Bride and groom who spent wedding night in hospital and can’t stomach looking at their wedding album because they look so ill.

Falling in love at school, I’d waited a long time to marry Carl before he finally asked the question I’d been waiting for.

‘Yes,’ I squealed keen to set a date straight away.

At first we decided to get married two years later in 2012 but we were so busy at work we decided to postpone until the following year.

Only my sister was already due to get married on 2013, so we settled on 2014.

It was four years off but I’d already waited a long time to marry Carl and at least it gave us plenty of time to plan our day.

Only not long after we booked our date my sister made an announcement. She was pregnant and the baby was due around the same time as the wedding.

As we were getting married abroad it meant she couldn’t be a bridesmaid like I’d hoped.

I was happy and disappointed all at once. But: ‘If that’s the only thing that goes wrong I can live with it,’ I said to Carl.

Soon we were busy planning all the details of our dream ceremony in Turkey.

‘Won’t it be amazing to arrive by speedboat.’ I said dreamily as we also decided on a Turkish feast and sunset cruise.

Finally a week before our wedding mum and dad flew out with the rest of our guests to enjoy a week’s holiday before the ceremony

Only they looked anxious and I knew why.

My sister hadn’t given birth yet. I felt guilty that they would be missing the arrival of their first grandchild.

Finally the night before Carl and I were due to fly out the baby was born.

‘Congratulations,’ I gushed to my sister before rushing to the airport. ‘ Everything will be fine now,’ Carl promised as we relaxed into our seats.

We enjoyed a blissful few days topping up our tans and getting ready for the ceremony until finally the night before the wedding arrived.

As I drifted off to sleep I couldn’t wait for the big day.

But when I woke in the morning my tummy was doing summersaults.

‘It’s just nerves,’ mum said as we went for breakfast.

I nibbled dry toast and hoped it would pass. But back in the room I kept needing to dash to the toilet.

In the hair saloon where I was supposed to be having my nails and make up done too I spent more time on the loo than in the chair.

By now my stomach was in agony and running to the toilet for the hundredth time I burst into tears.

When it was time to zip up my dress I felt like vomiting. ‘I can’t believe I feel so ill on my wedding day,’ I fretted.

Up until them I’d believed Carl was fine but then news came that he was curled in the foetal position on the floor with stomach pains I burst into tears.

We were due to be marring in two hours. ‘ Just call it off,’ I cried, dashing off to the loo again clutching my stomach.

But Carl insisted we carry on. So I gathered my strength and took dad’s arm.  Suddenly that speedboat arrival I’d been dreaming off didn’t look quite so appealing.

I prayed I would make the journey without vomiting on my dress. Relief washed as we headed into shore but when I saw Carl I was shocked.

I had never seen anyone look so unwell. I made my way up the aisle towards my green looking groom.

We were both sweating with a fever when we made our vows. Talk about in sickness and in health, I thought trying to look happy.

As our glasses were filled with champagne both Carl and I had to turn away. Then he bolted off to the loo again.

Next it was time for the sunset cruise photo shoot. Between frames we both lay on the floor of the boat trying not to be sick.

Every time we hit and wave Carl and I gagged and held our stomachs. Eventually I couldn’t take anymore. ‘I need to get off,’ I croaked.

Back at the bay the Turkish feast we’d arranged was about to be served.

But the smell of food was unbearable. I looked up to see Carl throwing up off the jetty into the sea.

We couldn’t even manage a crumb of our wedding cake and the heat was making us feel even worse.

After that I tried to rush though it all as quickly as possible. Eventually we couldn’t take anymore and I asked the wedding planner to wrap it up two hours early.

I cried when I realised we’d have to get back onto the boat. Our guests kindly placed a bucket and some toilet roll next to us to us for the journey back as man and wife.

Carl was so ill that our wedding planner became concerned. She got out her phone and called a doctor.

He was waiting for us at reception. He took one look at Carl and called an ambulance.

We went back to our room to ditch our wedding gear and clambered into the back of the ambulance together.

Arriving at the local hospital Carl was quickly diagnosed with severe dehydration. Doctors said we were both suffering from gastro enteritis.

We’d most likely picked it up at one of the tourist restaurants we’d eaten in before the wedding.

Carl was hooked up to a drip. It soon became clear we would be spending our wedding night in hospital.

When staff heard it was our wedding night they moved us to the maternity suite so I could stay next to my new husband on a camp bed.

‘Not exactly how I imagined out first might as man and wife,’ I muttered. But we both felt too ill to say much more.

The following morning Carl was discharged with a bag of pills to take and we made our way back to the hotel where we climbed into bed still feeling awful.

The following day we heard some of our guests were now ill too. It was another two days before we managed to leave the room and even then we could only eat dry bread.

It was a relief to get on the plane home. We already had a reception planned at home and I hoped that would make up for the upset of our wedding.

But after a great start a fight broke out and it was shut down early. ‘ I give up,’ I huffed to Carl taking my dress off.

I worked out we’d spent close to £13,000 on two of the worst days of our life.

The credit card bill each month was even harder to swallow than the wedding cake had been.

‘We’ll never be able to afford another wedding,’ Carl said. But maybe that isn’t a bad thing. I’ve had enough of weddings to last me a life time.

ENDS