Hold it in. Hold it back.

What’s it like having a child? It’s like taking your entire being and everything you’ve ever accomplished, taking your next breath and the one after that, every ounce of energy you have to survive, and placing it on red then watching the wheel spin. It’s putting everything on the line and then sitting on the edge of your seat, tense, scared, exhilarated. And watching a little chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. Feeling the rush of a hurricane, feeling the turbine of a jet, then holding it all in. Rise and fall. Rise and fall.

That chest gets bigger, the world gets smaller.

Your back gets weaker and your energy fades. You still watch that person move, work, suffer, win, lose, and be. Your bets were already placed, and no one can change your choice. It just is as it is, and you can’t get off the edge of your seat. Clenched fists and the brazen and irrational belief you are watching greatness happen. A biologically programmed fervor and yet a reason to believe in the presence of actual magic in the universe.

Through failed tests, wrecked cars…

Every other bump, fists remain clenched, ass remains sore. Perched on the edge of your seat, you are also thankful and aware. In a new way you are relaxed and accomplished. And you love. All the time.