The love I have for my children isn't like tomantic love. I don't get butterflies in my tummy when I see them. It isn't like the love you read about, my heart doesn't swell to bursting each time I see them. Sometimes it is a relief to have them go off somewhere where I know they are safe so I can rest, because parenting is hard work. There are days when I find each one irritating, or needy, or rude, or self centered.
But imagine now one of them has gone and you don't know where. They have disappeared at the park, for example. Do you still feel relief? If not, it's because the relief is from the responsibility of caring, not from them themselves.
Imagine you live in a warning torn country and soldiers are coming through your street. Would you hide the children? Protect them with your life?
Imagine one of your children is desperately ill. Would you be sitting beside their hospital bed faking concern? After all, if one of them dies and you don't really love them it'd be a nasty shock but you'd be over it in a week or two. Heaven forbid, but if one of your children died would you be over it in a week or two?
When my child lay waiting for a lifesaving operation, I would have given anything I had to make her well again. Watching her fading away was agonising. I might not get a heart that swells with love each time I look at them, but I would gladly give my life for each one of my children. My fundamental wish is for them to grow up, grow old, and be happy. That is how I know I love them.