Something to Live For

I know us punk rock types aren't supposed to really want family and kids. I mean, sometimes it happens that we get surprised with a pregnancy and then we raise our kids with mokawks and skull and crossbone onesies while rocking them to the Ramones and the Descendants. But truly, this is what we were designed to do. Have kids. I mean, it's the biological purpose of sex. To procreate. And maybe having kids isn't right for you, but for me, it's something to live for. It's not always fun, it's almost never glamorous or cool, it's dirty, tiring and frustrating. But I look at my little one asleep in my arms and I love her so much it makes me want to cry. I look at the things we sacrifice in our budget to provide for our kids and I know that it's all worth it. And if I have to spend a Saturday at Chuck E Cheeses or read one more book before bedtime or have a dirty house cause there's no time to clean, it's okay. Because I am doing my best to make sure this kids grow up happy and healthy and can do anything that they want too.

Roxi was four weeks old yesterday. We dedicated her to God in front of our family and friends yesterday. I got to thinking about her birth. I was looking at my 'wall of fame', a collection of random pictures from the last 15 years in odd, mismatched frames. Close to 20 different photos, mostly of me and my friends and family. I was thinking that I almost died 4 weeks ago. I wasn't really ready to admit it when it first happened, but looking back, I know that it really did happen. So I was looking at these photos and thinking about dying and thinking about what it would have been like to have all those photos come to an end. Does that make sense? I record my life through a camera lens. I think we all know I take way too many pictures. I have too many family photos on the walls at home. But I love them. How weird would it be for them to just stop.

My mom was going to get a foster baby that had been shaken and beaten pretty badly, might not make it. 2 months old. And I looked at Roxi and thought "what if someone snuffed your life out?" All those moments I've shared with Ashley that I would never get to see with Roxi. And what about Ash? What if she died at age 5 and I never got to see her go to high school or get married or have her own kids and career and life?

Life really is such a magical, amazing gift. We go through each day not really realizing how lucky we are to be here, and how many people are watching us, are being blessed by us, that we are still here. You might not think your life is much, but to someone else, your life is everything. To your mom, dad, best friends, who knows who else, watching you be alive is phenomenal.

Don't really know where I'm going here, just ranting really.

On a side note, talking to a friend the other day about my delivery. I told her I would definitely do something like a birthing center next time and she just laughed and told me no way a birthing center would take me. "Why?" I asked. "Honey, she said, you are a high-risk pregnancy. You have to be in a hospital from now on." I denied being high risk for a while, but she convinced me. It kinda floored me. I never thought of myself as high risk, even after what happened. I guess I still kinda think I'm invincible, that the rules probably don't apply to me, if I just set my mind to it, I'll be fine. I am a very stubborn person, you know. So anyway. I'll admit it. I am high risk. But don't try to talk me into an epidural. That is just going too far :)