Tag Archives: wedding

Marriage

Something (or should I say someone) has been bought to my attention, which has made me feel a need to write about not being married and my choice to have my children outside of wedlock.

In 2008, I began planning our wedding.  We had been trying for children for almost a year, and we we’re just biding our time until we were due to be tested.

The date we picked was the 21st of September. We found a venue, sorted out food, found a dress.  Everything was just waiting confirmation when the funds slipped through our fingers and we realised it would be impossible to raise the cash in time.  So we put the wedding back a year.

I then found out I was pregnant at the end of December with a due date of 2nd of September. We knew then that our wedding would have to be put on hold.

Baby was born, money got tighter.

We decided at this point that we didn’t want it to be a big deal that one of our children had been born before we were married.  I mean, it’s not a big deal. But parents can be cruel and kids can get bullied as a result of these things so we made the decision to go ahead and have our second child.

Now, my own opinions on marriage are somewhat biased.  I don’t believe it is necessary to have a piece of paper to tell people we are in a relationship.  I have seen several marriages fall apart due to infidelity. If someone is going to cheat they will do it regardless of marital status, circumstance or even opportunity in some cases! Both my partner and I are free to leave the relationship at any time but stay together because we love each other.

Not saying I wouldn’t like a special day to celebrate our little family, but it can wait.

The Change from the beginning

The big day looms.  Our household of four is soon to become 5.

NOOO I’m NOT having another baby (yet – still have to persuade OH!)

Our friend is moving in with us.

Today I’m going to talk about WHY.  And the WHY is The Big Change.

2011 has turned out to be the Year of Change for our little group of friends, but The Change is part of a chain reaction which I actually kicked off 5 years ago.

When I met OH and we were working in the same place (oh yeah…I will have to tell you about this too) he was in the process of buying a house with his best friend S.  His best friend is in the army and was getting posted out across the world regularly.  When he came home, he would stay with OH’s mum and dad (where OH was also living) so they decided it was time they bought a house.  The arrangement suited them as it meant that OH could get on the property ladder and S would have somewhere to go when he came home.

I didn’t live with OH and S for a long time.  I moved in, and then moved back out again after a fight with S (he actually asked me to come back – not OH).  they paid the mortgage and I rented a room from them.  It worked well…until I got my first blue line on the pee test.

It wasn’t really practical for us to continue living the way we were.  The house (we’ll call it AR) isn’t really the biggest house.  It had three bedrooms, but it was tiny.  It had a downstairs bathroom, which I hated.  Laminate flooring throughout.  It was basically a bachelor pad,  Fine for 2 men and a tom boy, but not so great for babies.  OH decided we would move.

We looked into the possibility of buying AR but quickly discounted that idea for the reasons about and many others. Then we looked at the possibility of S buying OH out and us moving.  The housing market had just crashed, which was highly unfortunate for this part of the transaction as it meant that there was no equity in the house and banks were lending much less.  OH was unable to remove his name from the mortgage as the bank would not let S take on the entire outstanding amount due to a shortfall of about £4000.  He also had to walk away from his initial investment of £10k.

It was a hard decision to make. even though S was paying the mortgage in its entirety after this, it was always a worry as once your name is on the mortgage, whether you actually physically pay for it or not is irrelevant.  If the payments go into arrears, it’s your neck on the line.  And there is no way to write your way out of this.  even if your solicitor writes you a letter to say you are not paying anything towards the mortgage, if it goes to court, you are still liable.  We asked.  It’s shit and was very scary for us as we were taking on another mortgage and couldn’t afford two if something went wrong.

As S didn’t want AR to be empty when he was posted, he asked one of our mutual friends N to move in.

I like N.  He’s awesome.  He’s a good guy.

Life carried on like this for a while and then S met L.

L is originally from Canada.  She’s a lovely, bubbly, very cute girl.  She fit straight in with  our group.  Funny, sweet and good for S, it wasn’t long before she moved in with them.  Then, around 3 months ago, S gets told he is getting posted to Italy.

He didn’t want to leave L here but the only way for them to go together was for them to be married. Cue The Wedding.

Now, N isn’t paying a massive amount of rent to S.  Afterall, he only has one room in the hose.  S knew he could get a lot more renting to a family so, after they couldn’t find anyone else to move in with N he is having to move out.  It made me sad to see the rental sign outside the house that was my home for two years before we moved here, but that is the way life goes.

N is now coming here to become our 5th member.

The Wedding

I had a bad day last Wednesday.  Sadly, it was an inopportune day to have a bad day due to The Wedding.

The day started pretty poorly and my mood rapidly descended into a depressive state.

Let me begin at the beginning. We got up as normal.  Well, pretty normal from what I remember.  The Toddler had a [chest infection] so she was probably later and more drowsy than she would be usually.  Before I’d had a chance to have a shower, we’d gone downstairs for breakfast.  OH was going for a cut throat shave with the groom and as it was only 9 am (The Wedding was not due to start until 2.30 pm) I figured we would have plenty of time to get ready when OH returned.  A cut throat shave was predicted to take an hour.

As with everything I plan (and I really should know this by now!) I was WRONG!

10am came and went.  I was hoping to be relieved soon…and, after a morning of once again leaving me to fend for myself, OH finally returned just after 11 announcing we were giving the groom a lift.

SERIOUSLY?!

