Wedding Pictures.

Jason and I have been married for a month and a week. Does that earn us something special? I know it's not a "gold anniversary," but maybe tin? Aluminum foil? Plastic wrap? Something?

Either way the wedding already feels like ages ago. We've honeymooned and put away our gifts, started on the massive pile of thank you notes that majorly need our attention, and started to settle into our new titles of husband and wife. I wish I could wax poetic about being married and how much everything has changed but really it's more of the same. And that's in no way a bad thing.

Here are some of my favorite photos from the wedding, shot by my incredibly talented friend Justin Keoninh (you can find him at Mr. Jakyl Works.com).

Getting ready.

My best friend Meagan.

Another best friend, Morgan, looking like she's in a toothpaste commercial.

Bridesmaids from left: Jason's sister Erin, Jasmine, Morgan, Elise, Alex, Melissa, Meagan, Crystal, and my sister Rachel.

Jason and his dad Scott.

Addy's flower baby dress.

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Sideways.

A little glimpse of what went on while Jason and I were at the hotel after the wedding:

I really wasn't nervous about the wedding. Just about Addy. Because that weekend we took what little fragments of her "daily routine" that she's managed to get used to and threw them out the window, stomped on them, then buried them ten feet underground. She was shuffled from strange place to strange place, first spending the night at Jason's parents' house, then being walked down an aisle in front of a hundred people, then put to sleep upstairs in an unfamiliar old house (the wedding venue), then transported about five hours after her normal bedtime to my parents' house.

My sister's fiance Neel snapped this picture. Apparently they had a lot of fun trying to will her back to sleep at home after the wedding.

She pooped on her Nap Nanny about twenty minutes before the ceremony, hence the towel. But Addy always finds a way to contort herself sideways like this while she's sleeping, her leg hanging nonchalantly off the edge, her hand somehow not resting flat but standing straight up and perfectly peaceful.

It's comforting to know that her schedule wasn't terrible disrupted by that weekend. She's still down by eight and up around five. I'm not sure what happened to that seven to seven thing, but I'm just grateful we have a baby who will sleep solidly at all.

I am still trying to digest the fact that Adelyn was the only person not crying during the ceremony. All of my worrying was for nothing. And when Jason and I eagerly went to pick her up the next day (our check-out time was at two; we were out of there by nine. Partly because we wanted to go home and watch the Lost finale, but also because we missed that little girl), we found her on my mom's lap on my parents bed, content and smiling, and looking even bigger than she had just two days before.

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Father of the Bride.

My dad's beautiful toast, as requested. My dad also blogs here. He writes books on TV shows and has made a name for himself (seriously, I can't count how many times people--random people--have asked if I was his daughter) as a television scholar and a brilliant teacher. And this speech will stick with me forever. And I look up to him more than he will ever know.

In his final great poem, “Asphodel That Greeny Flower,” William Carlos Williams sits with his wife Flossie by the Atlantic Ocean and contemplates their marriage, a relationship—as all are—of infinite complexity. And their wedding day is vivid in their memories and imaginations. “As I think of it now,/after a lifetime” Williams writes, “it is as if/a sweet-scented flower/were poised/and for me did open.”

We have all just witnessed—been blessed enough to witness—the flower of Jason and Sarah’s marriage open. Of course this wonderful flowering had a prelude that many of us have been privileged to watch as well.

A young man, kind, gentle, and generous, who makes me retroactively embarrassed at my own early attempts at fatherhood and who has shown himself capable of great love for a young woman Joyce and I hold most dear, a nurturer and protector a father could only dream of.

A young woman, brilliant from day one, the finest young writer I know with the most precious soul it is possible to imagine. One day, not too far away, it will be my honor to be known as her father. To be that man more than fulfills my own life’s ambitions.

May Jason and Sarah’s love and life bloom. May their marriage be a perfect flowering of two special human beings.

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Mr. and Mrs.

A picture from the rehearsal, until I can show off the real ones.

Mommy and daddy are married.

I have a new last name and a husband. I now have the same last name as my daughter. I'm a wife. I'm wearing a wedding ring. I have a new sister, mother, and father-in-law, along with a whole host of new family members.

