I'm certain every mother has felt it at least once, if she was composed entirely of homosapien. But does it ever stop sneaking around the corner and popping out at you? That deep, deep, tear-jerking, desperation that you may not be cut out for it? It's not always there. But when your baby is sick, or going through a phase where it just seems nothing you do is good enough to make them happy - it rips you open inside with back-breaking force. Why is he not happy? Why can't I fix it? What if I'm a terrible mother? This is the ONE thing in my life I HAVE to be good at. Seriously, me, I, am responsible for not fucking up someone else's life, and trying to make them a good person in the process. Someone please pass the vodka.