A Wedding Story

Three years ago looked a little like this:

It was a good day. Minus the vomiting. Oh, you didn't come here for a vomit story? Well then you are in the wrong place. Because you are in for a good one.

Brett and I married on Saturday, August 14, 2010. But this story starts back on Wednesday, August 11. Two of my bridesmaids were in town (my sis and my dear college roommate Amy) and they went with me to the theatre to decorate (see above. It looked awesome. Huge thanks to everyone who made it happen--because I sure didn't). We finished up late Wednesday night, and picked up some Taco Bell on the way home. That was the last time I ever ate Taco Bell.

Thursday morning was fine. My mom had picked up bagels for my bridesmaids, and we munched and got ready to head back to decorate at the theatre. My mom was working, so we were there with my aunt. Brett also skipped out on most of the decorating fun.
 
Not too far into the day, I began feeling really dizzy and cold. I decided to lie on the edge of the stage for a few minutes and regain my balance. Since the theatre is housed in the same building as a preschool, little kids and their teachers kept walking by to see what was happening. They all commented, "I hope that's not the bride that's feeling sick!" Of course, it was.

My aunt Kay eventually moved me to the corner edge of the stage, as they were working on putting black fabric on the floor. I refused to go home, and I felt terrible that my bridesmaids were doing all the work. Kay was pulling fake flowers out of a plastic tote near me, when I shot up and said, "I'm going to puke!"

She pushed the tote under my face and I threw up violently. In about 20 minutes, I felt it again, but made it to the bathroom. That was so much worse, because while I had my face shoved in a toilet, 12 preschools huddled around me, some crying, some trying to watch the event. Kay practically carried me back into the theatre. One more round of vomiting in the tote, and unfortunately my mom called my sister in the middle of it.

Aunt Kay. This lady is amazing. Epitome of "fun aunt." Also, let me puke in her tote. Repeatedly.

"Yeah...Lindsay's puking," Karen says.

"What is it?" my mom asks (meaning, do you think it's just nerves? Or the flu?).

My sister, who is a few feet from me, looks over and tells her, "It appears to be some sort of bagel..."

I started laughing, which wasn't helping the vomit situation, but it lightened the mood. I eventually had to admit I was sick and called Brett. I slept on the floor of the theatre until he came and picked me up when he was off work at 4 p.m.

Two more of my bridesmaids showed up (my cousin Amy and my other dear college roommate Alyssa) and they all managed to decorate the theatre perfectly without my help.

Brett took me back to his apartment where we sat on the couch with the tote near by. I threw up every 15 minutes for the next three hours. When we talked about this time later, we had nearly opposite reactions.

Of course, we'd both been praying throughout our engagement that God would show us if this marriage was really what he had planned for us. Throwing up three days before the wedding was not a good sign to me. And Brett holding my hair back, seeing me at my most vulnerable, was pretty sure to scare him away.

However, according to Brett, he had been praying that God would show him if he could really be a good husband to me. He was praying for reassurance that this was right. And he believed that after taking care of me, even when I was at my worst, proved to him that he could do this and make our marriage work.

Around 9 p.m. my mom and Kay picked us up and drove me to the emergency room. I had to keep drinking blue Gatorade because I would throw up every few minutes no matter what (I also have not drunk blue Gatorade since that day).

My bridesmaids all met me at the emergency room, where they played Doodle Dice in the lobby for a few hours until I was discharged. They are all incredible girls, and I'm so thankful they were there for me. I got some STRONG anti-nausea meds and an IV for the dehydration (it took almost half an hour for them to find a vein because I was so dehydrated and all my veins were collapsed).

Eventually they determined it was food poisoning (no kidding. Taco Bell is the devil). They stocked me up with pills for the next few weeks and let me go home. Brett stayed by my bed the whole time and assured me that we would get married in a hospital room if we had to.

I made it through all of Friday sipping apple juice and eating nothing solid. I maybe had one cracker at our rehearsal dinner. I lost close to 12 pounds in three days...my dress fit better than it ever had in any of my fittings (that's the silver lining of this story if you're looking for one).

On Saturday morning I was exhausted. I ate a banana while my sister did my hair. I was pretty much a zombie through all the picture taking. I have a lot of memories of that day, but it hardly felt like seven hours. My wedding party was wonderful, and my photographer was a lifesaver. I'm so glad for the people who surrounded me that day--they were all very precious gifts.

No idea what's happening here. Karen and Amy may be driving...?

I told Brett to hold my hands tightly during the ceremony. I was worried about fainting since I hadn't eaten in three days. The whole wedding was around 15 minutes which was perfect. When the Rocky theme song came over the theatre speakers, I knew I was married. And I hadn't thrown up in front of everyone I knew.

Back in the foyer, Emily charged at me. This is one of my favorite photos of the entire day:

This girl is my kindred spirit.

Our reception flew by, I was thankful to be wearing a much lighter, cooler dress, and to have my hair pulled back.

 Two dresses = best decision of the day. My mom actually altered this one from a hideous, long-sleeved, Salvation Army monstrosity. It turned out beautiful.

About an hour before we left the reception, I threw up in the bathroom of the little ballroom. I was terrified of it starting all over again. I spent the rest of the reception sitting in chair while Brett schmoozed our guests. He's still a little bitter about that.

I looked like this.

We had to stop back at the theatre quickly before we left on our honeymoon, and I threw up in a paint bucket there. That meant our entire drive to Bloomington was a little shaky--and I held an ice cream pail on my lap.

Thankfully that was the end of it. I recovered (though I don't think I ate solid food until about Tuesday of the next week). While it was not exactly the dream day I was thinking of, it all worked out. I always have to laugh a little when I hear girls stressing about their wedding planning now. I really just want to tell them even if you have Taco Bell food poisoning, it'll still be the best day of your life.

Oh yeah, and that guy who held my hair back while I puked all over his toilet? He's still pretty cool. 

He sends me flowers at work.

And he's pretty hot.

We look like babies on our honeymoon.

I love you, Brett!