"love is the only law i know"

Getting ready to go yesterday was excruciating.

Not only were we fighting a big wall of ignorance (where were we going? what would we need??), we were fighting each other. I was set on using cloth diapers or at least experimenting with their use away from home; I'm tired of only half-committing to this idea and I want to see if I can stand to carry around dirty diapers for 36 hours straight. The Boy was not convinced and we managed to inflate the issue beyond all measure. We were also fighting off the incessant questioning of my dad, who sincerely wanted to help but was handicapped by my secrecy (the last thing I wanted was to suffer through my parents sneering at Loftwyr & Gilamonstre's wedding preparations and my paranoia led easily to secrecy). I was fighting my wardrobe: nothing fit, nothing allowed for easy nursing, nothing was attractive. Just about the only thing that wasn't a struggle was our sweet little boy: all dressed up in chequered seersucker & having a wonderful time in the sunshine.

We were late starting. We were hungry & cranky & oh so stressed out when we finally got in the car. It was typical and I hated it.

But the hate gradually lifted as we drove. The traffic was ridiculous, but eventually we were beyond it and heading toward the site of our last wedding. The really funny part? Was that our huge scary detour last November that took us through pitch black country roads with snow in the ditches and made us an hour late for Noizangel & Gary's reception and made me fear that I'd give birth in the middle of nowhere was the road we needed to take to this wedding. Heh. I even recognized landmarks: "this is where we turned off the road...this is where we started to worry...this is where we turned the car around!"

We hit the bed & breakfast with only 15 minutes to go before the wedding itself. Sprout was very put out by the long car ride & was squirmyfussyhungry as we checked in. The room was pleasingly huge, the presence of cats a little less pleasing (me & my goddamn allergies). We decided to change & take the protesting baby directly to the site, where I planned to nurse through the ceremony. We left one overnight bag behind (coincidentally containing ALL the cloth diapers) and skedaddled. The agitation of the early afternoon had returned 10-fold: the Boy was muttering angrily about being late, the Sprout was really pissed about his delayed feeding, and I was not happy about toting a whole shitload of stuff from a gravel pit down a driveway of undetermined length. We were three very dark clouds, ready to rain on all & sundry.

We stepped into the clearing and it all changed.

What, exactly? First, we saw Nicole & Dan, who looked ethereal & gorgeous, like characters from a fairytale written by Poppy Z. Brite. Second, we saw the big tent, all decked out in banquet dress and a lovely place to stash our baby gear. Third, I sat down with Blake right away and was able to nurse him and watch the crowd at the same time. There was Celtic music playing in the tent to set the earth mother mood. Fourth, we realized that we weren't late at all, but running on what Stacy calls Pagan Standard Time. Fifth, Loftwyr approached, barefoot in the turf & looking like he was walking on clouds, wearing a brown velvet suit and a beatific smile. He shook hands with the Boy, kissed me as I nursed, and I felt the last of my tension swirl away with his welcome. It was at least an hour later that I saw Monstre, but she was wearing a matching mantle of otherworldly joy. For the first time that day it was brought home to me that we were about to witness a wedding. Everything was coming together for Loftwyr & Monstre, and it behooved the universe to shape up & follow suit. That included me, too.

bride, fairy gothmother & goblin prince. mythic characters all.

I sat nursing in my lawn chair and felt remarkably regal in my pink & black spikes. Q & Maggie came to talk & coo, as did Maria (who loved Blake just as much as she did at the shower.) It's amazing how babycare can fill in social gaps – we really only knew about a dozen people & the rest were nodding acquaintances, but with Blake along we always had something to do instead of standing awkwardly at the edges of a conversation. And when he fell asleep (as he did right after that first feeding), we just popped him in the sling & used him as a conversation piece. It wasn't really until the end of the night that he got in the way of our plans, but before launching into his crying fit he gave us 6 hours of good behaviour...and I think he's entitled to a few good rangs when he's been outside in the cold for half the day. As I say to all when they ask, he's a good baby. At least he is by our definition.

the boys are well-content

There was a motley group in attendance, from gothgrrls in tottery black boots to hippies in earth tones to mundanes in casual outdoor wear. I felt like I could've worn absolutely anything (or nothing at all) without arousing commentary. This alone made it easy to sit in silence with my baby and simply crowd watch.

The joining was amazing. I have never been to a pagan ceremony (although I have read The Mists of Avalon, like, a dozen times. So there's that.) I found it beautiful, thoughtful, mythic & profoundly reverential – all of which I've found to be missing from the average we're-doing-this-for-our-parents Christian ceremony. It appealed to all of my senses (except taste, thanks to a wayward dog who ate all the sacred dates), and left me feeling connected to the other people in the circle.

I'm still thinking about the moment when Loftwyr dipped his finger into the Cup and anointed the lips of our sleeping baby. Magic.

The rest of it was singing & dancing & eating & talking. I danced in the big noisy dark tent with the babe slung to my centre. I sat by the bonfire & ate one slice of the three different wedding cakes with my fingers. I tromped through the woods with some of the wildest guests & sang with the marital-tent-disturbers (including "Barrett's Privateers"! That was a relief. I don't have it in me to be intimidated by anyone who knows all the words to a Stan Rogers tune, even if they're magnificently attired.) It was a lot of fun. But I was still grateful that we'd booked a local room, because the three of us were all out of fun by 10 pm.

"I love you. You're perfect." – stacy, in regards to my cake-eating performance.

loftwyr & monstre: bound by love, full of cake

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 4/25/2004 10:59:00 p.m.