Other than that, not much has changed. Jason and I have been committed to each other as if we were married for years. When we reunited after some time apart two years ago--three months after that he proposed--I already knew this was my life partner, officially, forever. We were already living together. A few months after the proposal, we found out about Adelyn. We already knew we were spending our lives side by side, for better or for worse, and Adelyn pretty much sealed the deal.

Way back when we got engaged I signed up for those pesky monthly newsletters from TheKnot.com. Doesn't every overly-excited girl do that? And let me just tell you now, I used those things about as often as I use our fancy bottle warmer. Never. Yesterday, a day after the wedding, I got an e-mail with the subject line "Congratulations!" It was the first one I'd actually opened from TheKnot. And all they wanted to tell me about was this thing called "post-nuptial blues."

Geez. Before we'd even opened our gifts I was being warned about this new mind-altering, depressive state.

So. I'll just say that I, for one, am not all that worried about depression right now. Sure, the wedding's over, and part of me feels a twinge of sadness at that thought, just because I want to relive it again, and again, and again. I see now why people renew their vows, a practice I always thought was sort of superfluous. I get it. They just want another night of dancing and gifts and seeing everyone you love under one roof. If Jason and I had the money we'd renew our vows every year, fly all of our friends in and get all dressed up and stand up in front of everyone to tell each other how amazing the other is.

Sunday night was the best night of my life. Period. Coming in a close second is the night Adelyn was born, which was, I guess, more profound in a lot of ways, except I was on zero sleep and nurses were pushing on my belly until I was screaming in pain after I gave birth. Luckily there was no such practice after we said "I do."

This weekend was also the first time in years that all of my best friends have been in the same place at the same time. The bachelorette party and rehearsal dinner are entirely separate stories for later. There's just too much to tell.

From left: Elise, Crystal, Meagan, Alex, Erin, Morgan, me, and Jasmine.

On Thursday, I brought Adelyn to my parents house to hang out with my sister. On my way back out to the car, I was leaning forward to put Adelyn's DEARGOD so, so heavy car seat in its base when I stepped down at the wrong angle and my ankle twisted all the way inward. The pain was so intense it almost didn't register immediately. I got in my car, put the key in the ignition, and drove back to my apartment, my entire foot and ankle throbbing with each press of the gas pedal. Jason was waiting for me at home, recovering from food poisoning. He'd been up all night throwing up. Thankfully, his crisis was ending just as soon as mine was beginning. I called him from the parking lot of our apartment and asked him to come carry Adelyn. I couldn't walk. I sat in my car, trying to put weight on my foot outside the door, and it just wasn't happening. The pain was too intense. Jason got Adelyn inside and then came back for me. He carried me inside, got some ice for my already-swelling foot, and listened to me sob for an hour about the devastating fact that I would not be able to walk down the aisle. Of course. Of course this would happen, the day before my bachelorette party and three days before the wedding.

Jason used to be a sponsored skateboarder when he was a teenager, so he's no stranger to injured feet. In fact, he's an expert. He's broken, sprained, and twisted those ligaments so many times his feet are completely flat. (Sorry, baby. I still think your feet are the cutest feet ever.) So a few hours after the catastrophe that was my ankle twisting, Jason had me walking around the apartment. I was walking like an idiot. I was sobbing. I was dragging my foot behind me like a zombie. It hurt almost as bad as labor. (Keep in mind I got an epidural and the pain stopped when I was dilated to a four.) But I was walking, albeit walking while enduring excruciating pain. And this, Jason told me, meant that I would be fine. If it was broken or even sprained, he said, walking on it wouldn't even be an option, pain or not. So I went to bed that night hopeful I would wake up and the throbbing would be gone.

I woke up around three in the morning, and it was worse. I didn't want to wake Jason up again since he was on Adelyn-duty that night, so I crawled out of bed. I crawled down our stairs, through our living room, then to our kitchen. I reached for some Tylenol and gulped it down. And then I crawled back upstairs.

