The Wedding.

The Wedding.


Like most girls, I dreamt of the day I would walk down the aisle to marry the man of my dreams. When I locked myself in the toilet at work to confirm I was pregnant with Andre that day, if you'd have told me that seven years on, I would be sat typing an online blog, MARRIED to Kallum, carrying our third baby boy, I would have laughed in your face. How we got from THAT, to this, I really don’t know. It has been seven years of growing together, seven years of mistakes, seven years of getting to know someone else's soul, as well as your own. Seven years filled with memories, the best memories of my life. Every love story is different, ours is just proof that if you work hard enough at something instead of throwing the towel in, you never know what kind of magic could be waiting to happen. 

I never thought I would sit and appreciate all the dark days and sad times, but I do. I appreciate and understand everything that happened in our early days, all those moments, feelings and tears cried over what may be, have given us not one, but two, more beautiful sons.   

I haven't added to ‘Our Story’ in such a long time, so when I decided to update my whole blog page, I read back through from the beginning. I cried. I cried at every single section. I cried as if it was the first time I was reading about the events of our life. Like these things had happened to someone else, and not us. It is really easy to just get carried away in life and not sit back and take it all in. I am writing this blog from our bedroom, in the house that we own together, heavily pregnant with our third son, Kallum downstairs doing his own thing, and the children sound asleep in their rooms. I have such a warm feeling of love, just by doing nothing, just by being in our home, surrounded by the things we have worked hard for over the years, and surrounded by the people that we created. People that I could envision in my dreams when I was just a young girl, and how I longed for a stable family of my own to love and protect.  

My ‘Dad’, I say it like that, as he doesn’t deserve the title. Well, he isn’t involved in my life. Nor my brothers, nor my children's. He always lacked the fatherly bond so when him and my Mum broke up, it was the old -let's go to Dad’s on a weekend, the weekends faded to months, months to years, and now I don’t even have his telephone number. Kal showed me the meaning of being a Dad. The guy, who I was on and off with every week, screaming at down the phone once upon a time, and in my heart of hearts, I was SURE would let me and the baby down, proved me wrong. That is now my Husband. Not only my Husband, but THE most amazing, devoted, dedicated, and inspiring Dad I have ever come across, (Jason Timmins, your efforts are up there, I just got to let Kal have this one ha-ha!) I always dreamt of having the stereotypical family where Dad goes out to work, whilst Mum takes on the house and has tea on the table for everyone. That was something I never experienced for myself, and at one point, I thought that was something I would never be able to pass on to my own child.  

Single, pregnant, and twenty years old, living in a council house, with no car of my own, and no plan of what I would do next. It is easy to forget that I didn’t just wake up one day in our beautiful home, in the small farming village that I had always dreamed of living in. Jumping in my nice car to do the school run, and being able to return straight home after dropping off our eldest, to be a stay at home parent to our youngest. I was busting my balls going back to work when Andre was six weeks old, as my maternity pay didn’t suffice a life with a car, bills, half the rent to pay, and a young dependant. I took one look at my first maternity pay check, and realised this wasn’t the life I was prepared to live. 

 Kal has always worked his arse off, and he already was footing most of the bills to try and help me out, but we knew that to afford the house we were so desperate to buy, we needed my income too. He told me and assured me that one day, I would stay at home and he would take care of us. A promise that not only he kept, but a promise that he acted upon and changed the life of both me and his sons. I will be eternally grateful for the way he has taken on full financial responsibility for our family, to allow us all to live the best life, and allow the kids to have not just some, but all of my time. That is such a luxury, most households have to have two incomes to survive, I count my blessings every day that Kallum works as hard as he does, so we don’t have that worry.  

I, myself, struggled with the whole stay at home mum thing for a while. I stopped working when Andre was three, and had been in the same role since before I fell pregnant with him. I have a burning desire to be successful in my stomach, that feeling never leaves you. One day when the kids are older, the feeling of putting on a suit, and going out to achieve something outside of my family home, really excites me. I act as Kallum’s agent, it's just something I kind of fell into one day during a contact review, and I've been sticking my nose in ever since. To say I don’t really have a major interest in the game, (other than when Kal is playing of course), the way rugby works off the field, and the stuff that happens behind closed doors, really interests me. It is something I would most definitely like to expand on a more professional level in the future.  

Anyway, I'm supposed to be writing part 13, and I've waffled on and talked so much shit! Once I start typing I can't stop, and I wonder why I ever left it so long. The main point I was trying to outline following on from part 12, was that with all the shit we went through with depression, when Kal asked me to be his wife, I didn’t have to think twice. Supportive – Check, amazing Dad- Check, easy on the eye- Check, best friend ever in the history of the world- Check. The only thing I had to think about was what kind of ring I wanted. I mean, obviously I didn’t let him pick it, poor Kal. I have to try remind him I'm a strong-minded woman, I know what I want, and I'm certainly not a ‘basic bitch’ ha-ha. Of course, he gave me a budget, and I picked one for slightly over that, would I be a woman if I didn’t test the boundaries from time to time? I also tricked him and said when the day came that he asked me to be his wife, the gesture was the most important thing to me, and getting married wasn’t a priority. I then proceeded to order every single ‘bride to be’ item on ASOS, and plan the full wedding in a paperchase planner by the next evening. Long and behold, we married directly one year after the proposal. Hands down, the very best day of my entire life. Sorry kids, but labour in my eyes is far too painful for it to be classed as the best day ha-ha! I always say that the best day of my life was our wedding day, but the best days of our life have been with the kids, that kind of justifies it.  

I know I'll get emotional writing this last section, but the best parts of the wedding for me was having my brother walking me down the aisle, (he made me forget all about the absent D word). Having all the people we love under one roof, on the same day, at the same time, that only happens at weddings and funerals. And last but not least, bringing together our little Watkins family. My new name means so much to me, it’s more than just a marital title, it’s a sense of belonging. The feeling of being a part of a tight family unit, MY tight family unit. The pure sweet evidence, that when Kallum lifted the veil over my face and looked into my eyes, that scared twenty-year-old girl, who locked herself in the work toilet clutching a positive clear blue test, with tears streaming down her face. Well she, she was going to be just fine.  


End of part 13.