In less than 10 weeks, I was going to be walking down the aisle with my older man, Keegan. I had won the battle over where we would have our wedding—in Pennsylvania near my friends and family. Keegan wasn’t pleased at first, because he and his family wanted to have the wedding in D.C. But as usual, I got what I wanted.
I had hoped a smaller Pennsylvania wedding would cut down on the extensive guest list, too. Or so I thought. His parents blew a gasket when they found out what I had done. The deposit was non-refundable, so it was set. It put a kink in our relationship, but it was worth the battle.
At that point, I began working on my list of invitations. I wanted a small and intimate wedding, so I restricted our wedding budget to about $6,500. Not because we had to, but because I didn’t want it to be a spectacle. His parents were irate about that as well. I refused to allow them to pay for anything either, but they went behind my back and paid for my cakes.
My mother designed all of the centerpieces and silk flower bouquets that myself and the bridesmaids carried. I requested silk flowers, because I wanted to be able to keep and reuse the bouquet and centerpieces. It was economical and they wouldn’t wilt. But of course, his family looked down on that—they said it wasn’t “classy enough.”
Their comments didn’t slow me down, but they did hurt. I vented and raged about it to my best friend and confidant Laura. She listened carefully and was a neutral party in the whole ordeal; when it came down to it, she had my back and our best interests at heart. Despite the pushback from Keegan’s family, I had fully taken over my wedding planning. I orchestrated a cookie table, cakes, flowers, decorations, and the venue, and the invitations were sent to about 200 people.
The “hens” on Keegan’s side of the family were a bit miffed that I did everything on my own, but he later told me that despite their disappointment, they were actually impressed, because they didn’t think someone so young would be able to manage planning a nice wedding, taking care of a baby, and working full-time.
We were about four weeks out from the wedding when I decided to try on the dress I had bought right after we got engaged. It didn’t fit. I had lost too much weight everywhere except my boobs—my boobs were bigger than they had ever been. You can’t let out material that was never taken in. So, I had to buy a new dress.
This started a whole new argument, because the meddling monster-in-law had purchased a nice dress for the baby that was kind of similar to my original wedding dress. That meant that I would be confined to just one type, color, and sheen of a dress in order for it to look right.
Well needless to say, that didn’t happen. Money wasn’t an issue, but because I had learned to live frugally and enjoy luxuries in the right ways, I headed straight for the clearance rack at David’s Bridal. The shop clerk showed me a few dresses, but nothing was quite what I had in mind. Then, at the very back of the store, something suddenly caught my eye…