Wow. What a week. Or 10 days. I’m not sure of exactly how long it’s been since I last checked in with myself and actually worked out how I’m feeling, but it feels like a while. I’ve become rather dependent on this process to keep me sane, and as I’ve been feeling anything but over the last week or so, it’s definitely healthy that today I have the time and a bit of clarity of mind (rather than simply feeling so sick I don’t want to move) to see what’s really going on in the kitchen.
I’m married! How weird! Actually, the weirdest thing about it is that I really like the feeling. I didn’t think it would make any material difference – and I suppose it doesn’t – but there’s something about making that commitment to each other that really cements your path ahead. I was really struck by just how much it affected me emotionally to stand in the registry office and say the words and make that commitment. It probably seems like an odd thing to say, but my initial view of it was very much “get in, say a few words, then eat.” In reality, it was one of the most profound experiences of my life. Fortunately, in the run up to the event, I didn’t process just how important a step it actually was (when you’ve been on the rollercoaster of a 10 year relationship it’s easy to think that you’ve been through it all), but when I saw my husband to be standing there, ready to commit his life to me, and vice versa.. It hit me that it was one of those life – defining moments that is not to be taken lightly.
That said, I am glad I didn’t take it all TOO seriously in the short planning stages, or I would have gone mad with the stress and pressure of it all. Somehow, looking at it as a mere formality, and basically a party and an excuse to get all our friends & family together, made it all seem far less intimidating than it actually was. In many ways, the distraction of being pregnant was a huge help too. So much of my anxiety was around whether I’d have to run off to the bathroom to be sick mid-vow, the absolutely tragic possibility of a miscarriage happening on or around the day of the wedding, or the potential sighting by eagle eyes of some weight gain or a slight bump arousing family drama of the magnitude of an Asian soap drama (complete with extended reaction shots), that there was simply no room to be overly concerned about whether the flowers matched the dresses matched the invites or what my hair was going to look like on the day. It became a matter of mere survival, and everything else was a mere bonus. Fortunately for me, there were many bonuses, and while I had every confidence that our favourite people would make the day an incredible one, I couldn’t have anticipated having quite such a perfect day. I almost felt like I hadn’t earned it. People spend years planning the perfect wedding, spend thousands of pounds getting it just right, and can’t enjoy their day, and here we were… Planned in a few weeks, low budget, e-invites, a party at our flat instead of a formal reception…Surely you have to hit a certain stress level before you earn the right to a great wedding?! Ha. Having been through it, and having had a wonderful wedding day, I feel awful for those brides & grooms who come out of their wedding feeling frazzled and stressed and as though the day wasn’t theirs at all. I fully advocate the 6/7 week timeline for planning. There just isn’t time to worry about insignificant details. The only thing that ACTUALLY matters is the guest list (and a happy bride & groom, of course).
Anyway, I think I’m just starting to process what’s happened. Slowly. The nausea and fatigue has been awful for the past couple of days (possibly made worse by the result of the EU Referendum), so I’ve been a complete waste of space and my brain hasn’t really been processing anything properly. Everything feels like a gargantuan effort, but I keep reminding myself that if I am feeling this way, the Olive is doing stuff, and things are on track. It will all be worth it.
I’m worried that today will become another hole of a day and I’ll just end up spending it on the sofa watching awful home improvement programmes and generally getting worked up about how much I have to DO and whether I’ll actually be able to cope when I get bigger and have to go through labour and then actually raise a child. There are so many reasons why I want to get through the first trimester, and quickly. I want to stop feeling sick. I want to stop feeling so damn tired. I want at least part of my life back. I want to get through this 1 in 3 chance of miscarrying phase because if I’m going through all of this and it ends… I’m not actually sure I’d be able to handle the thought of going through it again.
Ha. Now I sound like a real self pitying so and so. It does seem to be what happens to me when I’m tired though. I just start to feel really sorry for myself. The good news is, I’m too tired to rant and rave about anything I’m angry or annoyed about, so in some ways, feeling sorry for myself and only having the energy to do that is no bad thing.
Argh. I’m going to get up and DO something now. Can’t spend the day on the sofa again!