A year ago today, I slept terribly and finally got out of bed before dawn. I sat up and looked around the room. Two of my best friends were sleeping in the room, and I didn’t want to wake them. So I sat there quietly, took very deep breaths, and tried not to think about anything. I could hear my family downstairs, my brother preparing French Toast and extra bacon, because that’s what I had asked for. My hair smelled like beer from the raging party the night before.
I climbed out of bed– the last time I have slept alone– and found some warm socks, and headed downstairs in a total haze. Everyone kept smiling at me, and I just kept looking down at the floor, closing my eyes, and trying desperately to believe that this was real life. The awkward girl from high school locked inside me kept saying, “No way is this happening. Its all been one huge jokes-on-you terrible lie.”
But it WAS real life.
A few hours later, I looked like this:
Most of my wedding day is a total blur at this point. I remember coming around the corner and seeing my Dad, and we both cried. I remember we lined up for family pictures, and that was the only time that day that I let myself miss my little sister and wish that she was there.
I remember when we were lined up to walk down the aisle, and the band started playing, and my six year old nephew turned around and admired my regalia and said, “You are so beautiful!…… I wish I was a girl.”
And I remember coming down the stairs and seeing Mitch waiting for me. I remember that I couldn’t even make eye contact with him, because I was too emotional. I remember that when we finally made it down the aisle, and he took my hand from my Dad’s, I felt like my soul was breathing a sigh of relief. I remember dancing with my new husband, I remember kissing him so much that my lips hurt.
On my wedding day, I remember thinking that there is no way that I could ever EVER possibly be happier.
But today is more than that.
We’re good with the TMI here on the Neeped blog, so most of you all ready know– today, one year ago, is the day that I got pregnant.
So, I was wrong on my wedding day, when I thought that it was the happiest day of my life and I would never be happier and “So This is Love” and all that good stuff.
When I was pregnant with Maren, I remember being scared about how I was going to love her– because I was SO in love with Mitch, I didn’t know how I could possibly have room to love anyone else. And now, I picture my love like a force field that stretches to the end of the sky when I want it too. And sometimes the weight of it feels like it might crush me, but I need it to be that heavy so that I know that its there.
This morning we celebrated in a pretty typical Mitch and Adrienne fashion. I made Mitch cupcakes while he went and bought us coffee. Then, while Maren napped, we snuggled on the couch and I begged Mitch not to divorce me, no matter how dramatic I become, and he promised me he wouldn’t. Then I gave him his present and he pretended like he didn’t get me anything, and then it turned out that he actually didn’t get me anything. Then we ate more cupcakes and watched Community until Maren woke up.
I never thought I’d be the type to celebrate anniversaries. Mitch and I never celebrated them when we were dating. But today was kind of nice, licking chocolate frosting off my fingers while we listened to the music we played at our ceremony and talked about the first time we had to introduce the other as “my husband” or “my wife.” And then we almost got to fall asleep together before Maren woke up, and then all three of us snuggled on the couch while she ate a bottle.
Also this morning we looked at one of our first pictures together. It was taken in 2005, at our choir formal. Mitch is 19. 🙂 What I love best about the photo, though, isn’t in the picture.
Mitch and I broke up for about nine months in the middle of our relationship, and during that time, I had one of those crazy nights with my girlfriends and cut up all the photos of us. This picture I cut straight down the middle– but I kept the other half. So then when we got back together, I just got out my Scotch tape and fixed it up.
Mitch and I were laughing about it and I said, “I don’t know why I kept the other half.”
And he said, “Because you knew.”
And he’s right. I guess I did.