Thank you Grandma.

Last Friday my beautiful grandma passed away after a hard battle with mortality. I was blessed to be not only her granddaughter, but one of her caregiver as well.  I was given the opportunity to speak at her funeral Friday, I'm grateful for her life of service and love.

I am on the tail end of the parade of grandchildren and I know there are thousands of memories filed away in each of our heads, I wish we all had the opportunity to share them.  I felt pressed to speak about grandma not as she was in a time that I was too young to remember, but rather a time that occupied the last twenty years of her life, a time of limitations, strength, love, and amazing lessons.  Grandma was known for her service, I was young when she was diagnosed with a disease that consumed most of her physical abilities.  However I do have memories of her kindness.  I to this day have my Muffy Bear dressed in the outfit she sewed for her, and I clearly remember the perfectly painted clothing on her Disney princess dolls to make them modest, I still carry with me a tremendous guilt for eating the insides of her freshly made bread, leaving behind a warm crust shell, and sitting silently as she asked who had eaten the insides…sorry Grandma that was me. I remember a sleep over in which I had forgotten my Teddy bear, Megan 101, never forget the Bear! Crying in the back room she brought me an armful of stuffed animals to comfort me. Grandma taught me to serve, even in the small moments I remember of her being able to truly do so the way she liked.

As we all grew older grandma changed, I remember hand rails in the hallways of her house appearing, the walker in the kitchen, and finally the wheel chair.  I remember her as she started to struggle to speak, this is the grandma I knew best, and this is the grandma I loved the most. She always smiled when we came, that was one thing she never lost.  The master of the facial expression. Grandma had the ability to communicate so much without saying a word. A few of my favorite expressions were: the disappointed you are making me eat dinner before dessert face, the you're not leaving so soon face, the sarcastic eye roll when she knows you're teasing or she's had enough of your sass face.  The give me that frosty right now face, the stares of total love and sweetness, the bright eyes when you told her something exciting, the open mouth with big eyes when the news was extra special! Grandma taught me that words aren't always necessary.

The way we were able to communicate with grandma was far greater than any actual conversation to me, her ability to convey emotion through her facial expressions and spirit mean more to me than any long conversation we might have had.

The memories I have of grandma is not a list of physical limitation, missed outings, or lack of discussion, but rather the privilege of sensing her spirit, where words ceased her spirit worked overtime to radiate warmth, love, and humor. Grandma lived a life of service, her physical body made most of those common acts of service out of her ability, however, one of the greatest acts of service she ever gave was to allow me, and so many others to serve her.  As a woman who was rarely served herself, I can imagine how trying it must have been for her to allow a seemingly endless sea of caregivers to take care of her and serve her. Grandma taught me to be servable.

Grandma's words when spoken were worth the struggle it took her to speak, One Sunday night when we were having a slumber party as I liked to call them, she gave me a beautiful piece of wisdom to ponder, I had moved her to the couch to sit with me, we'd made brownies, and we'd watched a girly movie.  I put her to bed with some effort, I had run my first half-marathon the day before and I could barely move.  About an hour later, I hear her moving in her room, I cringed as I stood with my sore muscles and I entered her room.  And there I find grandma on the floor at the foot of the bed, her you caught me facial expression beaming up at me, “what are you doing I asked!?”  I have so much to do, it's time to get going! She replied.  I chuckled and said it's one in the morning, no one has anything to do! We laughed, and I told her we'd have to wait for my dad to come get her off the floor because my muscles were too sore from the race. She looked at me sternly, and said, "Why do you run, when you can't even walk?" This phrase has stayed with me ever since, what lessons could I learn from this philosophical question, I have thought it many time as I felt overwhelmed or felt that I wasn't doing enough, when feelings of inadequacy floated into my brain...why am I running, if I can’t even walk? Patience will bring progress, Grandma taught me patience. Not only patience with others, but patience with myself.

