I finished my second year at college whilst pregnant and got a diploma for it. Better than a kick in the teeth but I wanted to carry on to get my degree. Nobody told me I could stay on by putting the baby in the creche, I just didn't think it was an option really, so I left. Seven and a half months after the wedding our daughter was born. Two months after that we moved to a very well-to-do parish (which shall remain nameless!!) where my husband became a fully fledged vicar in charge of his own church. I was 21 with a tiny baby in a place where most people didn't even think of having a baby until they were at least 30. My next door neighbour saw my mum holding the baby at the induction service and assumed she was the vicar's wife. She nearly collapsed in shock when she saw it was me. I was young but I also looked very young for my age and quite girly still. I felt I'd arrived in an alien world among older people who had lived and worked many years already. But I tried to fit in and went to the usual mother and baby groups to make friends.
The church was really odd. I'd only ever been part of a big lively modern church and was shocked to sit in the pew Sunday mornings and see the choir all robed walking in carrying a cross at the start of the service. My husband led the way down the aisle for them and I sat there cringing like hell. I hated it. But I went - nearly every week I was there. I was always late though, I purposely delayed when I arrived using the baby as an excuse. During the service I'd then pinch her so she cried and I could leave - not really...but I did leave at any squeak from her! I soon started to take the few children who were there out to do a children's class. I was a genius - those classes were just a fantastic excuse for me to not be in church listening to sermons and doing the peace and prayers and any other crap that is part of the territory.
What I really hated was the lack of privacy. I was public knowledge and observed. I was introduced as the vicar's wife to people - I often said very strongly 'I am me, my husband just happens to be a vicar'. I had to watch what I said - no swearing, I had to not gossip, not moan, just be sunny and smiley and get on with it. People noticed what went in my shopping trolley too - how bizarre is that!
Your home is not really your own home when you live in a vicarage either. One morning about 9am I was sitting in the kitchen with my baby in her highchair having breakfast when the doorbell rang. I was in my dressing gown and didn't want to open the door so I ignored it. The next thing I knew was a head was peering in the kitchen window. It was a woman who went to the church. I had to open the door then. She tutted and was most put out that I'd ignored her so rudely when she wanted the church key from me.
Our wedding anniversary came round and we went out for a meal. The owners of the restaurant were the son and daughter-in-law of a church couple. The night was quiet for business and we said it was our anniversary but they sat and talked to us throughout our meal about the church!
I slowly began to realise that life in a vicarage was not going to be normal. People want access to you all the time day and night.
The funniest thing about that anniversary night was the church warden who was babysitting read our cards. A few days later she said to me "Can I ask you something? One of your cards says 'congratulations on your 1st anniversary' but wasn't it your second?", "No, it was our first" I said. "Then how come Hannah is over four months old?!!" Fantastic!
