It really doesn’t feel like two year ago that I woke up in a panic at 5am, turned to my husband and said “Oh god, it’s raining. It is raining on our wedding day Liam and IT IS IN A PARK.” (Spoiler, the sun came out).
Or one year since we were sat in a hospital being told that I would be induced at 37 weeks because my baby was on track for an 11lb birth weight.
Last year we didn’t really celebrate, because I was 36 weeks pregnant, we were travelling straight from the hospital to Center Parcs and, well, I was huge.
This year we aren’t celebrating because we have a house that is mid-renovation, a very lively baby who, funnily enough, does not like fancy meals out and I’m working.
But I have got him a card.
It is ok though, because although I loved my wedding day and I love looking back at the photos, I didn’t marry him for that. I married him for the eight years that came before the wedding and the many years that will come after it.
So, Happy Anniversary to my lovely husband and here’s to many more.