Patience with yourself and others, service and being servable, these are all great traits, but they do not come easy...Grandma taught me that too, as she struggled through this mortal existence with such a frustrating disease grandma handled each moment, each phase, and each day with grace, humor, and realism. To make it through this life we must be willing to handle trials with grace, to ward off negativity and sadness with humor in our situation, and to embrace our reality as a part of God's greater plan.  Grandma taught me this, and I will push forward always thinking of her grace, humor, and realism to overcome each trial I face.

There are a flood of emotions as we enter new phases in our life, a life without grandma’s wit and wisdom readily present, but I will always remember her grace and her spirit that gave me strength when life was too much. I am grateful for the lessons and for the beautiful ride. We love you and we will miss you

Embrace Your Battle

  In November of 2014, I sat in my small, confining bathroom, four walls, and a throne of waiting...One, one thousand, two, one thousand...179, one thousand, 180, one thousand....3 minutes, closed eyes, shaking, I took a breath, and I looked. Pregnant.

Closed my eyes again, shaking more vigorously, opened them again, looked. Pregnant. How? How was this possible?! I mean I know "how" I took human development, but seriously how in that moment was I so infinitely blessed?! To me, some people's nightmare was my greatest and most far reaching dream.  Pregnant?! I couldn't be.


My thoughts of denial have nothing to do with my fear of becoming a mother, those fears came later, but rather with my fear of never becoming a mother which has been in the forefront of my mind since I was 15.  Most women don't grow up thinking they will deal with infertility.  Most women get that shock later, after months, and years of heart wrenching struggle.  I received this news when I was in Junior High, that I might struggle with infertility, and the ability to become a mother.  I have been told that I am lucky, to have known beforehand that this might be my plight.  That I had time to prepare myself for that moment if it came.  I don't feel as fortunate as I've been made out to be. I assure you growing up with this knowledge did not make it easier to deal with.  A struggle is a struggle no matter at what point, or what moment it comes

March is endometriosis awareness month, I wrote a post about it last March, never even entertaining the thought that this March, I'd be sitting on my couch, heartburn raging, and 21 weeks pregnant. I am a success story. I am an endo warrior.  I look back on my journey and I know it isn't over, I will struggle and fight this disease my entire life, but in this moment, I have won.  I have beaten the odds, I have run up a steep hill that seemed impossible to overcome.

Throughout my pregnancy I have struggled with feelings of crippling guilt.  How is it that I was able to get pregnant, when others struggle, and have struggled longer?  Every story, about brave women still fighting the good fight, pierced me as I realized that I was now a cause of pain to them, and to those sweet couples who I know and those who I don't.  These were not emotions I expected to have in my pregnancy, but they were my constant battle.

I have recently come to the conclusion that we must embrace our battles. My battle for children began over 10 years ago.  I have fought every day, I have pushed through extreme pain, doubt, fear, treatments, tears, surgeries, and unwelcome comments.  My battle has been difficult, it was picked for me, because it was one I could handle (even though there were times I felt I couldn't). My baby is a miracle, my baby is to be celebrated, my baby is a beautiful reminder that I have fought the good fight, and I have kept the faith.

For those of you who still fight the good fight, who still struggle with the unknown.  Please know that you will always have my love, my ear, and my shoulder.  We are more than our battles.

In March we wear Yellow, for endometriosis, for those who will always be fighting, and those who have beaten the odds.

The Absent Blogger

I have always been one of those people who looks to the future, I always wanted to grow up, get married, be a teacher, and have a family.  These were my musts! Well, I've almost accomplished all of my musts! I can't believe that I am at this point in my life.  It's beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.  The moments I thought would never come have come and come beautifully.  I haven't blogged in awhile which is crazy, because I have passed a few of my greatest milestones while absent from the blog.  Crazy!

Let's talk about life- we must rewind back to April, I had just finished Student Teaching which was the most difficult time in my life. Phill lived in Logan, I was under incredible stress, and it was just not a wonderful time! I worked hard, and it paid off.  On the last day of my student teaching I signed a contract to work as a History teacher at Mount Ogden Junior High- 8th grade U.S. History, my dream job.  I couldn't believe it had happened so fast! Three weeks later I graduated from college! It was such a surreal day.  One that while growing up and actually attending WSU I never thought would come! I had such an amazing support system my entire way through and it was reflected by those who came and supported me that day. 

