Way back in happy January, we picked out invitations and save the date cards from Marsupial. Then, seconds before we were about to place the order, I received that fateful phone call of doom. I told the lovely Linda at the stationary store what had happened, and she placed the order on hold for a few months while we waited to find out if the date had to be moved.

It wasn't until May when were able to definitely say that the date would not be changed. And since we had already paid the deposit for the save the date cards, there would be no stopping me from mailing the damn things out. While not really necessary so close to the date, sending them out made me feel better. Not to mention providing the would-be guests with a confirmation that the wedding was still on.

Fast forward to June, and it was time to order invitations. Easier said that done, conflabbit. Matt, Maid of Honor, and I went to the stationary store, where we tried to remember which invitation we picked months and months ago. A hour later, we declared our mission successful and we happily checked order invitations off the list. Or so we thought...

The next day I got a phone call from Linda. Apparently Marsupial was more than willing to charge exorbitant prices for letterpress, then provide less than stellar results. It was so bad that no one realized the sample invitation in the book was letterpressed! Not cool.

Having a high quality typesetting method was important to both of us, so it was time to pick out a new invitation! I arranged to stop by the store after work to look at other brands. Linda was kind enough to lend me one of the giant sample books with which to torture Matt.

With only a couple days until my next dose of chemo, we had to make a new decision that night. Of course, Matt had a test the next day, so he was extra grumpy at the thought of spending a couple hours dealing with the invitations. Luckily for him, I had already gone through the book with Linda and picked out four or five possibilities that we could both agree upon.

We chose a new invitation in record time, including selecting the paper and ink colors. Now we just need the R.S.V.P. cards, insert cards, and thank you cards. Except our stupid invitation did not come with any of them. Of course!

After perusing the entire book, which we had previously tried to avoid, we found pieces. In the end, the R.S.V.P. cards came from a completely different set, though the style matched our invitation perfectly. Well, after we changed the colors, that is. The insert cards and thank you cards were found in the back of the book, in the generic section. After a font and color change, they were declared to be close enough. DONE!

Unfortunately, due to the Hebrew text, we ended up needing an extra proof, which meant we didn't receive the final proof until I was fully drugged up after dose five. In other words, I wasn't in any condition to debate the veracity of the wording for the starting time. I did, however, help by declaring it to be perfectly fine without having any idea what anyone was talking about.

Fast forward a week and half, and we were finally able to have a sober conversation. Final decision? The existing wording was fine, but by then it was well into July. In other words, there was a rush order with overnight shipping in our future. There was no other way to get the invitations in time to mail out before dose six.

The order was placed Tuesday morning, and everything arrived on Thursday. I didn't go to work on Thursday due to nausea, but I was willing to get off the couch for an hour to pick up the invitations. And it was a very good thing I did.

What went wrong? Find out in Part Two!