As far as wedding planning goes, mine has been relatively stress-free. Other than a minor freak out in the early stages of planning, it’s basically been smooth sailing.

As you know, the invitations were a bit of a pain. Relying on a friend to get things to me on time backfired and while they did end up mailed around when I wanted them to (at the post office as we speak!), it was a big rush at the end to get it done.

I arrived at my friend’s house to pick up all the invitation components last night. She was frazzled — as usual — as her two boys ran around her feet. She showed me all the pieces and they looked beautiful. I was so happy. Until she opened the outer envelopes.

They’re not what I wanted. At all.

They’re printed in a plain font, not script, and while centered, the address is near the bottom, not the middle, of the envelope. Also, our return address is on the front, not the back like I had wanted.

I know some of you are rolling your eyes, but after eight months, lots of back and forth and a couple hundred dollars, I expected these to look exactly as I had planned.

I didn’t say anything to her. Mostly because we were at, if not passed, the deadline I wanted to send them out. And also because our recent interactions have been strained and I just wanted to get the invitations out the door without any more drama. I thanked her, got in the car, and immediately called my mom.

She was sympathetic and we talked about other things which helped calm me down. Until we hung up and I started to freak out again.

And began calling former brides for advice. Except, of course, none of them picked up.

I tore into the house upset, showing Michael the envelopes. His reply was that if this is really important to me and they’re not what I wanted, I should have them fixed. But there was no time! Then Jen arrived to help assemble them and assured me that yes, they’re not what you wanted but no, they don’t look terrible and seriously? I rip open that envelope and chuck it in the trash. I want to see the invitation!

Ok. Alright. Yes. I can handle that.

Later on my friend and former bride did call me back and told me her own invitation horror story to make me feel better. She also said that if this is the biggest thing that goes wrong during all the planning, I made it through pretty well. It’s not like the groom stood me up on the alter! (Although after all this wedding brain, he might be having second thoughts.)

Three and a half hours later, a pile of neatly stamped, sealed and slightly not perfectly printed envelopes sat before me. My wedding invitations. Holy. Cow.

This morning I heaved two overflowing boxes into the post office and sent them on their way.

There’s no turning back now.