I feel the sheer terror in the pit of my gut. It’s a horrible feeling, one that I don’t love, but had to come to accept years ago.
I can barely watch. I squint my eyes with anticipation, praying and hoping for the best.
My fingernails are bitten down to the point my cuticles are damaged and bleeding. It’s disgusting, but I can’t help it, my anxiety has taken over.
I hide my face behind my hands. I can’t take my eyes away, but it is nerve wrecking to see.
My head is spinning with anticipation. The questions pour over my soul. “Will she make it?” or “What’s going to happen!”
I feel frustrated and angry. I scream and shout random things. I’m offended when things don’t seem just or fair.
I pace back and forth. My fists are clenched. I bite my lower lip. Sometimes I demand an explanation.
Often, I jump with joy and smack my head in disbelief, totally awestruck. My heart races and I am speechless.
My emotions go completely out of control. I have tears spilling down my face and sweat on my brow.
Watching my daughter play soccer is quite the experience! I am forever a soccer mom!