still think it is true, in a way. I had always loved, expressed my love, to my family or boyfriends in order to be loved back. There I was, two days after a disastrous labor and brutal c-section sitting in this hospital bed, feeling like I could lift cars, or run through fire or even fight off wild jungle animals all for this tiny helpless baby just because he existed. There was no give and take here, it was all give, I would be doing the giving and there was nothing in the world I wanted to do more. I was in pure unadulterated love.

As my baby grew, I often stopped to reflect on just how much I loved my baby. There was nothing I wouldn't do for my baby, I never lost the feeling that I needed to protect him. We went through our daily routines, him becoming a charming and sensitive boy, and me protecting him from the non-existent jungle animals. I would tell myself that the feeling I had on that very day was the most love any one person could ever feel for another. I vowed to make an effort to remember the depths of my love on that special day, when my ability to love had been gloriously maxxed out, only to find myself realizing a few months, weeks or even days later that I loved my child so much more than I thought I had the last time I stopped to think about it. We went on like that with me loving him more and more.

Four years later when I was about to give my child a sibling I wondered how I would ever love another child as much as I had loved the first. I could tell by the way the new baby moved inside me that it would be nothing like the first and hoped that I would find room for him in my heart too. The second I saw my second child I fell completely and madly in love with him. He was nothing like my first. My love for him was nothing like my love for the first. I didn't feel like I needed to protect this one from anything, I just felt like we could glide together, smoothly sailing through time, the baby in my arms. My second baby was always content, he would sit in his sling, on my bosom absorbing the world, his heart beating inches from my own. He was just hanging out. This baby was my easy baby. I couldn't have loved him more.

When my third baby arrived I wondered which brother he would take after. I didn't realize he would be his own person, too. He felt similar to the first, but still had a personality all his own. From the minute I held this one I knew that what made him special was that he was sweet. Even before he could smile, and he slept for the first two months of his life, I just knew that he was sweet. I remember when this one was 6 weeks old and barely smiling, telling my mother that this was the sweetest one yet and she scolded me for playing favorites. Let me tell you about my third son, he is the sweetest. Adults who don't particularly like kids offer to baby sit, every one who meets him wants to squeeze his chubby cheeks. When he talks, well his words are so sweet it is hard to listen without taking a bite of him. He wants to marry his Mom, and can't wait to be big enough to do so. He will tell you that we are very much in love with each other. We are, and I couldn't love him more.

Last Valentines day I gave each of my sons a different colored bouquet of tulips. I told them that each color represented an aspect of their personality. This Valentines day I will give them each a different kind of flower, for the unique and limitless special kind of love I have just for each one of them.