ANN ARBOR, MICH. — Their weekend plan, as of Friday evening, was to wake up late on this gray, chilly Saturday, make some pancakes for 2-year-old Corbin and knock around the house in pajamas.

Instead, Anne and Kelly Callison were up around 5 a.m. to decide what to wear and in line outside the Washtenaw County clerk’s office under down blankets by 7 a.m. By 10:30 a.m., they had wed in the basement of the Washtenaw County clerk’s office surrounded by both sets of their parents, some siblings and several friends.

“We kind of regret that we’re doing this in long johns right now, but we are so grateful we can do it at all,” said Anne Callison, a second-grade teacher from Saline, Mich.

The Callisons were among the first same-sex couples to wed in Michigan, now the 18th state in the nation where it is legal after a federal judge on Friday struck down a voter-approved gay marriage ban on grounds it violates the equal protection clause of the Constitution. Judge Bernard Friedman did not stay his own ruling (PDF), as other federal judges have done to prevent same-sex marriages during the inevitable appeals to the higher courts, but as late as 9 p.m. Friday, weddings were not expected to begin until Monday.

Then, under pressure from local activists and lawmakers, the clerks of four counties — encompassing the regions of Lansing, Ann Arbor, Muskegon and some suburbs of Detroit — reversed course and announced they would open for limited hours on Saturday. Michigan Attorney General Bill Schuette, a Republican, filed a motion on Friday night for an emergency stay (PDF) to prevent implementation of Friedman’s ruling pending an appeal to the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals.

Supporters of same-sex marriage wanted to hurry and allow marriages to happen this weekend before the opportunity vanished if the request for a stay was granted by the federal appeals court. And, in fact, by early evening, a stay was issued, halting same-sex marriages in the state until at least Wednesday.

In all, more than 300 couples wed on Saturday, but some couples in Mason, Mich., were in line and then turned away when the stay order came down.

The early morning flood of couples had huddled in line around the Washtenaw County office hours before clerk Larry Kestenbaum opened the doors at 9 a.m. Cars passed honking support, wedding planners called out asking who in the line needed officiants and children sipped free hot cocoa brought by well-wishers, a scene replicated in the other cities where same-sex couples scrambled into action.

“It’s not what we would have dreamed of but we had a commitment ceremony 14 years ago that felt like a wedding even though it wasn’t legally,” said Beth Sherman, a University of Michigan professor who wed Karen Hawver, her mate for 20 years. “But of course, I look forward to the day when couples can plan when they want to do it and how they want to do it and not just have a little window they have to jump through."

One couple conspicuously absent from the marriage frenzy on Saturday was Jayne Rowse and April DeBoer, the mothers of three whose lawsuit led to Friedman’s ruling. Rowse said they would only get married “when we know we can remain married,” alluding to the legal complications that could occur if a stay is granted after some couples marry in Michigan. Their attorneys have advised them against marrying for fear that doing so would jeopardize their standing in the case.

“If they marry and then there’s a stay, then the state could argue that they haven’t been injured because then they’re married,” said attorney Dana Nessel, who argued the case.

The Callisons decided to take that risk. Their aim was to obtain legal recognition so that Kelly may adopt Corbin, who is presently only legally Anne’s son even though the boy is biologically Kelly’s. Anne was the birth mother, so Michigan law has only recognized Anne as his legal guardian, they said. “I can’t adopt my own son,” Kelly Callison said. “It’s just so wrong.”

Once Kestenbaum opened the door, the lobby was flooded with a carnival of giddy families. One woman unrelated to any of the couples being married handed out mums and daffodils from a huge wood basket because “everybody should have flowers when they get married.” The clerk made photocopies of the 14th amendment — the part with the equal protection clause — and had his staff hand them out along with the gold-sealed marriage licenses.

After paying and obtaining the license, couples and their entourages went to the basement where two whiteboards offered lists of officiants who were present to perform everything from a civil ceremony to Native American rites. Two gay University of Michigan law students who assisted in the case collected hundreds of dollars after a prominent local lesbian minister stood on a table and urged those present to donate to the Rowse-DeBoer legal defense fund. The lawsuit cost about $500,000, they said.

Kesterbaum had already smoothed the way for the couples by persuading the Washtenaw County Commission in October to waive the normal $50 fee for shortening the waiting period from three days to one. Instead, same-sex couples marrying on Saturday had to pay only one penny.

In mid-October, the state seemed on the verge of legal same-sex marriage as the lawsuit by a pair of lesbian nurses from suburban Detroit came before Friedman. A Reagan appointee, Friedman was nonetheless expected to strike down the ban as several other federal judges had done since last June’s Supreme Court decision that held that gay couples are entitled to protection against discrimination.

Friedman opted not to rule in October, though, and instead held an unusual two-week trial in which the plaintiffs seeking to marry brought witnesses to attest to the unfairness of their inability to wed. The state, defending the law, brought a series of witnesses who asserted there was research suggesting children are harmed by having same-sex couples or, at least, more research is necessary.

In the ruling Friday, Friedman eviscerated the state’s arguments and dismissed — almost mocked — their experts. He agreed with the plaintiff’s assertion that a theoretical difference in parenting ability is not a standard for deciding who could be married.

After citing various studies about what type of parents turn out the “best” children, he wrote: “Taking the state defendants' position to its logical conclusion, the empirical evidence at hand should require that only rich, educated, suburban-dwelling, married Asians may marry, to the exclusion of all other heterosexual couples. Obviously the state has not adopted this policy and with good reason. The absurdity of such a requirement is self-evident. Optimal academic outcomes for children cannot logically dictate which groups may marry.”

Friedman’s ruling was the 14th consecutive favorable ruling on the federal court level for same-sex marriage proponents since the June decision by the Supreme Court, according to Jon Davidson, director of Lambda Legal, a national gay legal advocacy group.

It was different, however, because he held a trial — only the third live trial in U.S. history on same-sex marriage — and Nessel said she and her team believe that that record of cross-examination of witnesses could become valuable if the U.S. Supreme Court takes up the question of whether same-sex marriage must be legal across the nation.

Other cases seem to be rocketing toward the court before Michigan’s, in particular one in which a federal judge in Utah struck down a similar voter-approved ban on same-sex marriage in December. As in Michigan, there was a period after the ruling but before an appeal for a stay could be heard when same-sex couples could marry, and the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals is now expected to take up that case up on April 10.

For many couples, the early morning excitement would give way to a return to the ordinary Saturday activities. Some couples and their supporters went across the street to Mighty Good Coffee, where a sign at the register offered “free coffee with a marriage license.”

But others, like Sara and Karin Ahbel-Rappe, who had a rabbi marry them under a chuppah and brought wine glasses to smash per the Jewish wedding ritual, had to move on.

“We have our daughter’s dance class at noon,” Sara Ahbel-Rappe said. “We’ve got to get going.”