It is nearly an impossible task to convey just how amazing kids are to someone who doesn’t have any. The best way I can describe it is this: You spend your whole life thinking you understand love. Then one night, you’ll find yourself standing in a room at 2 a.m., just watching your newborn baby breathe, just to make sure they are still alive. And you realize in that moment that you would burn the entire world to the ground for the slow rise and fall of that tiny chest. You become braver and absolutely terrified at the same time. You start looking for exits in restaurants and worrying about that weird stranger in the parking lot. You discover a capacity for anger and violence you never knew lived in you until you think you might need it because someone might hurt your kid. The first time you see your kid, the entire world changes. You realize you are meant to live for them… not for you. And it feels good. It feels right. Like a key to a door you have always been looking at but could never open. And one ordinary afternoon probably while you’re folding socks or something dumb, it will hit you… This is how your parents loved you. This is what she felt watching you sleep. This is what your dad felt every time he watched you walk out the door. And you had no idea. You spent your entire childhood with no idea.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ It’s so beautiful, words fail to describe it. It’s just right, it was always meant to be this way. ❤️