The day … photo version

It was such an incredible day .. I will post more information when my euphoria levels come down and I can string a sentence together that does not use the word “awesome” or “perfect” at least three times, in the same sentence.

It was such a great day.  It went so well.  It had so many laugh out loud and cry because it is so beautiful moments.  I honestly can say, that we could not have wished for a better day. 

We were surrounded by our friends and family who literally stood around as we said “I do..” – so many unbelievable moments, I will share when I get a chance to post properly.

In the interim, here are some quick preview images.

Moments before leaving the guest house … physically unable to smile at this point ….

My boots to wear as alternate when we go skipping through damp grass … how brilliant are these boots?  Thanks Pick ‘n Pay!!

This is us walking out of the chapel … Connor has moved out of frame in this photograph ..

Here is a family photograph of the Barlow family ….

Kennith and I – love this photograph – Megan Hughes has done a fabulous job as per usual. 

Mr and Mrs Barlow …..

Absolutely love this shot … can’t wait to see the rest of the photographs …

And there is the shot you know you are going to put on a canvas, this may be the one.

Random images

The day dawns …

17 July : The morning dawned, I was excited that I got to wake up to peace and quiet … I had booked myself into a guest house for the evening of the 16th. 

If we discount the fact that I had been freezing the night before, and had to contend with a leaking water bottle, it was all quite pleasant to have one night to myself.

I lay there for a few moments toying with whether I should chill and have a long lie in, but then my brain registered the day ahead.  I ran a bath and cautiously headed to open the curtain to check the weather.

July is legendary for very few dry sunny day, and generally weather reports that predict chilly weather with rain, which might explain why it is not widely regarded as a great wedding month.

Of all the things I can control, it would seem the weather was not one of them.  I had made peace with the fact that there was a good chance I was going to be facing torrential downpour and gale-forced winds. 

I flung back the curtain was greeted by shiny-and-oh-so-happy-I -had-a-song-in-my-heart blue skies and not a breath of wind – hells bells, how did we get so lucky!! I might have whooped a bit.  If I was on line I might even have used a smily faced emoticon at this point – I was truly thrilled.

Photographer arrived, flowers arrived, makeup artist arrived, everything was dead on track and going ridiculously well, in spite of my predicting doom and gloom. 

I was getting makeup and hair done.  Sipping a glass of champagne as I dissolved half a dozen Rescue tablets under my tongue.  I sat there slowly gaining confidence that this day might just work.

It was all a carefree morning, buoyed along by alcohol and medication. 

At some point I asked for a time check – 11h30 – I pooped a bit in my new white lace knickers.  We were meant to be at the chapel at 12h15!

Got dressed quickly – as quickly as one can when one is getting corsetted into a rather poofy off-white dress.

Around then I started to panic …. not polite panic, but totally stupid I-am-out-of-my-mind panic. 

Dress was on, shoes were on, makeup was on, hair was done.

I had a bos blomme, everything was perfect, but my mind decided that about now was time to leave the realm of calm and enter total PANIC station.

Shame poor photographer. 

She was trying so very hard to get “peaceful bride before wedding photographs” …. all she got was “totally stressed bride who physically was not able to smile” photographs.

We managed to get ourselves clean, had more Rescue tablets, and got my arse into a car to go to the wedding.

We’re in the car, Joyce up front with Leon driving, me in the back, with Georgia kitted out as flower girl. 

We are drive out of the guest house, and Georgia pipes up: “Let’s go find a wedding!!”

Yes, lets …..

It’s been a week ….

I really felt that it was the stress of whether the cake would be crap or whether the make-up artist would call and say that she had just woken from a drunken orgy and would not make it on Saturday the 17th.

I was also sure that it was all the details that was keeping me awake and making me anxious.

It really wasn’t the stuff on the day that I was worried about.

I had cross-references everything, checked them off my list, checked again, and then outsourced the third check to a second person.

I really was sure that there was nothing within reason that could go wrong – short of me not arriving, Kennith not arriving, or the marriage officer deciding today was a good day to go for a surf.  I had the details sorted (and rechecked).

But worried I was.

I had been struggling with insomnia in various forms for about a month, but two weeks ago, the insomnia got up to a new level.  I was probably sleeping two hours a night if I was lucky, and facing each day totally exhausted.

The week before on my hen night I ended up in the bathroom hugging the toilet bowl after less than 4 glasses of wine.  It was not pretty, it was not pleasant – and I felt like death.  Bear in mind I often have 4 glasses of wine with my muesli in the morning.

This Tuesday I woke up at about 1am, and spent several hours clinging to the toilet bowl.  This time none of the girls from the hen party were there.  It was just me and my rather grubby blue bathrobe, and the not so clean toilet bowl.

I hurled and hurled, and when I could not dry heave any more, headed to bed, and lay there to stare at the ceiling until the sun came up.

Why is it that after a sleepless night, you always fall dead asleep 5 minutes before your alarm clock goes off? 

Wednesday and Thursday night my body decided that it did not need sleep at all.  Excellent plan, which might have explained why Friday dawned with me acting like a cocaine addict without a fix.

Everyone kept stroking my shoulder and patting my head and saying “don’t worry…”

I really was not worried about the stuff.

I was worried that on the seventeenth of July two thousand and ten, I was going to don an off-white dress and trot down an aisle of sorts, and stand in front of all our friends and family and say “I do…”

When you have fought so long and hard against the concept of marriage, as I have, and for so long, it comes as a bit of a suprise that you are willing to throw all your pre-conceived notions of this rather dated institution, giggle like a school girl and skip down an aisle.

I was beyond scared shitless about the notion of getting married.  I stand before you on the eve of my wedding (post a bit late, but work with me here) and I am so scared I am shaking and feeling nauseous.

I know it will be okay, as I am too scared to run …. but here I am any the way … breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out …. find brown bag as I am hyper-ventilating ….