My first Valentine’s Day as a new mom wasn’t exactly romantic—and not through lack of trying. We made reservations at a chic little bistro that wasn’t kid-friendly, I squeezed my postpartum self into something slinky that (gasp!) didn’t have an elastic waistband, and my husband even wore some cologne, which he hadn’t used since the days when we both began smelling like spit up and baby powder.

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