As I sit here, I am propped up on cushions, hopped up on lots of Ibuprofen & Codeine, and slowed dying of agony...
OK so using the word dying makes me a little bit of a drama queen, but I'll tell you it wasn't pretty at about 3am this morning when I could barely walk to the bathroom.
Needless to say, my darling fiance, is a wonderful man for putting up with me. Let's just hope he can keep up the patience for the next however many years!
Anyway, awakening this morning in more pain than most women experience during chilbirth (I imagine), it got me worrying: What if this happens on the big day? What if I have to be escorted to the ceremony by two paramedics before being rushed to the local A&E department? What if I fall over my clumbsy feet on the final decent to the ceremony room only to fall & break a limb? Or two?
I am sure it must be perfectly normal to have worries like this, the closer the date gets. Mustn't it?
As my MOH will vouch, I am one of the world's worst worriers. I am the eternal pessimist. And so is she... And yet we manage to help each other through very difficult situations. She joked the other day that if were paid to worry, we would retire very happy woman (and yet still probably find something to worry about!).
But I shall keep a smile on my face & remind myself that nothing bad is going to happen. The law of averages states it. So I think we'll be fine... Won't we?