If there's anything moms have in common, it’s that we worry.

We worry about our kids.  We worry for our kids. We worry we aren’t enough. We worry we aren’t doing enough. We worry we’re doing too much. 

We long for peace. But we live in worry.

I sat in the front seat, unmoving. Goosebumps covered my body, yet I was dripping with sweat. My heart was racing and my head spinning as if I had gotten up too fast. I willed my breathing to be slow and steady. In through the nose, 2, 3, out through the mouth, 2, 3. Despite my best efforts the breaths were shaky and thin. I knew what was happening. I also knew it just had to run it's course. I was having a panic attack.