When I woke up, I could walk. My foot was bruised and it still hurt, but the intense throbbing was gone. After that relief, knowing I'd be able to walk at my own wedding without crutches, the rest sort of flew by me. I stopped worrying about all the little details and just enjoyed it. I guess it was a sort of blessing in disguise.

I wanted to write yesterday about this weekend but I didn't know where to start. The highlight was probably the cliche moment when I saw Jason for the first time walking down the aisle, because how can you top that? You can't. But then there was my dad's incredible speech. My best friend Meagan's toast, where she reminded everyone how we met fourteen years ago debating who had the higher reading level. It also could have been Jason's dad serenading us to Elvis (I made him promise he would do this a year ago, and he refused. Guess the wine made him rethink it). Or my oldest friend Melissa performing "At Last" a cappella. Beautifully. Maybe Adelyn's aunt Erin carrying her down the aisle. Jason's mom getting down on the dance floor to Kool and the Gang. My best friend Morgan grabbing the mic to welcome Jason into our close-knit group of friends. My pregnant best friend Elise shimmying on the dance floor while holding her belly. My mom gripping my hand as we walked down the aisle. Our photographer and my good friend Justin breakdancing after he put the camera down. The dance contest for the bouquet to Beyonce's "Put a Ring on It." It could have been Jason smashing the glass after we said our vows, and it also could have been when I accidentally dropped and smashed my wine glass from dancing with just a little too much enthusiasm. Or when I went to check on Adelyn upstairs and found her sitting in her great grandma's lap, stripped down to her diaper because of the heat, snoozing.

And it might just have been the end of the night, after Jason and I finally got in our getaway car, both drowsy from too much champagne and excitement (we weren't driving), when I laid my head on his shoulder and we sat in the quiet and held hands, peaceful, content, and finally married.

Adelyn didn't even make a peep during the ceremony. She sat on my mom's lap, watching her parents say their vows to each other and watched with a happy smirk on her face. I couldn't have asked for more.

For now, I'll leave you with our vows. Nothing else could really sum up the weekend better.

Mine: I, Sarah, take you, Jason, to be my husband. I take you to be my forever friend, my faithful companion, and my constant comedian. I vow to love you every day, on the days you’ve gotten enough sleep and even when you haven’t. I vow to listen wholeheartedly and with true excitement to the details of every new passion you discover. I vow to let you play guitar every day, all day, if that’s what you want, and to sing along always. I vow to be the best mother I know how to be to our daughter Adelyn, and to never, ever forsake her or you and to always place my family first. Above all else I vow to love you more with each passing day, and to never forget the happiness I felt nearly seven years ago when I met you and realized I found my soul mate. I give you my hand, my heart, my soul and my self, as long as we both shall live.

Jason's: From the start of our first date I knew one day we'd be standing right here. In the past six and a half years we've both been swept away on a crazy journey, constantly turning and forging onward. And with those turns and life's many surprises we've always found a center in one another. A center that is real, constant, and will always feel like home to me. I vow to always be your center, no matter how far or fast life turns, to be right there with you. To always remain faithful and to honor you with each passing day. To be a partner, a friend, and a soulmate that you can rely on. And to never let you forget just how much you mean to me. I'll give you my unconditional love as long as we both shall live.

(Get ready to be inundated with wedding pictures as soon as I get them.)

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A Pause for the Wedding Bells.

I'm getting married on Sunday. That is four days away still, I know. I've done the math. But the nuptial festivities start today in my book. My sister got in town last night, so her arrival marks the beginning of the first time that everyone I love will be in the same place at the same time. Tomorrow, my best friends Meagan, Morgan and Elise get here. Tomorrow is the bachelorette party and also my attempt to have more than two drinks consecutively and not obsess about Dr. Brown's nipples clogging and spit-up for more than two consecutive hours. On Saturday, the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner. And then Sunday's the big day. I don't think I'll be writing again until Monday, unless I surprisingly find myself at home with a moment to think.

