Katie, 33, is in PR, while her ex-soldier H2B Ultimate Hero (UH), 38, is a close protection bodyguard. She is sharing her wedding diary with us in the countdown to her big day on April 30, 2011.
So Brides, it appears I am suffering from a bit of anxiety; OK, a load. I have less than four months to go with so much to do and I am starting to get RSVPs through.
This means people are definitely coming; this means it is real. It is happening: all systems go. This means I am really getting married.
Now I have no issues with this whatsoever. In fact if there was a commitment greater than marriage, I would do that too. If I could fuse my soul to the hero for all eternity I would do it without a second thought.
It isn’t cold feet I am suffering. It is something far more dark and desperate. Let me give you an idea.
In the very early stages of our relationship (after we became engaged), it dawned on the UH and me that we didn’t know all that much about each other. If we had to do one of those interviews where they test that you are not just getting married for a visa we would most likely fail and I would be deported back to Australia (OK I wouldn’t as I am a UK resident, but you get the idea).
So we started to do mini-quizzes on each other to catch up on the average four years couples are together before they get married. There was the typical favourite foods and songs and then UH asked me what my favourite place was in the world.
Without hesitation I told him it was Sydney Kingsford Smith Airport.
I think if I was a ghost, there would be two places I would hang out: 1. The arrivals hall of Sydney Airport (I so relish in seeing loved ones reunited); 2. The maternity ward of a hospital. It wouldn’t really matter which one.
One of the most thrilling times of my life was seeing my baby brother for the first time in his little plastic capsule on wheels wrapped in blue and white waffle blankets. I was in such awe that when my mother pulled back the blankets to show my sister and I his tiny little wrinkly feet I couldn’t quite believe he even had legs. I thought I might die from how perfect he was.
Anyway I am getting off the point and trying to explain my dark and desperate state of mind.
What I realised when I told UH about my favourite place being Sydney airport, it was also my most hated.
It is where I see my family for the first time in a year and then say goodbye to them for another year.
The core reason for my dark and desperate mood is: I realised I am going to have this feeling the day after my wedding. My two best friends are leaving the morning after.
Whilst most couples are flying off to tropical destinations, I will be saying goodbye to my two best friends. Then other dear friends from Australia and family will depart and a few days after my mum, sister and brother and then, to really add salt to the wound, UH will go back to the Middle East to see out his hero duties.
I am wondering if this just isn’t a bit too much emotion for one already emotionally charged fiercely sentimental girl.
It is a bittersweet thought for me: having everyone arrive and be together and meet my hero, but then to leave so immediately might be too much. I am worried I will spend all of my time trying to hold it together so I won’t be able to relish in my wedded bliss.
I have brought it on myself, to be fair. I was the one who had grand ideas about travelling the world and falling in love with a tall, dark foreigner. (The hero was born in Nottingham. That is quite exotic for the average Australian.)
On another note, I went to see the priest again last night who went through the next batch of paperwork with me. I didn’t realise it, but when the priest was filling in the forms he told me that UH needs to declare (as the non-Catholic party) that all children born from the marriage will be baptised Catholic. He even has to sign a form proclaiming it.
When I returned home and alerted the hero to this, he was most displeased. The UH (forever a rebel to the Catholic Church) announced he had grand ideas of having his offspring baptised in the CofE chapel on the secret service base so that our Machine of a Man best man could perform his Godfather duties in ceremonial uniform.
Where do I start on this one? So as to not put my case forward and tear away the first fatherly duty of the hero, I dropped the subject. I will leave that battle up to the priest.
‘Til next week brides!
Read Katie’s wedding diary week 27 (and find links to earlier weeks) here.