We got married on October 24, 2009 and the days leading up to the wedding were pretty uneventful. Scott and I had just found out that I was pregnant and I was doing my best to stay as calm and stress-free as possible. All the major details were ironed out, our honeymoon was booked, and the only thing left to do was show up at the church and "get it done".
Our rehearsal and dinner went really well {with the exception of one of my bridesmaids dropping the ivory part of her dress in a mud puddle...props to my mom for saving what NONE of us thought could be salvaged and cleaned} and, afterwards, Scott and his groomsmen went back to our house to do whatever it is they did and my bridesmaids and I headed back to my parents' house for the night. The girls and I got set up and ready for bed, and I remember being so excited and so nervous for the next day. We woke up the next morning, and my parents had donuts and coffee ready for all of us. I munched on a donut and drank copious amounts of coffee {because every bride should have the caffeine shakes on her wedding day} while waiting for my makeup artist to arrive. The plan was for everyone to have their makeup done at the house, then head over to the salon to get our hair done. Long story short, the makeup artist got lost, was absurdly late, and we ended up rushing to the salon to have our hair done and then rushing like a bunch of madwomen back to the house to get our makeup done before we had to leave for the church. Because this is me we're talking about and because I'm
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| My parents |
I remember feeling so flustered because I was running late like always and I'd been determined to be on time for my wedding day. My grandmother, my sister, my mom and I were planted in my parents' bedroom with the photographer so he could capture a few photos of me getting ready while my bridesmaids and flower girl came in and out of the room getting ready. My grandmother was spraying the hell out of my hair and my mom and sister were both cinching up my dress to within an inch of it's life, and I distinctly remember looking in the mirror and thinking, Oh my God, this is really happening.
The photographer insisted on a few more pictures at home and, honestly, I was totally okay with it. It was raining outside and I had no desire to try and stuff my beautiful white dress in the limo without dragging it through a puddle or sliding all over the place in my heels.
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| My grandparents |
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| My {pregnant} sister and me |
We all made it successfully into the limo without incident, rain, heels and all. The church was about a 10 minute drive from my parents house and I spent the entire ride trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. We'd been together for 7 years by this time and had spent the last 2 planning this wedding, but I still couldn't believe that Scott and I were actually getting married. I kept trying to picture him standing on the altar in his tux, but I just couldn't. I worried about tripping on my way down the aisle, or passing out because, good lord, my dress was tied tight and heavy, and I was suddenly feeling really hot and shaky and definitely regretting the amount of coffee I'd consumed that morning. And then we were pulling up to the church and everyone was jumping out of the limo and running for cover from the rain and it was go time.
My bridesmaids and I were piled into the vestibule of the church, waiting for our cue to go. I watched them walk down the aisle one by one, and for a minute I was just consumed with nerves. I honestly didn't think I'd make it down the aisle without passing out and started wondering if there was any way at all I could just stay there in that vestibule, without anyone watching me, until the ceremony was over. And then my last bridesmaid started down the aisle and I got a glimpse of Scott waiting for me at the altar and, just like that, the nerves were gone. I was getting married. To my best friend. My favorite person. And he looked so handsome and so happy standing up there. And I just wanted to be up there next to him, smiling at him and exchanging our vows and being called husband and wife. Pachelbel's Canon in D started playing and I just remember looking at my dad and saying, "God, I hope I don't trip. Whatever you do, don't let me fall", and then I took a deep breath and we started walking.
The trip from my end of the aisle to the altar took all of, maybe, 20 seconds. But in those 20 seconds time stood still for me and our entire relationship played out in my mind from the very beginning. That very first day we met. Those first fluttery does he like me? days. Meeting each other's families. Arguments and disagreements and making up. Holidays. Vacations. All the drives back and forth to each other's houses after we'd moved out of the college dorms. The stress of trying to keep a relationship going when we lived apart and were both student-teaching and trying to finish up our degrees while working part-time jobs and very rarely seeing each other. The night I thought we were going to break up for good. The day we graduated college with no jobs and no money and no idea what the hell we were supposed to do now. The day we moved in together...and then a few weeks later when we lost power and our bathroom toilet exploded and we had to clean everything in the dark. Kisses. Hugs. Promises made and sweet words spoken. The night Scott proposed. The months we spent planning our wedding--choosing our colors and flowers and cake and planning our honeymoon. Tears. Smiles. Laughter. The smile on Scott's face two weeks earlier when he found out he was going to be a father. The previous night when he kissed me and told me he couldn't wait to marry me in the morning. By the time I made it down that aisle the only thing I wanted to do was to marry that man.
I don't even remember what the priest said or the psalms that were read. I do remember saying my vows and putting Scott's ring on his finger. I remember looking up at him and knowing that, even though we had no idea what was going to happen in the future and in spite of some of the things that happened in the past, we were going to be okay. More than okay. Even if we were dirt poor and living in a box on the street.
Before I knew it, the ceremony was over and Scott and I were making the trek back down the aisle hand in hand. I remember looking up into the choir loft and seeing all of my preschoolers {who we'd invited to the church}smiling and waving at me. And I was just so damn happy.
In between all that happiness, our limo left without us and my sister and brother got in a fight with the driver and Scott's aunt fell and whacked her arm at the buffet. But in between all of that was more love and more joy than I ever could have imagined for my wedding day. Scott was finally my husband and we were surrounded by our family and friends. The food was great, the music was awesome, and the entire evening was fun. More than that, we were ready to spend the rest of our lives together, corny as that sounds {and, believe me when I say that it's corny as hell}.
I'm sure that every bride swears she'll never forget her wedding day, and I'm no exception. It was one of the best days of my life, and one that I'd happily live over and over again. Five years later, I still remember that day very clearly, and I'll never forget how happy I was. I know it's not a lot of time to have passed but it sometimes feels like forever. When we first got engaged, my mom kept asking Scott if he was "sure" that this is what he wanted to do and, back then, I was so angry that she was questioning him and us and our commitment. But as we started planning the wedding, I realized that she was asking him that because marriage is such a big commitment. It's not a "well, let's give it a shot and if it doesn't work out, there's always divorce" type of thing. It's for life. Forever. My mom wanted to make sure that we were both prepared for the ups and the downs that come with married life...and there have been a lot. But there's never been a day when I questioned our marriage or my husband, and I count my blessings every day.
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