Shout out to a few of them: First of all my incredible parents- who sweetly and selflessly paid for me to get my education. I realize how rare this is and what a gift it truly was! I was able to enter my career debt free and I am so grateful to them for that! Not only did they support me financially, but mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  I am so blessed to have such inspiring people to watch over me. 

Second, Phillip- he and I have been "together" since my first day of college, and even when he was on his mission he was always so supportive of me and my goals to graduate and become a teacher.  There were days when I was so stressed that I could barely function and he would get me through it.  I am blessed to have had him by my side throughout the whole experience. 

Third- my awesome family in all their forms! Thank you for all your love and support!

It was truly an amazing day! I loved being able to stand as the following questions were asked during commencement- "how many of you were married during your time here at WSU, how many of you worked full time or part time while here, how many of you double majored, completed a senior thesis, and how many of you are graduating with a job waiting for you." There was so much joy in having these questions encapsulate all I'd accomplished in a few short (seemingly endless)years.

Since that day I started my first teaching job at Mount Ogden Junior High it has been challenging, rewarding, joyful, stressful, and all the up and down emotions that are present in those hormone ridden teenagers I teach!

Life is good.

Comparison is the Thief of Joy.

[insert excuse for not writing a post about my life as of late] I've decided to quit pretending I can stay up to date on my blog, that's crazy. Not to mention its mostly for myself so who cares right?  Lately I have been trying to break down my previously constructed ideals about myself and what I should or shouldn't be. I've started to quote a new mantra to myself whenever I revert back to thinking less of myself based on my misconceptions of worth, "Comparison is the thief of Joy." This quote comes from one of the most bad ass (I mean that in the most respectful way possible) men in history, Theodore Roosevelt.  I mean seriously, the man got shot in the chest on the way to a convention and still went to give his speech before going to the hospital.  He knows what he is talking about. But do I know what I'm talking about, do YOU even know what I'm talking about....probably not I'm being extremely vague.

Here is what I want to say, every day we get up and we start analyzing our lives, making observations: it's too hot in my room, I slept in too late, cool I have an awesome line from my pajamas digging into my fat...these observations constitute our attitude for the majority of our day. We go about our day looking at other people, comparing ourselves to them.  Sometimes the comparison is envious of her slender figure, his amazing car, their baby, clothes, pizza, giant purple people eater... while those comparisons can cheapen the great blessings in your life by blinding you from what you have.  Comparison of others to make yourself feel better can also take away joy and happiness,  "At least I don't look like that," "I get to go out at night, she's stuck at home with her baby," "Another stupid Facebook status about her boyfriend," "What a freak of nature!"  These comparisons we build up in our minds lead to only negative thoughts, negative actions, and negative lives.

I, Megan Christene Brandley, am a major comparer (comparde, comparist, comparess?) I compare on every level, to make myself believe I am better, to wish that I were better, or to just compare.  It sucks away the joy from your life and limits your ability to think positively. We believe our lives should be something that they aren't, we believe we should always be searching for more, achieving more, being more, and while it is good to continuously progress it is always important to live in the here and the now and embrace the amazing ups and downs of life.  I am at a point in my life that I always longed for, I graduated from college, I have a job teaching American History, I am married to my best friend, I have an amazing family, I live by mountains, I'm a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, I didn't have to fight in the hunger games, and I woke up this morning! Why would I want another life? Why would you want a life other than your own.  Fun fact, you get to make your own life there may be external factors that continuously interfere, but you get to decided how you react to those negatives.

I am striving to put aside everything I used to compare about myself to others, everything I used to believe I should be, or what others think I should be, or what I think others think I should be, and be here and now. Comparison is thief of joy, it pits us against one another and against ourselves.  We are each given our individual lives, struggles, successes, and joys.  It takes a conscious effort everyday not to compare ourselves to others. It's a beautiful struggle, and a beautiful life.

