I got married in September and I fancy myself a pretty laid back bride.

In fact, I think I stressed out more about being laid back than the actual wedding. I was hell bent on emerging from matrimony with my relationships and self-respect intact. Now as a married person, I am happy to report that it appears my family and friends still love me and I have all of my self-respect, apart from the pieces I left on the dance floor.

What I noticed while planning our wedding was that while I was easy-breezy while conscious, I was an irrational basketcase the moment I fell asleep in the form of Wedding Stress Dreams.

A few thematic elements of the dreams to paint the picture:

• Bride aliens who involuntarily gave birth to tiny baby aliens after they got married.
• Obama giving me directions to the venue because I was lost, and late, and asking questions about involuntarily birthing aliens. “Obama, will it hurt? Will Michelle teach me how to be a good mother?”
• Sasha and Malia babysitting my newborn aliens while we partied at the reception.

My subconscious was off the effing rails due to wedding anxiety compartmentalization, and it appears my Whole30 experience has brought some of the stress dreamin’ back. The good folks at Whole30 tell us to expect food dreams around the halfway mark, but mine started on night one…nothing as extreme as spontaneously birthing tiny aliens, but definitely a notable presence.

Upon waking up I was like, that is so weird. I don’t feel particularly stressed about Whole30.

Then the hubs and I were walking home from the gym today and he asked me about the new brand of kombucha I bought.

“What, you mean the one I bought because the other ones had added sugar and this one was only sweetened by fruit juice so it is indeed Whole30 compliant?” I replied, while resisting the urge to pat myself on the back and ask for praise from strangers on the street.

“Yeah, but it has hops in it. Don’t hops have gluten in them?”

Any preconceived notions I had about being “easy” or “breezy” about Whole30 were banished in that moment. I straight up panicked.

“What do you mean?!” said with the voice usually reserved for main characters dying on favorite shows.

To which he replied, “Well, it’s called Grapefruit Hop.”

I stopped on the sidewalk.

I seriously thought it was called that because it comes in a beer-ish looking bottle and they were being cheeky.

“We have to get home right now.”

Being a good little Whole30 student, I know that even unintentionally breaking rules means a do-over. I know it is only Day 3 but that felt too much to bear.

I rush in and examine the bottle.

And while, yes it does clearly say it has hops in it in the title, and come to find out, also in the ingredients, nothing about gluten or grains.

I scour Whole30 forums and find what I am looking for…

Thank Oprah and Melissa’s Hair!

Andria, I have never met you but I have never been so grateful for words you typed with your fingers.

Hops are flowers, ya’ll. Best news of my life.

I slumped down in a puddle of post-panic relief and realized that I am most definitely not breezy about this experience, but also realized that I sincerely care about the process and the outcome. I am so grateful for Whole30 and their vast and expansive resources (to talk us off kombucha induced ledges) and so grateful to work for a company that makes this experience so much easier for so many.

Kombucha Shaped Bullet dodged. Onward to Day 4.