As this is my first attempt at writing a blog, I’m not holding out great hopes for my first posts being barn burners. I do however think it makes sense to provide some context for how I met my wife. And also explain how we very rapidly came to be a family of four with two wonderful, handsome, loud, mucky & grey hair inducing boys to show for our troubles.
Meeting the woman who would later become my wife back in 2021 (though not much later, as you will soon discover…) we embarked upon a very brief courtship (three dates!) before I subsequently “stopped bothering to go home” as she would put it, and we began to live together. We both very quickly established in the early talking stages that we wanted a kids, and given that we were both in our thirties when we met, maturity for the most part wasn’t a hindrance in thinking about starting a family.
We both have stable and decent careers, mine working in IT across a number of different organisations, and my wife working in Nursing and mental health. The both of us also held marriage as something that would form a key anchor in the pursuit of starting a family, so after proposing to E.M. in spectacularly romantic fashion (in the living room, on bended knee of course) in 2022, the planning for our 2023 Summer wedding began in earnest.
The Wedding, and a grape sized guest
The time from engagement to marriage was a blur. I’d changed jobs three times in quick succession, and E.M. had also embarked upon a new career. With this in mind, it’s safe to say we were spinning a great many plates! It didn’t take long for us to decide that my wife’s childhood church would be the choice of venue for the ceremony, as it held a strong sentimental and family connection for her. Top that off with a pub within spitting distance from said church to serve as the reception location, and E.M’s parents living whack in the middle of the two venues, it was a no brainer.
With my wife very much the organiser, and myself largely nodding in agreement non-stop, the build up whizzed by. Before we knew it, August 2023 was close at hand, the month of our marriage. E.M. had taken a pregnancy test in the midst of all this excitement, providing us both with further cause for celebration. By the day of our wedding, E.M. was around nine weeks pregnant, and as we had been keenly following along the NHS growth guides up to that point, we had begun to refer to our little nausea inducer by the name of Gilbert Grape. (on account of them allegedly being grape sized by that point!)
Very few people knew of the pregnancy on the wedding day, save for parents and close friends. With temperatures high, and a marquee in use for the reception, this would provide a cover story to explain why E.M. redecorated my shoes and trouser leg during her dad’s speech, and of course, in the lead up to my own. I had been struggling for an opening joke up until that point!
To be continued….
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