In March We Wear Yellow

March is endometriosis awareness month, did I know this?  No, I did not.  Not until my beautiful friend Brittany sent me a link to a hilariously truthful account of endometriosis and all its "perks".  To be honest I rarely, if ever, mention my endometirosis to anyone unless I REAAALLLY know them.  But in the past telling people about my endometirosis hasn't been what I had hoped.  When you open up to someone about a struggle, a painful struggled, you've had as long as you can remember you expect more than a "oh, that sucks," but for some reason the idea that it deals with the down stairs area makes people uncomfortable so it's not talked about, and the truth is it's not cured yet, so why aren't we talking about it?

If you don't know what endo is, then it's like W.B.D.G.G...what's the big deal girl geez?  Endometriosis, as defined by the big boys at MAYO clinic, Endometriosis (en-doe-me-tree-O-sis) is an often painful disorder in which tissue that normally lines the inside of your uterus — the endometrium — grows outside your uterus (endometrial implant). Endometriosis most commonly involves your ovaries, bowel or the tissue lining your pelvis. Rarely, endometrial tissue may spread beyond your pelvic region.

In endometriosis, displaced endometrial tissue continues to act as it normally would — it thickens, breaks down and bleeds with each menstrual cycle. Because this displaced tissue has no way to exit your body, it becomes trapped. When endometriosis involves the ovaries, cysts called endometriomas may form. Surrounding tissue can become irritated, eventually developing scar tissue and adhesions — abnormal tissue that binds organs together.

Endometriosis can cause pain — sometimes severe — especially during your period. Fertility problems also may develop.

Or as I casually define it: Hell hath no furry like the Uterine scorned! 

Those who deal with endometirosis deal with it EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY! The Chronic pain is exhausting, and it can go from moderate pain to drop you to your knees cursing the next.  It is an interesting way of life that hormonally imbalanced, knife jabbing, shooting needle pains down your legs and constant aching, but you look fine so get up and do something woman! 

I was officially surgically diagnosed with endo when I was in high school, but that was a long time coming.  I have had excruciatingly painful periods since the ripe old age of 9...yup, 9. After surgery I started on Lupron, or the crazy shots...6 months of a 17 year old in a drug induced menopause, that was fun for everyone.  I remember that first shot sunk in like a knife in my heart.  Although not sever with treatment, I knew endo had a possibility of preventing me from having children.  I remember sitting quietly on the piano bench in our old house as tears streamed down my face...what if?  What if I can't?  

More shots, more pills, more surgery followed, I strive and suffer every day to prepare myself, hoping and praying that all this pain since the 4th grade will be worth it, that it will all have been for something.  When I used to talk openly about my endo it was to almost justify that I may not wait a long time to have children after I got married.  But why did I feel like I had to justify that decision when it wasn't anyone else's besides mine, my husband's, and God's?  However, there is this defensive stance we take when we are questioned about things that we've fought for, things that people may not even know.  I remember telling a friend that Phill and I probably would not be waiting long because of my endo, in which she replied, "That sucks, you won't really get to have a married life with just the two of you."  I was upset by this, and I got this response a lot whenever asked about the topic, telling me to wait to have children, well guess what for some people that's not an option because it's kids now or possibly kids never.

 To me, having a baby early on in a marriage has never been a bummer, I would have welcomed those two pink lines after our first week of marriage if it meant that all my sacrifice, all my pain had achieved that ultimate goal of motherhood.  I have always wanted to be a mother, everything I have done since I was 15 years old, seeking treatment, has been to become a mother.  

Endometriosis truly should not define a person, and I feel in moments of extreme pain and doubt I have let it control me.  However, our struggles can indeed become our greatest strength and I plan on channeling all of my fight into being a blissfully happy and exhausted mother when the time comes.  

Embrace your battles, and fight like a girl. 

Where Can I Turn for Peace?

