My Wedding Day

As part of my Day Zero Project, I have vowed to write about the three most significant days of my life. Number one was the birth of my daughter. Number two on the list is my wedding day:

I awoke on the morning of the 23^rd May 2009 to the sun streaming through the curtains. Relief washed over me with the rays, while simultaneously, my stomach shot down to my feet and back up to my throat. Today was the day I was getting married. Gulp.

Having made the decision to plan the wedding ourselves and have the reception in two venues, (neither of which were experienced in weddings) the week before had been slightly manic. Numerous phone calls were made confirming last minute details, nearly one hundred boxes were made up and filled for the wedding favours, a few first dance practice sessions were squeezed in and copious to do lists were made. But the day was finally here, everything that could be done had been done and it was finally time to enjoy our special day.

One of the biggest worries, as with all weddings in this country, was the weather. So as I skipped to the hairdressers at 10 am in a vest, little denim skirt and flip flops, I had the biggest grin on my face. I must have done something right, somewhere. It was perfect.

I came back from the hairdressers to a house full of people. I thanked my lucky stars again when my Mum told me that yes, The Whirlwind had listened and taken note of The Plan and had her nap. There would have been nothing worse than an over tired toddler on our wedding day. I put my make up on and slipped into The Dress. It felt amazing.  I just hoped The Hubster would like it.

One by one people left the house until just my Dad and I remained. I don’t remember much about the journey to St Andrew’s Hall.  I would imagine it involved me trying to contain the bubble of excitement and nervousness in my tummy and trying to think about anything else other than the hundred odd pairs of eyes that would be upon me very shortly. I expect my Dad joked about and gave me some advice in a calm manner. Probably advice about breathing and walking slowly down the aisle. Advice which I completely ignored. 

Me giving Usain Bolt a run for his money.

Despite being a very emotional person, I really didn’t expect to cry. But as the gentle chords of Finlay Quaye’s Love Gets Sweeter began, the door opened and I caught sight of The Hubster –to-be at the end of the aisle, I welled up. Thoughts of my mascara running just about stopped the tears brimming over, and I practically sprinted down the aisle.

We did the ceremony bit. We exchanged the words we had carefully chosen. The Hubster’s Mum confidently read out a meaningful piece, my brother did an equally good job at reading out a poem we had jointly written, drunkenly, one night. The Whirlwind ran to the front and hid under the curtain. We did the ‘I do’ bit, (or was it ‘I will’?!) and were pronounced man and wife. We signed the register while (unknown at the time) Ronan Parke wooed the audience with his version of Stand By Me. 

Signing our lives away ;-)

We walked out to Baby I Love You, The Ramones. This time, with the terrifying bit over and my new husband by my side, I strolled down the aisle with a genuine grin on my face. I don’t think my face was without that smile for the rest of the day!

The next couple of hours were spent having photos taken, catching up with old friends and drinking Pimms in the lovely courtyard of St Andrew’s Hall. 

One cheeky little flowergirl (The Whirlwind)

Soon it was time to venture to the next venue, so all one hundred of us headed off through the city to the pub where we went on our first date. 

I loved this walk!

There were four great speeches, by the best man, The Hubster, my Mum and my Dad. The Hubster’s parents had very generously booked us a holiday as a wedding gift, but we didn’t know where to. They presented us with a card that told us we were off to Venice on Monday. We were thrilled to bits! Then our friends presented us with another card that told us we were set to spend our wedding night in a gorgeous hotel around the corner. We were feeling very lucky!

The next couple of hours were spent floating around catching up with people, drinking champagne and trying to get a bit of buffet in. At around 6 o’clock we went and checked into to our stunning room for the night. There was a bottle of champagne on ice so we sat on the sofa and had a toast. Our first moment alone as man and wife. I topped up my make up and then we were off again. I remember distinctly walking back through the corridors and stopping at a window to look over the beautiful sunlit city. With my new husband behind me with his arm around me, we savoured the moment. The day had gone so perfectly, and we had the whole of the evening ahead of us.

We walked hand in hand from St Giles Hotel to the next venue The Arts Centre, gaining lots of congratulatory smiles along the way from strangers. I suppose it’s not every day you see a bride and groom, alone, walking through the streets. We arrived at the venue and we were so amazed at how good the place looked. The balloons, the tables, the cake, everything was just how we had hoped and more. It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it was simple and pretty. We greeted our new guests and then went our separate ways to catch up with old friends.

At 8 o’clock we had our first dance, “When the Stars go Blue’, Ryan Adams. My plan with the first dance was to get everyone a bit tipsy so no-one would notice how bad we were. The Hubster however, had other ideas. He instigated three ‘practices’ the week before. The practices didn’t go brilliantly I think it’s fair to say, mainly due to my two left feet. What we hadn’t accounted for was that of course, with my long dress no-one would see the completely different little jig my feet were doing.

The Hubster grinning and bearing it as I tread on his foot again.

 On the second dance, ‘On a Day Like This’, Elbow, everyone came and joined in.  Straight after Monkey Spanner, the reggae/ska band we had booked kicked in with their first number. We both had a super time dancing with each other and friends.

After some dancing we soaked up some of the alcohol with a delicious hog roast. Soon after followed the cutting of the cake. The rest of the night was spent chatting, drinking and dancing to the music we had so carefully selected.

It was a sad moment when we realized we were down to the last few guests. But we were determined for the night not to end so we carried on partying at a local pub, Delaneys until the small hours. At some point we staggered back to the hotel, exhausted, a little worse for wear, but exhilarated that we were at last man and wife, and that we had had the most fantastic day ever celebrating with our nearest and dearest. It had been a day to treasure and remember for the rest of our lives.  

Thought I'd finish with this one rather than the one taken from the end of the night. It's a bit more flattering!