Is it worth it?

Is it, really?  This career I've craved since childhood. 
The hours spent riding in my dad's patrol car.  Listening to the radio crackle.  Loving every code run.

Once, I remember a fear so pure.  The contact was a disabled vehicle, but I knew that man was not right.  I knew that he was planning something wrong until he looked and saw me in the car, a little girl in a patrol car.  He paused, he turned, and we left.  My dad asked me if I had felt it.  I said that man was going to hurt you.  And he said yes, he was.  Always trust that feeling he said.  Always.

So I thought I knew what I was getting into.  Over a decade now, of ups and downs.  Ups so high I thought I'd never come down from the adrenaline.  Downs that made me think I knew fear. 

I remember standing there, with four coffins in front of me, touching my belly and wishing I could still be in my uniform that no longer fit.  I thought I was becoming a mother but really I was just wanting to be back on the road. 

And then my first child came, with those coffins still on my mind, and I started to understand what motherhood really was.  And the calls felt like slaps on the face.  Things that never touched me caused real pain.  Calls I'd handled for years made me come home and wake up a baby and hold her, just hold her. 

It was a transition, and a hard one, but it left me recommitted and proud and determined to show her what a warrior is.  And I found a balance; never all in balance, but a balance that worked for a while.  The fear could go up on a shelf for a bit each day.  For the fear of a mother is something that does not go away I learned.

And then more coffins.  And another baby.  And another journey, now familiar, to recommit and rise to the challenge.

And then more coffins.  And now a promotion.  And now the journey is different.  It's a battle now, of allegiances.  To men that rely on me for leadership.  To children who need a mommy.  To myself, in need of that warrior.  To a husband that has never left my side.

And I sit at this crossroads yet again, wondering if it is worth it.  Wondering if it is taking the easy way out to go find another job, one with a desk and work that is done in the daylight. 

But I think it is worth it.  At least today, I decide that it is.  And I head back in.  I strap on my armor, I pray for my family home in their beds.   I pray for my men to go home safe.  I get my coffee in a shop full of windows and I never relax until I am back in my car and moving, because it is worth it and I don't want to be in one of those coffins.  Not today.