Leading up to our engagement, I had already known Kevin was going to pop the question three months prior. As a traditional gentleman, he secretly drove up to my parent’s home in Connecticut to ask for their blessing. However, my father accidentally leaked the info to me days later…which of course sent me into a frenzy of thoughts. When will he do it? How do I pretend that I never knew? How do I not have my nails done!???
So the next day, (and for the following three months) I had a french manicure at all times. Between the time I found out and the time he actually proposed, we went on two separate trips to Jamaica and Chicago. During both of those, I ransacked his suitcase for the shiny hardware while he was in the shower. I had completely lost my marbles. I had wished that my dad hadn’t slipped that tiny bomb into my mind which had soon infiltrated my every thought. And now, I NEEDED TO KNOW WHEN IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN! Kevin must have known me better than I thought than to plan an engagement on a vacation…too cliche for his taste.
Fast forward to the first week of September. I was sitting on the floor removing my french manicure. I had given up and given in. I resigned to the thought that we were just going to be a co-habitating couple in the suburbs forever. He asked me if I wanted to go to dinner the next night after work, and I apathetically said “sure”.
The next day after work, I was late to meet him downtown DC. He was dressed in a blazer and khakis (slightly more formal than usual work attire) but I was still oblivious. We walked through the city towards the national mall, since our reservations weren’t for another hour. I tried to enjoy our stroll, but Kevin was yanking me along to hasten our pace, to which I complained that we don’t need to rush. By the time we made it to the mall, in between the Capitol building and the Washington Monument, Kevin started to get weirdly reminiscent about our first date, which was a jog on the mall with his dog. He prompted me to remember the exact spot we were standing in, to which I replied “We sat on the ground and stretched after our run, and your dog went and took a crap behind that tree” (not quite what he expected). Still oblivious, I turned around to keep walking, and noticed he wasn’t coming with me. When I turned back around, I found him down on one knee, with the rock of my dreams in his hands. Kevin had hired a secret photographer to capture the genuine moment. It was perfect.
Fast forward two and a half years later, and I’m 32 weeks pregnant. When we did our maternity shoot, I asked our photographer, Michelle, to capture Kevin in a similar proposing fashion with the bump. Having them transposed next to each other fills my heart with such joy to see the transformation of our relationship from an engaged couple to soon-to-be parents. They were some of the best moments of my life.