Our Story: Why I Write

If you are new to this blog, you may be having a hard time figuring what the heck I'm going on about in my posts. You may be wondering who I am and why I write about so many random topics. So today I'm introducing myself to you. I am LDS (Mormon). I am a police wife. I am an army wife. I am a college graduate and a bookworm. I am a runner. I am learning how to cook and clean and be frugal on our humble earnings. I am struggling with fertility issues, but one day I will be a mother. I suffer from wanderlust. I say suffer because I am too poor these days to do anything about it. My husband and I have been through many different adventures and trials, but we have been married for four years and plan on spending forever together. While all of these labels may seem random, this is my life.

Until I was about 16 1/2, I grew up in Wisconsin. I loved the small town where I lived, and I miss my friends and family there a LOT. When I moved away, I moved to Utah to get to know my family a little better. My parents divorced when I was four, and besides breaks from school and the year of kindergarten I spent in Utah, I didn't really get to grow up with my Utah family. I grew up without a mom. I grew up without five of the seven kids in my family. And it was hard. It was tough knowing that all of the trials I dealt with in Wisconsin could have been different. It was hard knowing I had another family across the country that I wasn't getting a chance to know and love.

When I moved to Utah, I had to get to know everybody. I had to figure out my place and where I fit in with my own family. But I finally had a chance to get to know my older sister. Getting to spend her pregnancy with her was cooler than anything. We had a chance to be closer than ever. I finally had an opportunity to know my little brothers. At five, eight, and eleven, these boys had fun, budding personalities that I grew to appreciate and love. I even got to know my older brother better who would find ways to hang out with me. We went for motorcycle rides and on "dates" for cheap movie night at the dollar theater. I always felt the closest with him out of all my siblings, and living in the same state where he lived was really exciting for me.

After high school, I lived in Hawaii for a few months. It wasn't everything that I thought it would be, but it was a good learning experience for me. And I fell in love with Oahu. I also decided that I was sick of standing by and watching my life happen to me. I wanted to be a more active participant in my own destiny. So I started striking out on my own.

Fast forward a year and I was in my final semester of my Associate's degree at UVU, working at a preschool and dating my husband. We didn't date as long as I thought I would date my husband, but he was in the Army National Guard and was gone a lot for trainings and ATs. In addition, he had expressed a strong desire to attend the Police Academy, and I was sure I would never see him then. We were on completely opposite schedules, and I was worried because I really really liked him. I knew that if I didn't snatch him up quickly, I would likely lose him forever. He proposed to me over Thanksgiving lunch, and we were married two quick months later. Four years later, we are still crazy about each other.

Two years into our marriage, Josh was given the opportunity to deploy to Iraq. He had always wanted to deploy and felt that it was his duty to go at least once while he was in the Army. At that point, he had been in for about eight years and was eager to finally DO something. I could respect that. We had started going back to church together and were preparing to go to the Temple. We were also trying to get pregnant. We fasted and prayed about the deployment, and we felt a strong impression that Josh needed to go. So he went. In the meantime, I went back to Hawaii to spend the deployment with Josh's sister. She and I had found an arrangement where we could nanny and work part time in exchange for room and board. But the "arrangement" was a sham. We were expected to work 13 hour days with no pay. It was ridiculous. We met a neighbor who took pity on us and invited us to stay with her. That was Amanda. I'm pretty sure she is the nicest person in the world for everything that she did for us. She is one of the most sincere, genuine, and caring people I have ever met. She saved us. SIL and I played in Hawaii until the end of August and then flew back to Utah to see family for a month. In October, we flew to Maryland where Amanda had moved, and I spent a month there nannying before Josh came home early! It was a big surprise, but it was very welcome. Alex, my SIL, followed about a month later. We were sad to leave Amanda and her sweet boys, but we were glad to be back in Utah.

This was all just over a year ago. It's so crazy to me that that's all the time that's passed. Since then, I graduated college with a Bachelor's degree in English with an emphasis in literature. Josh and I continued trying to get pregnant, but we haven't had any luck so far. We just got on insurance with his new job at the police department, so once we have enough money saved up to cover co-pays, we will go figure out our fertility issues.

In the past year, I have worked for a residential treatment center as a direct care worker and for an SEO company writing custom content for websites. Sometimes I feel like my skill set is too eclectic to make this blog have an angle that people will actually enjoy, so for now I think I'm going to write about life. Every day is a new adventure for us, and I look forward to sharing my world with you. Thanks for taking the time to read!
Bryn

Getting Passionate about Life

Remember the days when you were young and naive? Remember the times you were reckless and passionate because the future was open and you could do anything? Remember the freedom of letting go and not being scared because you were giving life everything you had? I remember those days with a passionate curiosity that I've nearly forgotten. Those days really weren't that long ago. So why does it feel like something must have happened to kill that inner wild and free part of me? I think it's part of "growing up." And I hate it.

My favorite risks I have taken in life have been the ones that I took without knowing what the outcome would be. But in the moment of making the decision, I knew exactly what I wanted. Whether it was a person, a job, a home, or whatever, it was a choice that I would stand behind a million times more because I knew at the time that it was right, that it was everything I'd wanted, that I would do anything to make it happen. But making the initial decision isn't the way to make those risks worth it. The only way to make sure you keep living the life you want is by maintaining the same level of commitment and enthusiasm about your decision as you had when you first chose it.

Right now, my passion is having a family. The risk, of course, is getting pregnant. It's a decision I made years ago, and it's something I've been waiting to experience ever since. There have been many months of tears, many months of envying my friends and family, and many months of questioning "why not this time?" And I would be lying if I said that I never gave up. Because there were also many months of pretending that I didn't care and many months of saying that it didn't matter. But each month, with renewed vigor, I try again. And that's how I know this is something worthwhile. After two years of trying, I am still passionate about becoming a mother. I am still enthralled with the idea that one day I will be able to name my own baby and take it home from the hospital with me. One day, when I hold that baby, I won't have to give it back to its mother, because I will be its mother. And until that day, I am going to keep freaking trying. Because that is what life is about. The whole point of life is to have a family, in my opinion. If I get an awesome job one day, that would be cool. If I wrote a novel that sold out around the world, I would love that. But if none of that happens, if one day I'll still be able to have my own little baby, then this life would have been totally worth it.

Ten years ago, my passion was gymnastics. One day it turned into a boy who pretended to love me with the same intensity that I felt about him, and then he broke my heart. But not too long later, my passion was a man who stepped up and followed through on his promises. He kept me for his and will continue to have me through eternity. And one day, hopefully soon, we will add children to our home.

While we all have different passions in our lives, one thing remains the same: they exist. Even if you can't figure out what your passion is at this moment, you should think about it. Because I'll bet there is at least one thought that consumes your mind, one thought that keeps coming back to you. Once you find what you're passionate about, never let it go. This is the secret to happiness. This is the meaning of life. Following your dreams will never disappoint you, because even if you fail, you will never EVER wonder "what if?"

What are your passions? What's your dream? What is the one thing that you want with every piece of you? Comment and share. I'd love to hear it!

Bryn