They tell you that time is going to go by so quickly and that you won’t believe it because it will seem like just yesterday. Well, they are right that time goes by quickly, but they are also wrong because it doesn’t seem like yesterday. It has gone quickly, but we’ve also grown and changed and learned and loved so much that it seems like a lifetime ago.

I had slept good the night before. Waking up early was the only abnormal part of my routine that signaled this day was different. My voice had returned in a miraculous feat after a week of strep and laryngitis and prescriptions for medicine and naps. Yes, doctor-prescribed naps. When my sister woke up, she found me in the kitchen cleaning. The fridge was clean, the stove, the countertops, the floor, the trash ready for take out. In my mind, it seemed like something I should do since I was going to leave for a week and a half, but she just laughed at me in my pajamas cleaning the kitchen on my wedding day.

I took a shower, rinsing off the spray tan from the day before, and we went to IHOP for breakfast with her then-boyfriend-now-husband and my personal attendant, Jordan. The waiter was a trip and our food came so late that we were all hurrying to stuff down the pancakes so we could leave for our hair appointments. On our way to the salon, the longest, slowest train you can imagine decided to travel through Iowa City and we were stuck in traffic, waiting, for a good 30 minutes. I called the salon to tell them and hoped  to heavens they’d say it was okay.

There was hairspray and bobby pins and curls steaming and chit-chatting. I remember feeling really tired and I just wanted to see Kevin. I had been opposed to the wedding itself, wanting to elope from the get-go. The planning had stressed me to the limit and the drama involved with it was so bad that I had spent many nights sobbing to Kevin. The one factor that I actually looked forward to about the wedding was my dress. To this day, I think my dress was perfect and if I had to choose all over again, I’d pick the same one. And, yes, if I had to choose, I’d still want to elope.

After hair, there was makeup. I remember checking my cell phone to see if we were still on schedule and then sitting back and relaxing. I looked forward most to getting into my dress. Then I would be a bride for real.

After makeup, my sister and I came back to my house to get dressed. My dress was hanging crisp and pressed, gorgeous. My vintage veil was clean, thanks to my mom, and my t-strap heels were waiting for my toes to slide in and peek out the open-toes.

Kevin and I were meeting to take pictures at the church before the bridal party arrived. My sister and Jordan helped me into the car and we were ready to go… Until my sister tried to get back into the condo to finish getting ready and realized she was locked out. My keys were inside and the front door combo lock hadn’t been set up yet since it was a new building. I called Kevin in a slight panic and he changed direction to come over to the condo with his keys. In the meantime, my sister went around to the ground level porches and knocked on people’s screen doors, trying her luck that someone would be home on a Friday afternoon. After a good 10 to 15 minutes, as Kevin was within a mile of the condo, Carla hit payday with one of my neighbors, who came and let her into the building.

Crisis averted, Jordan and I got to the church before Kevin as planned. I went inside while she stayed outside to coordinate getting Kevin in without him seeing me. The church was really tiny, an old country church that I had fallen in love with. There was only one place to go and it was up in a tiny little balcony. Kevin came in and went to the front of the church with his back to me. I carefully went down the stairs, joking that I better not fall.

And then, head-over-heels, I fell.

Not kidding. I crashed down the bottom 4 stairs and landed in a heap at the bottom with my dress over my head and my left leg throbbing. I heard people gasping and Jordan told Kevin to turn back around while the two photographers tried to help me up and see if anything was broken. I could stand so I figured a trip to the ER wouldn’t be necessary so I shook it off and semi-limped up to the front of the church to see Kevin.

Having him turn to look at me was the moment my butterflies flew away and I knew the rest of the day would be okay because this man was mine.

He asked if I was okay and I said I was fine, but I walked cautiously the rest of the day. (Amazingly, my clumsiness presented itself again 5 days later in Mexico when I fell down a flight of stone stairs. Between the two huge falls, I ended up with several dark bruises on my body, a misaligned spine, and a broken blood vessel which acts like a permanent bruise on my leg to this day.)

We went outside to a field by the church to take photos and Kevin and our photographers had pulled off a huge surprise by finding an old piano that someone didn’t want and hauling it out there for me. It had been something I had suggested previously, but didn’t think it was actually going to happen.

Since there was no place inside the church to hang out while guests arrived (or a bathroom), the whole bridal party left and went to the reception hall about 15 minutes away. By the time we got there, it was time to head back to the church. I was feeling fairly relaxed by that point and thought, “Well, the wedding can’t start without the bridal party.” Even so, when we pulled up outside the church, my younger brother came out and said everyone was worried that we had run off since we were late. Never mind that the entire bridal party was with us, I guess my previous talks about elopement were causing concerns.

The song that I walked in on was one that I had picked out when I was 15. The first time I heard it (The Giving by Michael W. Smith), I knew the doors would open and I would walk into the church at 2:21 in the song. Walking down the aisle was the most dreaded part of the day and it didn’t fail. My aunt had tried to tell me that once I saw Kevin, it would be fine, but I remember trying to keep from crying because I hated having everyone looking at me. It was a short aisle, but a looonnnngggg walk.

Since my dad was both giving me away and officiating the service, my brother-in-law had agreed to step in for the welcome and prayer so there could be a smooth shuffle for my dad, a man of many roles that day.

The service was a blur. I remember very little except that my dad may have told an embarrassing story or two. I didn’t cry through my vows, but I cried when Kevin said his. Hearing him say that he was going to care for me, provide for me, love me, choose me, melted my heart. This man would be mine forever. Gosh, I am the luckiest.

I still feel the same way 2 years later. In fact, I feel even luckier, even more loved, and more in love.

I don’t think love can stay on the same continuum. I think love is a moving emotion; it can either expand or shrink, rise or fall, but it can’t plateau. Love, I believe, is a working emotion. Love isn’t necessarily an emotion that you always feel; sometimes it’s a choice. I can’t tell you why other marriages succeed or fail, but I can tell you that, for us, we choose to love. That choice, whether intentional or not, is what has made our relationship better now than before.

That choice is what makes me feel like the luckiest girl. He chose me. He loves me. He vowed ‘til death for me. Yes, the past two years have gone quickly, but we’ve grown, we’ve changed, we’ve learned, and we’ve chosen to love so much that it seems like a lifetime ago that we were married.

As we walked out of the church with the bell tower ringing its chimes through the countryside, I thought I knew love–and to an extent, I did–but now I know it better. We continue to choose love and we continue to grow together and, because of that, I’m looking forward to the rest of my life with this man who I get to call mine.

(Our wedding photos were taken by The Locket Photography and are used here with copyright release permission.)