Being a first respnder's wife means sharing my husband with a second family-the brave men and women he works alongside. The word family has never meant blood for me.

It's the poeple who check in with you, support you, and truly would do whatever they can to help you. From what I have witnessed over the years that is exactly what first respnders are-family.

From cracking joking with the dispatchers for waking them up at 2AM for a false alarm that went off, hitting the weights at the gym together, or being there to just listen because they understand both the good and the bad.

I hear names of people that I have no idea who they are, but I am grateful they make the job more enjoyable for my husband and are able to lend a listening ear. If you are one of those first responders thank you for having a heart that cares and for making this world a better place by being you.

There is a small fraction (at least that's what it feels like) of people who understand what goes on behind the scenes, but the first responder families are there for eachother no matter what.

They get what it feels like to see your husband exhausted from the day only to respond to the pager without hesitation.

They understand a microwavable plate with half eaten leftovers is normal.

They get the feeling of lonely when all the responsibilities are done and now you just wait for them to come back home.

The amount of support and love I received from wives, daughters, and sisters of first responders just saying that they felt seen and heard from my latest blog post Today My Heart is Heavy has showed me how quiet we are and wondering if anyone else feels the same or are we just crazy. I mean I might be a little crazy when it comes to loving my husband but when he is as great as they come it makes sense why I am :)

I believe so strongly in mental health that I know keeping our feelings inside seems easy, but there will come a day when you go to stuff another one in and it doens't fit-it explodes. I refuse to let my kids get the blow back because I was too scared to talk about the hard feelings or in this case write about them even if it is just me who reads these thoughts.

I guarentee I could message any first responder wife right now and say I need to talk and even though I am pretty introverted when it comes to everything I know they would be willing to listen and talk because they get it. They understand how you want to fix and make things better so bad, but some things you just can't. The only thing you can do is pray for them. These are the moments that I pray for faith because nothing tests your faith more than when tragedy strikes.

Trust is hard. But I have to trust that his fellow first respnder family will take care of him if "things hit the fan." Winds change directions and a fire can get out of control. Maybe that will be the next thing I decided to journal about...the time my husband almost didn't come back

home-dang even just typing those words out gives me a terrible feeling in my stomach. But the thing is I do trust his firefighter family to take care of him if a fire gets out of control. I trust the sheriff department to protect him if things go south when he is undercover. I trust the dispatchers to get him the help he needs as fast as they possibly can. I trust the paramedics to do everything they can to save his life if the time ever came.

I don't trust easily but the first responder family is one I trust when the pager goes off and my entire heart runs out the door they will do everything they can to bring him back home safe.