the little one cries in the middle of the night, a hoarse sound over strained wet gravel. she panics and says she cannot breathe, short interrupted heaves. i snap her up and hold her tight in my arms, press her body into my chest and whisper into her ear, it’s ok, it’s ok, breathe like this, and i breathe, calm down, breathe like this, and she breathes. she settles down, long haggard breaths smooth out. she whispers, i’m ok now, and i breathe hoping the breath she catches is my own.