Five Hummingbirds and a Symbolic Wedding Dress
- Alejandra Lopez
- Jul 17
- 3 min read
Love doesn't die. It just finds new ways to stay.
Three days before my wedding, my dress still wasn’t finished.
Not because of delays. Not because I couldn’t find the right one. But because the most meaningful part of it —the story— had yet to be stitched.
And that story begins with a hummingbird.
My grandfather used to tell me that hummingbirds are the souls of those we’ve lost — they come to visit when you need them most.
Somehow, I always believed that.
Because accident or not, hummingbirds always seem to find me. In moments of deep sadness. In times of celebration. In places they shouldn’t be — like a busy street in New York City.
I’ve lost five people who shaped me: my grandparents, my identical twin sister, my great-grandmother, and my uncle. The thought of walking toward my future without them by my side was unbearable.
So I made a decision: I would carry them with me — stitched into my wedding dress.
One year before the wedding, my husband surprised me with a trip to Oaxaca for my birthday — completely unaware it coincided with the Guelaguetza, one of the most beautiful celebrations in Mexico.
As we wandered through an artisan market, a denim jacket caught my eye. It was handwoven, embroidered with delicate hummingbirds.
I froze.
That was it. That was her!
The woman behind the embroidery —humble, meticulous, and full of soul— would later become the artist who brought my vision to life.
She had just designed the inauguration dress for Mexico’s president, Claudia Sheinbaum.
Yes. That level of talent.
And yet… she found time for me.
We worked across borders — me in New York, her in Oaxaca. We coordinated colors, positions, meanings. I asked her to embroider five hummingbirds down the lower back of my gown — the part of the body that holds you.
Because they were my support. And they would walk with me.
We chose blue thread for purity, peace, protection, and healing. I also asked for two milagros: one for shielding our energy, and one to bless our new beginning.
Then came the real test of trust:
Three days before the wedding… my symbolic wedding dress still didn’t have the hummingbirds.
It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t planned. But it was the only way.
Shipping the dress internationally from New York was too risky — delays, customs, damage, or even losing it altogether. So we made the decision to embroider it in person, in Oaxaca, just days before the wedding — in the artisan’s own home.
I had to trust her. With my story. With my dress. With my heart.
And I did. Completely.
My husband, bless him, became my unintentional wingman — watching TV while we built a curtain out of laundry and furniture to block his view of the dress from across the one-story home.
It was chaotic. It was imperfect. It was beautiful.
The artist welcomed me like family. Together, we turned thread into memory.
She embroidered each hummingbird with care. Five souls, now woven into the fabric that
would carry me into a new chapter. Every stitch a breath. Every detail a blessing.
When we finished, I felt them.
The ones who have always held me. Now sewn into my spine.
At the altar, I felt pure joy.
When my husband saw the hummingbirds for the first time, he smiled and whispered: “You did it!”
At that moment, we both knew it had been worth everything.
I also carried photo charms of my sister and grandfather on my bouquet, and placed one blue rose for each soul watching over me from the sky.
Because love doesn’t die. It just finds new ways to stay.
The dress may fade.
The photos may blur.
But the legacy?
That’s forever!
What story would your wedding dress tell?
Subscribe to our weekly reads to receive inspiration, love rituals, and destination wedding planning tips!!
DWM is more than planning — it’s about connection, culture, and storytelling.
Comments