We've hired a babysitter to take care of Adelyn during the ceremony and reception. She'll be at the venue with us to whisk Addy away if she gets too fussy and to put her to bed upstairs (yes, I'm bringing the whooole bedtime gamut with us, along with my white dress). I'm not nervous about marrying Jason or being somebody's wife or committing myself forever and always to one person, but I am nervous about the logistics of having an unpredictable newborn--and the love of my life--at such an important event.

Here goes.

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Wedding Dress.

You might remember I bought my wedding dress when I was in my second trimester (just starting it). I picked this particular dress because, for one, I loved it, and also because it was forgiving enough to accommodate whatever my post-baby body decided to be.

I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight a month after she was born. No, I'm not bragging. And if you're jealous might I remind you that my rapid weight-loss had a lot to do with being too sick to eat and throwing up a lot and having multiple colonscopies with two days of fasting and, you know, having Crohn's Disease. I don't recommend this weight loss plan.

But still, none of my old clothes fit me the same. They probably never will again. And the thing is, I don't really care so much. I've heard people say this a lot, and I've always secretly rolled my eyes at the sentiment, but I'm genuinely more proud of my body now than I ever thought I would be. Because I saw a baby come out of it. Screw a perfect stomach.

I got to try on my dress today to get it fitted. Like I said, I picked this dress because it flowed away from my stomach. I forgot that there's a corseted sheath underneath. Dear god the seamstress didn't forget, though. She laced me in that thing so tight that I'm pretty sure a nine-month-pregnant woman could hide her bump.

Addy came with us, of course. Luckily my mom was there to help out, but I still wanted to grab her so many times while the seamstress tucked away every last alteration. (She was fussing. Reflux.) But my mom took over so I could avoid getting her recently ultra-chunky spit up on my wedding dress.

You better believe I'll be holding her during the wedding and reception, though. Does anyone make a formal burp rag? I need to get on the search.

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Bridal Shower Part 2.

Something about being a new parent--especially when you're young, I think--makes you take a good, hard, microscopic look at all the other details of your life. Because all the things that used to be the focus of your thoughts and daily events, back when you had all the time in the world for talking on the phone and planning outings with friends and visiting with your family, suddenly take a back seat. Well, more like the back seat in a big, long bus. A back seat waaaaay back there.

Being a new parent is all-consuming. If you go back to work or if you stay home or if you do a combo or whatever, the parenting thing is still sort of resting on the forefront of your inner-narrative. When I'm working on a project or even just curling my hair I never forget, even for a moment, about the main task at hand. (Adelyn.) And I haven't officially gone back to work, at the moment I'm still just doing side projects until this job starts in July. But my days go by so fast. Dear God it's like five minutes after my feet hit the floor at the first sound of crying over the monitor I'm back in the same place, beyond eager to hit the pillow and sleep.

It's these things that force you to re-prioritize the other stuff in your life. Like friends. You no longer have time or energy to put stock in relationships that need constant attention to remain afloat. It's only the ones that can be sustained on their own, without daily, or weekly, or even monthly resuscitation needed to survive.

That's a good and a bad thing, I guess. I'm losing touch with some people I considered important to me, and I just, literally, cannot put in the effort to keep those relationships alive. The pre-mother me would be really upset about this, because I have always put a huge priority on maintaining and nourishing my friendships. Now, though, I just have to shrug it off and say "Oh, well." Before I have time to give it a few minutes of thought there's a load of laundry to be done, or dishes to be washed. Dinner to be cooked and a baby who needs to be fed.

But the good, the good has made me realize the people in my life who will be there permanently and forever, who let me vent about a fussy baby and my confusion about where my life is going, the people who listen and don't ask anything of me but to do the same for them.

I was blessed a long time ago with a group of core friends and family who care about me just as much as I care about them. It's these people who have remained, who call me just to ask how Adelyn is doing, who I'm willing to stay up an extra hour at night to talk to. I couldn't live without them.

All these thoughts came and kind of smacked me in the face this Saturday at my bridal shower, surrounded by those very people. A few of my best, best friends couldn't be there--one lives in California, the other in New York along with my sister, and one had to work. But they, in true best friend fashion, called just to say hi.

Adelyn is the lucky one, because she gets all these people in her life from the very beginning.