There are times in our lives when we feel we are lacking.  Lacking in what? Everything.  That has been me lately.  Student teaching has been the most challenging thing I have ever done add on top of that crippling anxiety, a husband who lives 50 miles away during the week, and the random stresses of life.  It's been hard.

I am in an environment everyday that challenges me, challenges my faith.  My spirituality has taken a nose dive and I know it's because of this large task before me, and I know it is one of the tools of the adversary to remove you from your one source of true peace.  

As I've sat alone most days, rocking, and trying to ward off an anxiety attack so that I could work more a question has come to me repeatedly, where can I turn for peace? 

I would sink lower and lower and ask almost out loud, where can I turn for peace?  I knew that this phrase was not coming to me repeatedly by random, but rather by sweet, personal, divine, design.  I knew it was a song, but I couldn't remember if it was a hymn or not.  This Sunday I sat next to Phill in church, and the sacrament was being passed.  I hadn't been able to go to church for a couple weeks, because of illness.  Again the phrase came to me again, "where can I turn for peace?" I looked it up in the hymn book and there it was.  I read the lyrics and could barely see through the tears forming in my eyes.  It was everything I had been feeling that I had been too angry, too cloudy, too distracted to express myself.  My despair, fear, and doubt all wrapped up in this song, with the answer to my question, "where can I turn for peace?" 

Where Can I turn for peace?

Where is my solace

When other sources cease to make me whole?

When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,

I draw myself apart, 

Searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows,

Where when I languish,

Where, in my need to know, where can I run?

Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?

Who, who can understand?

He, only One.

He answers privately,

Reaches my reaching

In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.

Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.

            Constant he is and kind,

            Love without end.

The last line of the first verse encompasses my emotions that last couple of months.  Searching my soul, trying to remember what it was like to feel that love of my Savior, and my Heavenly Father searching my soul daily, trying to find the answer of where peace could be found. Where can I run, I should have known to run to my Savior when I felt myself so seriously lacking, but that's the true power of the adversary, his ability to alter your belief of your worth.  

He answers privately, reaches my reaching.  In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.  In a chapel on 7th street this Sunday I was reaching, and privately and sweetly He reached back.  Giving me a new motivation to remember that a soul cannot be lacking when it knows where peace can be found.  I am so blessed to be a part of the glorious gospel!  Despite the imperfections of the world, of people, and of myself there is always one constant waiting patiently for our return, no matter how long the absence.  Where can I turn for peace? Savior and Friend, love without end. 

Bragging Rights

I feel like I need to brag.  Every girl who has found that guy should brag.  There are good men out there people and mine is one of them.  My heart is so full every day for the love of one man.  This is cheesy and personal, so if you do not like stuff like this stop reading now, you have been warned.  Phill is my anchor. Phill is my happiness. Phill is my life.  I would not be here today without him.  He gives me purpose and he gives me joy.  I remember one day when we were dating, early on in our relationship, and Phill asked me what I wanted most out of this life.  I replied simply to be happy to find happiness.  He stopped, paused for a second, and said, "no, I think you want to joy."  I thought this was an odd comment at first, aren't joy and happiness interchangeable?  As life moved on and so did we I began to feel a greater happiness, a greater love, and yes, a greater joy.

Phill fights for me every day.  When my anxiety takes me away mentally he is by my side holding me until I come back into my consciousness again asking if I am okay, and he kisses my forehead, squeezes me and says, 'yes baby, I have you, you are okay.'  I am blessed to have him by my side. He makes me feel safe. Safe from trouble, safe from trial, and even safe from myself.
  Phill and I have spent the greater part of our relationship apart, and even now we are married and it is no exception.  He lives in Logan during the week and I stay in Ogden for school.  It has been hard as we both go through the challenges of life on different schedules and feeling so alone at times. But Phill reminds me that all bad things end and there is good waiting for us, there is joy.
 I love my husband more than I could write in a million cheesy words. He has given me the greatest life, the most fulfilling and life changing love.  He has taught me patience and unconditional love.  I am blessed by his hard work and selflessness every day.

I love you.