I quit caring that I was pooping every 20 minutes in our Honeymoon Suite right in front of my new forever man.

I quit caring that we were on our honeymoon. I simply quit putting my clothes back on. He sat in a chair next to the bed as I groaned and complained – helping me – encouraging me – being there for me.Īs the trips to the bathroom started winding down, all my strength and energy and modesty were gone. He was dabbing my sweaty head with a cool wash rag. Every 20 minutes throughout the entire morning, I was running to the bathroom and then crawling back to bed. I had to tell my husband of 3 days that I had the stomach bug. I was about to ruin it all with a reality check of “the runs.” I wanted to pretend all was well so we could go snorkeling and continue being flirty and sexy and enjoying our fairy tale of love and romance and happiness and fun. I knew that something was going to come out somewhere.

However, the next morning on day 3, I awoke to a gurgling stomach – churning – aching. We drank wine–all while gazing into each other’s eyes as the waves crashed on the shore nearby. On the evening of Day 2, we dined at a gorgeous beach side restaurant. My husband had no idea how quickly I would bank on those vows!ĭay 1 and Day 2 of our honeymoon were filled with splashes in the pool, walks along the beach, sunset watching, giant bike riding in the ocean, and seeing each other at our best–our sexiest outfits, our most agreeable moods, and our most fun and adventurous spirits. It was just three days after our big wedding, our “I Do’s,” our commitment to spend the rest of our lives together.

A day I learned what marriage was really about. It was Day 3 of our honeymoon…dun…dun…dun! A day I will never forget.

School mate 2 running very slowly