Addy and Trey, my mom's friend who hosted the wonderful shower for me. This woman is like hostess extraordinaire. I couldn't have asked for more. And I just love her, amazing party-thrower aside.
Jason's cousin and my future-cousin Kristy, who magically put a stop to Adelyn's crying fit with this holding position. She has two young daughters. She knows the tricks. And I took mental notes.
Jaclyn and Ella. It was Jaclyn's birthday that day, too. So happy birthday, Jaclyn! And Ella is the easiest baby to take pictures of ever, because she's SO FREAKING CALM. Seriously.
Me and my lovely momma. Her gifts were wonderful and hilarious. Along with an amazing picnic basket and some adorable pajamas, she individually wrapped a thing of hummus, some salsa, lime chips, salami, and spreadable brie. All individually wrapped. She didn't understand why I found this so funny.
Adelyn and her gorgeous Auntie Erin.
Me, Erin, Adelyn, and three of Jason's lovely cousins.
Beautiful Jazzy.

Candice and Kennedy, in her second outfit of the day. The thing about mommy friends, the second we both saw the stain creeping up on Kennedy's cute little jeans we both sprang into action. Because I've been there, oh so many times already.

And Addy, the star of the event and of every day in our lives. She later threw up all over this outfit.

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Bridal Shower.

I'll write more later--Jason and I are about to go for a walk and try to cheer Addy up. She had something going on with her stomach last night, after we got home from my bridal shower. Threw up all over me and her dad. A little bit got on her grandparents, too, because they came over to see her. It was a tricky evening.

But, for now, I'll leave you with this. We tried to get a photo of Adelyn and Kennedy, to show them later when they're a little more grown up and friends. Hope it makes them laugh hysterically like it does for me.

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Oy Vey.

About a year ago, Jason and I got engaged. It was a long time coming, probably; we'd been talking about getting married since I was 18. Six years later we decided it was time to take the plunge.

I dove into the whole wedding planning thing pretty quickly after that. I thrive on that kind of stuff--any excuse to get me all stressed out over details and color schemes and design and I'm all over it.

Three months after the proposal, though, came the baby apocalypse. And the wedding planning sort of went under the back burner for, oh, almost a year.

Before we knew about Adelyn we'd already picked out a venue and a date. (That date was pushed back a month post-Adelyn-revelation.) There was a little back-and-forth at first about whether or not we should just make it a rush-job and get married before she got here. It was never a morality issue, though. But as my mom said, after the baby comes, everything--wedding included--will be about the baby, not about a wedding.

I said screw it, though. I didn't want to get married when we were 18 because I wanted to be able to drink at my wedding without any raised eyebrows. That wasn't about to change just because I had a bun in the oven.

So we waited. And my mom was right--baby took over. Planning for Adelyn trumped any thoughts of our wedding (and rightfully so). Luckily I bought a dress when I was barely showing, an adventure in and of itself. That, the venue, the menu, the date, and the fact that I will be drinking without hesitation are decided. The rest? Pretty much up in the air.

Turns out planning a wedding in three months with a wailing newborn on your lap isn't the easiest thing. Before she got here, I had grandiose ideas of customizing the event; I even wanted to make one thousand paper oragami cranes to hang in the trees in honor of the Japanese marital custom. Now, I could maybe fold one of those things before Adelyn poops her diaper.

Oy vey. I guess the details will just have to wait, probably indefinitely. It's already taken me the entire weekend to finalize our guest list and even just start getting together addresses--let alone putting together and addressing the invitations. Did I say "oy vey" already?

When we were in the hospital I really, really wanted Adelyn's nursery ID card to have Jason's last name on it. Because it would be her last name, too, after all. But because we went and refused to get married, it has my last name on it. When they gave it to us before our discharge Jason remarked that Adelyn would now always know we weren't married when she was born, because he knew I was gonna frame that thing.

He forgot that she'll be seeing pictures of herself, at 4 months old, posing with us in a white dress and tux. Guess the jig is up.

(That reminds me--I have to find an infant's dress suitable for a wedding but that doesn't resemble an exploding cupcake or make me want to gag. Add it to the list.)

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