Already the relaxed morning with my small family I had envisioned in my head was,wrecked and we now had the added pressures of trying to get everyone ready (including best man and flower girl and eating lunch) in two hours so we could get the groom to the registry office on time.

Cue my blood pressure rising.

I finally stepped in the shower as OH was dressing The Toddler in her ivory dress.

When I plan something revolving around an important date/time/event, I become hyper sensitive to any deviations from the timetable. An hour delay and running round after both kids on my own for the morning was a.massive deviation.  The negativity was already in my tummy, waiting to explode…

And explode it did when, after failing (notice the excessive use of this word!) To get my hair correct and OH badgering me to sort out children as well as myself I had reached the end of my already short fuse.  He was desperately trying to squeeze her into her flower girl dress and was struggling.  And he asked me to help and…

AAARRRRRGGGHHHH

I hurled the hairbrush in his general direction, found some jeans and a T-shirt and went downstairs to put myself in front of the TV for the evening.

It took a lot of begging for him to get me to.put my dress on, slap on some makeup and get going.

I didn’t want to go.  I didn’t want to see other people. My temper was already frayed. I already felt abandoned and insecure.  So I probably would have been better off staying at home.

Nevertheless, we got to the registry office and met OHs parents.  OH unloaded the Toddler from the car…in a car park.  His mum took over looking after her as OH had to go and do best man things and I tried desperately to persuade O it was a good idea to feed before we went in.

I was lucky.  He fed. Doubly lucky…he shit himself. Great. A big one.  A nearly down the leg job. So I we got the pushchair out, shoved him in it and I began to change him.

The bride arrived and the car wouldn’t come in as she didn’t want anyone to see her.  I was still changing a mustardy bum.  No help from OH.

I got his nappy on, covered his legs with a shawl and went inside.

Once we were all,stood outside the door I realised the grooms step sister was wearing the same dress. Oh God. Sigh.  Ok, I resigned myself to the fact that this was going to.be one of those days.  I shoved Os shorts back on, the doors were opened and I found a seat at the back.

Turns out O didn’t want to watch his sister do her thing and began howling, so I took him back out to the car.

I fed.  I cried. I fed some more.  OH came out to say they hadn’t started and I could still go in. I refused. OHs mum came out five minutes later and I told her O wouldn’t settle and it wasn’t that big a deal.

I lied. He slept calmly on my shoulder the entire ceremony that I couldnt see from my not ideal vantage point of the passenger seat of my Ford Focus.

I cried more.  Made sure my make-up hadn’t run. Regretted not going in as I had missed an opportunity to promote breastfeeding in a wedding ceremony.  OHs BIL had to bring one of the Cousins out too which made me feel better.

Everyone was so proud of the Toddler.  Even I had to admit she looked adorable even though daddy hadn’t been able to tame her mop of wild curls.

I wanted to come home.  I wasn’t in the mood for partying, particularly as I knew what it would entail.  The same thing it normally entails.  Me looking after the kids and him getting to have a laugh.

This stubbornness/ lack of wanting to feel further abandoned and feeling awful, tired, sad, insecure and generall shit resulted in us fighting in the carpark in front of OHs parents.  Grandma and Grandpa took the Toddler in and OH and I had a chat.

He managed to persuade me to come in.  I chucked O in his sling and went in.

On the whole it wasn’t too bad.  My jangling nerves and feelings of abject shame and guilt took a little while to calm. I did look after her as she was still suffering from her chest infection and needed cuddles and kisses and OH, as usual, went to socialise.

It ended fairly well, but just serves as a reminder that no matter how much better I am now, I can still feel the irrational anger and self loathing enough to make me miss important moments.

The time before the day before

OH was the Best Man for The Wedding and as such, it was his duty to arrange the stag night. The stag night was last Tuesday. Yes, the day before the wedding…

This time, the stag night consisted of a curry and a couple of pints in a local (So I’m informed) but last time…well, last time he went to a stag it wasn’t quite so simple.

It was in the days before children. I have always suffered from insecurity and depression, which was normally set off by my appearance and worrying I would never be good enough for whoever I was with.

This stag night was the typical stag night; meal, drinks and then strip club.

I won’t go into details about what other people got up to at this stag night but I do know that there were refusals for dances.

OH came home and I was already in bed. I asked him if he had had a dance and he said yes. Ok ten points for honesty, but really? I remember I smacked him. In fact, I flew at him, seeing red in that very instant. He went on to say it had been a topless dance purchased by his friend.

I asked why he hadn’t refused. He said he didn’t know.

That night almost ended our relationship. I stayed at the house that night and then packed my stuff and went back to mums. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get that one dance with some random girl dangling her (probably much larger than mine) boobies in his face had set me back about 5 years in my insecurities and it was going to take some hard work to rebuild.

I don’t remember how long we stayed away from each other. I knew I needed time to heal from this latest blow as I felt like I’d been betrayed, stabbed through the heart. I’ve always trusted OH implicitly and never thought he would have been able to hurt me like that. Then BAM. He did.

I tore up the cards he gave me, and threw my engagement ring at him.

Finally, one night, I relented and went back. We talked. A lot. We probably cuddled. We may have even taken it further. I don’t remember. All I know is that I’m still wary when a stag night is mentioned, even though my circumstances are totally different now.

I’m glad I went back. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have had my children, my house and a very supportive man in my life who may be lazy, but seems to agree with even my most hairbrained schemes!