My husband and I spent 10 months planning not one, but two weddings. Barry came to Minnesota from Dublin, Ireland, in 2005 to finish his Cardiology fellowship. Despite being a Minnesota ‘transplant’, his family and roots are in Ireland and so even before we became engaged, we decided that it was just as important to honor my heritage with a Methodist wedding in Minnesota as it was to honor his with a Catholic blessing in Dublin. So, that was it. Two ceremonies and two receptions planned within a span of five days on two different continents.
It was the evening before ceremony number one when Barry and I were wrapping up a long day of rehearsal activities. Around midnight, I asked him to go downstairs and grab our vows off the printer. The next thing I heard (in this order) were: crash, thud, silence, groan. I leaned over the banister and saw my fiance sprawled at the bottom of our wooden staircase.
A trip to the hospital the following morning confirmed that Barry’s foot was indeed broken. I spent the next hour texting various family and wedding party members: “Good morning! Barry broke his foot and we’re at the emergency department but I think we’ll be out of here before the photographer arrives. Talk soon!” The text was then invariably followed by a picture of Barry in his powder blue hospital gown because no one believed me.
Despite the initial panic, here are five reasons why my husband breaking his foot on our wedding day was actually a good thing:
1. Perspective. Waking up that morning to realize that Barry couldn’t bear any weight – much less walk – on his right foot was one of the most stomach-dropping moments of my life. We both knew it was broken but neither of us wanted to admit it.
That being said, what could have easily turned into a worst-case scenario (which in my mind would’ve been surgery and/or a massive hard cast) ended up being a bad-but-manageable scenario. Because the break was along his 5th metatarsal, surgery wouldn’t be required. He was bandaged, fitted with a boot, given a pair of crutches, and sent home with enough painkillers to sedate a small horse.
A strange thing happened while I was sitting in the exam room picking at my breakfast of vending machine Cheetos and diet Coke. As soon as I heard that Barry would be able to walk down the aisle – albeit drugged and limping – a sense of calm washed over me. Every single wedding detail that I had spent the last 10 months stressing about no longer seemed important. My husband-to-be would be able to walk and at that moment, nothing else mattered.
2. Teamwork. I guess one of the best testaments to the strength of a relationship is how a couple handles adversity. While this situation obviously wasn’t a conscious exercise in team-building, Barry and I have spent plenty of time reflecting on the experience and we both agree that we pretty much handled it like rockstars.
3. Good story, great pictures. How many people can say they spent the morning of their wedding in the emergency department? Once the shock and uncertainty subsided, we rolled with it and ended up having a perfect day. The story made fantastic small talk material and if I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I pushed him, I’d be a very rich woman.
4. Travel perks. Part of the fear that came with the diagnosis stemmed from not knowing whether or not Barry would be able to travel right away. Our Dublin ceremony and reception were scheduled to occur in five days, followed by a two week Euro-hopping honeymoon. As it turned out, the broken foot was a great little travel buddy. We got to skip lines all over the place – including the airport – and Barry turned into something of a crutch master. It did get a bit tricky when I had to haul both suitcases off a water taxi and through the cobbled streets of Venice, but nothing we couldn’t handle.
5. No first dance. When I told Barry the topic of this post, he immediately blurted out “no first dance!” So, there you go. We didn’t have to do a first dance at the reception, which suited us both just fine.
