It Had To Be Written

I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "Oh man, you should write in about your wedding and honeymoon...you can't make that stuff up!"

So in the efforts of getting it written down...I write to you, Internet...my wedding and honeymoon story:

My husband and I were married in a Catholic church.

No matter how I pleaded with him to elope ahead of time, there had just been too much preparation done with the church, flowers, photographers, dresses, guest lists, reception plans...I'm sure if you're not married yourself, you know someone who's gotten married, or at least seen a wedding on TV to get some idea of what I'm talking about here.

I have to back track a couple days before the wedding…

I had my 'hair rehearsal' scheduled for later on in the day. This was well before the munchkin was even thought of in my life. I had plans of sleeping in and then a little shopping before the hair dresser appointment.

At around 5am, my dog (bless his soul-the little guy died of Cancer) at the time was defending the house at the ranch and felt it was crucial to bark his brains out at a nearby porcupine. I laid in bed, tossing and turning, trying my hardest to ignore this incessant barking.

It was June, so I had my bedroom window open as well which didn't help with the noise at all. I fumbled out of bed in my t-shirt and sleeping shorts and stumbled to the window..."Quiettttttttt!"

My commands fell upon deaf doggy ears, because no matter how much I hollered he just continued on.

Grumpy and still quite tired, I went outside to call my dog off this furry creature that was probably just trying to gather it's morning coffee in the best way porcupines can and here my dog was probably annoying the living hell out of it.

So I call and call and finally my dog comes trotting back to me with this goofy look on his face. A good half hour of time has passed now, and I'm really ticked off that my sweet dog has been so naughty, not to mention woken me up far earlier than I had planned..."Bad dog!"

As I was in mid swing to smack his furry hiney, the stench reached my nose. For it had not been a cute porcupine at all! My dog had been barking at a skunk. But by the time my groggy brain had processed this newly discovered information, it was too late. My hand had icky, wet, skunk juice all over it...as the only reason my dog finally came running back was because the skunk had had enough and let my dog know it by graciously spraying him.

In reaction to being smacked on the toosh, my dog leaned up against my legs as to say, 'I'm sorry I didn't come, I love you!"...which would have been sweet and I would have cuddled him, however, his furry side was also completely covered in skunk juice, which he rubbed up against my bare legs!

The next thing I find myself doing is standing in the shower at 5:30am pouring tomato juice all over my arms and legs. Useless information (yet quite valuable in particular instances): Tomato juice cuts the smell of skunk juice. This ~definitely~ was not how I had planned on spending my morning.

I sneak in a few more minutes of sleep after my shower and then get ready for some shopping with my mom before my hair appointment.

As the day progresses though, I find that I’m not feeling so well ~at all~.

A fever sets in.

I’m back in bed, shivering and cold, yet roasting with a 102 degree temperature.

Needless to say, the hair appointment got canceled.

By the next day, which was the rehearsal dinner and meeting most of my husband’s extended family for the first time, I had a full on sinus infection from a reaction to the skunk spray.

To this day, I don’t understand why I didn’t get medication for it. I’m sure there would have been something I could have taken to make it better…but I try to take as little medication as possible and I don’t like going in to the doc or hospitals…so maybe at that time, that’s what I was thinking? But it was honestly, the worst sinus infection I’ve had in my life…I should have gone to the doctor. Period.

The comings and goings of my fevers continued, but I kept as cheery as I could during the rehearsal dinner and the wedding rehearsal at the church.

I partied at our favorite local pub with our bridal party and friends until the wee hours of the morning, and then chatted with my maid of honor until we were too tired to talk any more and at some point fell asleep.

Up at 7am the next morning to get my hair done. Fever is still going.

My hair dresser wouldn’t listen to me, and I was entirely crabby….

Moving along in the story…

Everything was getting prepped at the church.

The photographer was busy taking pictures, despite the late arrival of the flowers.

The choir was rehearsing, despite that being the one request my Father-In-Law had asked ~not~ be done.

The church filled, and it was now time for the wedding party to proceed down the isle.

My mother had made a serious effort to remind me over and over about the bridesmaids holding their flower bouquets upright and not flopped over so that the pictures wouldn’t be ruined…

“Ok ladies,” I say, “Now remember! Hold your bouquets like t h i s not like t-h-i-s.”

And with that second ‘this’ I demonstrated with my large bouquet…what a flopped over bouquet would look like. Little did I know at that time though that my bouquet was actually in two separate parts, so when I tipped it over, the stem part that I was holding remained firmly within my grasp, but the beautiful flowers went flying out onto the floor.

The music had already started. The church had everyone seated quietly waiting with great anticipation to see the Bride.

Only… ~the Bride~ let out a scream. I’m just glad I didn’t yell “Oh $H!T!”.

But when you drop something, what is your first course of action to take? Naturally, to try to catch what’s falling. So I lunged. In my wedding dress. And with lunging, I broke the most important snap I had…the one that was holding my dress up…

It had broke… while I was lunging… and screaming… in a church… that was filled with people waiting quietly for me to walk down the isle.

I remember hearing my wedding coordinator say in a very determined voice, “Now! Someone get me a safety pin NOW!”

And with that, my dress was pinned up the best it could be.

My bouquet was pieced back together.

And on the wedding party marched.

The ceremony started and at some point during it, my husband leans over to me and whispers, “Pull your dress up!! The priest is checking you out!”

I’m trying my best at this point to keep my composure and not start laughing.
When we could finally sit down, my focus was still distracted with our Best Man making faces at me trying to get me to lose it….and I misjudged where my chair was.

Thankfully my husband was watching, and readjusted my chair just in time or I would have landed flat on the floor in my half broken dress in front of all.those.people.

The priest who married us changed.the.ceremony.on.us.

It came as such a surprise to myself and my husband to be sitting up in front of 200 people and have the priest just up and change the ceremony!

He started quizzing the bridal party, “What does marriage mean?”

Everyone was hoping that they wouldn’t be called upon, but everyone was also hoping that the Best Man, who was very hung over wearing a Pepto-Bismol stained tuxedo, would not be called upon either.

Of course, my mind starts swirling…what would I say if he turned to me….

I think everyone’s mind in the wedding party was thinking that…

“What if he asks ME!?”

The nerd of the bunch, the one who had never had a girlfriend, one of our groomsman, actually raised his hand to answer….

My maid of honor was a gem and gave a beautiful answer about God and Unison and lots of other things that were fogged out of my conscious thought because I was still so worried I would be asked next…

Upon later discussion, I asked my husband what he was going to say had he been called on…and leave it up to my husband to be…honest…”I was going to say ‘Unprotected Sex!”…and my response, “I was going to say ‘Having a Good Sense of Humor’.”

More to come…