When you fall in love for the first time you think that you are the only person that has ever felt this way. Your dreams are filled with thoughts of this person and they occupy your heart in every moment of every hour. You can’t breathe without them and you believe that your life will cease to exist without this person.
You don’t ever imagine loving someone else.
Emily was my first love.
If you are very lucky you can hold on to your first love and never let them go. Keep them in your heart and let them show you how to love another.
I am so damn lucky that I get to hold on to my first love and keep her in my arms! I was silly to think that loving my children would be like loving a seventeen year old boy. That somehow I’d have to fall out of love a little to fall in love again. Or that falling in love for the second time would make the first less special.
I fall more in love with my second love every day. I can laugh at the foolish girl that was scared that she couldn’t possibly love two children. I love them both to pieces. I can’t imagine having one without the other. My big girl showed me how to do it. And this little one? She just makes it so damn easy with her cheesy grin.
My girls… they are both silly. They are both so sweet. They both give kisses that are to die for. They both make my eyes tear up when they put their little hands on the sides of my face. They are both my girls. And I love them. Both.
I’m curious about this BLOOP add water, more love thing. I’m sure it will be effortless, but I too often wonder, how the heck can I love another as much as my EB?
I thought it wasn’t possible. And now every platitude you’ve heard? They’re true. I don’t love Lucy the same. But I love her just as much. And so will you.
Yeeps! Hadn’t noticed how much she looks like Mike! Adorable! And Em just keeps looking more and more like you. Am in the middle of my little gift for Lucy — will think about something fun for Emily, too.
P.S. Trying to channel your running mojo, but coming up short. Keep feeling like my lungs might pop out of my chest. Popping out lungs = bad.
And the third, and the fourth and right on her heels the fifth – no less easy to love. Mom was right again – your heart just keeps getting bigger to accommodate the crowd. Can’t wait to see you guys.
Presumably you are counting your babies and their babies? Because I am not having three more kids. ;P