I can feel it gripping me even before I recognize the source. My chest tightens, my face flushes, my breath catches. Heart racing, I search frantically for the trigger. Sometimes it's physical, but mostly I'm just lost in my own head. If I can identify the thing that causes it, I can usually talk myself down. It doesn't happen often, but the recovery is tough, regardless. Hours later, I'm still reeling. "Calm down," I tell myself. "You're making too much out of this. Everything is fine." And it will be, soon enough - when I can wrap up in the arms of the man who truly understands me and finally allow myself to relax. But for now, I swallow it back. These small people need me, so I can't freak out. Not yet.