I lost my engagement ring

Have you ever had that sickening feeling where you look for something and it's not there? You look once and get that initial shock. You look again thinking you got it wrong and then a wave of dread sweeps over you.

That was me on Friday. WHEN I LOST MY ENGAGEMENT RING. 

After a rushed morning which involved me furiously preparing our new house for the arrival of my mother-in-law, I jumped in the car and hooned all of a few hundred metres - right in to the 100kmh zone - before I looked at my ring finger on my left hand and my stomach dropped. It was naked. Gone.

Yes, I know, it's just a ring. But it's a symbol. And the sight of that hand without a ring on it (which rarely happens as I never take it off) was a real shock - especially as I had no idea where it could be.

It was probably in my house, but where? And why hadn't I noticed it falling off?

I pulled over and did some deep breathing exercises. I decided to go to work because if I went home I would spend half the day tearing up.

I texted the fiancé, apologising profusely at losing the ring he so proudly picked out for me.

I rang the mother-in-law, tears welling, asking for advice.

And then I attempted to get on with my day.

I found I almost went through those stages of grief: denial (I can't have lost it), anger (F@*&$*(@&$*@ I've lost it), bargaining (OK God, or whoever, I promise you can let me lose something else if only you'll return this to me), depression (tears), and acceptance (it's gone - meh.)

I even rang the insurance company just to alert them to my potential loss, half-thinking it was gone forever - though those around me kept frustratingly (but rightly) saying "It'll turn up!"

Seven hours later, still nothing - but I hadn't looked yet, so there was still hope.

MIL, bless her, really felt for me so took it upon herself to head to my home to search and after not very long, she found the offending ring nestled among the sheets in my bed as if it was having a wee nap.

I'm not entirely sure how it came off; in my sleep, obviously.

Anyway, I could have cried! I felt like such a dick. It was an epic "first world problem" moment, but it doesn't mean it didn't have an effect on me.

Like I said, it wasn't the ring itself - it is insured and could have been replaced easily enough - but it was the symbolism when it came down to it. Was it a sign that all this wedding guff was going to be cursed? If it was, I take it that being reunited with this little sparkly thing can only be a good sign for the future.

Now, time to get this puppy resized... and remember where that safe place is that I stored our wedding rings, hmmm...

Have you ever lost something super-special, like an engagement ring or special piece of jewellery? 

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