Sam Vanderpump has tied the knot to his pregnant wife during a stunning intimate wedding, following his end-stage liver disease diagnosis.

The 28-year-old reality star – who found fame on Made In Chelsea – caught an infection due to a genetic liver disease and was hospitalised last year over the festive season. In October, he stated that without a transplant, his life expectancy might be only a few more years.

However, Sam is determined to live life to the fullest with his partner Alice Yaxley, who is pregnant with their first child. And, this weekend, the pair made things official and got married! Here, we’re taking a look inside their lush wedding…

The pair have made things official! (Credit: SplashNews.com)

Inside Sam Vanderpump’s intimate wedding

Made in Chelsea star Sam and Alice – who met in July last year – got married on Sunday (December 14) at the Kensington and Chelsea Register office in West London.

The newlyweds kept the ceremony very low-key and tied the knot in front of just a handful of loved ones. Afterwards, they celebrated with a luxury dinner.

But it turns out that this will not be the only wedding Sam and Alice are having. The pair are planning to host a larger celebration in May 2027, after welcoming their son – who they’ll call Marmaduke – in February.

Sam didn’t want to wait to tie the knot after ‘nearly dying’ (Credit: Aaron Knightly YouTube)

‘Why wait two years?’

As Hello Magazine reports, Sam and Alice were originally planning a big wedding. But while Sam was still in good health, and ahead of the birth of their son early next year, they decided to tie the knot.

“I knew from the moment I met Alice that, if I was lucky enough, she’d be the girl I was going to marry but I felt you couldn’t do that after six or 12 months,” Sam told the publication.

He added: “But after nearly dying, it put everything into perspective. Any second, anything can happen in life. I love her to pieces. I want to marry her. Why wait two years?”

His wife struggled to find a dress for the big day (Credit: SplashNews.com)

Alice’s ‘nightmare’ before her big day

For her special day, model Alice – who is seven months pregnant – oozed elegance and style in a sensational white Caroline Castigliano dress that had a full-length veil with train. The dress boasted a plunging neckline and showed off her blossoming baby bump.

Posing for snaps alongside Sam, who is the nephew of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star Lisa Vanderpump, Alice was seen clutching a stunning red bouquet of flowers. She also wore a stunning necklace encrusted with diamonds.

A dapper Sam, meanwhile, looked handsome in a white jacket and black trousers and red boutonnière as he beamed to the camera.

But finding a dress wasn’t easy for Alice. The pregnant star previously revealed she had a “nightmare” trying to find the perfect gown.

In a TikTok video she shared earlier this week, Alice said: “I’ve had an absolute nightmare trying to find dresses. Especially being pregnant. And I’ve been ordering them all online and not really going to a wedding shop because it’s so last minute. I don’t really have time to do it.

“This is not my proper wedding. My proper wedding is in 2027, this is just like our official registry office wedding.”

Fans react to Sam’s wedding

Photos from Sam and Alice’s big day were shared to Hello Magazine’s Instagram page, as well as their own pages. And, as expected, their fans soon rushed to the comments section to send their congratulations.

One person gushed: “Congratulations, beautiful couple. You look stunning. Wow.”

Another added: “Alice, what a strong young lady you are. Sending best wishes to you both. My heart breaks for you both, Enjoy every moment together. Merry Christmas.”

A third also chimed in and said: “You look beautiful Alice. Congratulations to you and Sam.”

The wedding of Sam Vanderpump and Alice Yaxley was never going to be conventional, but few could have imagined just how emotionally charged, urgent, and deeply human it would become. Set against the stark reality of Sam’s battle with end-stage liver disease and Alice’s visibly advanced pregnancy, the ceremony was not about spectacle or perfection. It was about time, love, and choosing one another in the face of uncertainty. Every detail, from the rushed planning to the tearful vows, reflected a couple determined to anchor themselves to joy while standing at the edge of profound fear.

Sam’s health has shaped every aspect of the past year. Living with end-stage liver disease is not a distant or abstract diagnosis; it is a daily confrontation with fatigue, pain, and the knowledge that the future cannot be taken for granted. For Sam, the illness has stripped life down to its essentials. What matters, what endures, and what must be said now rather than later. The decision to marry Alice was born not from panic, but from clarity. He did not want love deferred or words left unsaid.

Alice, heavily pregnant and navigating her own physical and emotional demands, found herself preparing for motherhood while also facing the possibility of loss. Pregnancy is often described as a time of anticipation and hope, but for Alice it has been layered with anxiety and fierce determination. Carrying new life while loving someone whose own health is so fragile creates a tension that is almost impossible to articulate. The wedding became a moment of convergence — life beginning and life under threat, joy and grief standing side by side.

The whirlwind nature of the ceremony was not about impulsivity, but necessity. Plans were made quickly because time felt precious and unpredictable. There was no luxury of long engagements or drawn-out deliberation. Friends and family rallied, understanding instinctively that this was not a wedding to be postponed. It was a declaration made in the present, anchored in the now.

Those closest to the couple describe an atmosphere that was both celebratory and solemn. Laughter sat alongside tears. Smiles wavered but did not disappear. Guests were acutely aware that they were witnessing something rare — not just a wedding, but an act of courage. Sam, visibly weakened yet resolute, insisted on standing for the ceremony. Alice, radiant despite exhaustion, supported him physically and emotionally, embodying the partnership they were promising each other.

The vows themselves were raw and unpolished, stripped of platitudes. Sam spoke openly about fear, about gratitude, about the comfort Alice has brought him in his darkest moments. He did not promise a lifetime without hardship; he promised honesty, presence, and love in whatever time they are given. Alice’s words were equally powerful. She spoke of choosing Sam every day, regardless of outcomes, and of building a family rooted in truth rather than illusion.

For Alice, marrying while heavily pregnant carried its own symbolism. She stood not only as a bride, but as a mother-to-be, already holding the future in her body. The child they are expecting was never an abstract hope; it was present, tangible, moving. The baby’s imminent arrival added urgency to everything, a reminder that even as Sam’s body struggles, life continues to push forward.

The setting was deliberately simple. There were no extravagant displays, no distractions from the emotional core of the day. Every choice reflected the couple’s priorities: comfort, accessibility, and intimacy. Sam’s health dictated the pace and structure, with breaks built in and medical needs quietly accommodated without fanfare. This was not a wedding that pretended illness did not exist; it was one that made space for it.

Friends have spoken of the profound stillness during the ceremony, a sense that time slowed as Sam and Alice exchanged rings. In that moment, the noise of the outside world — medical appointments, prognoses, waiting lists — receded. What remained was a promise made freely and consciously, without denial or false hope.

Sam’s battle with end-stage liver disease has been long and complex. The condition has reshaped his body and his outlook, forcing him to relinquish control and accept help in ways he once resisted. Alice has been at the centre of that journey, advocating for him, supporting him through hospital stays, and shouldering the emotional weight of uncertainty. Their relationship has been forged not in ease, but in endurance.

The wedding was also a moment of affirmation for Alice. Too often, partners of chronically ill individuals are defined by sacrifice alone. This day recognised her not just as a caregiver, but as a bride, a woman choosing love and partnership on her own terms. Her joy was not diminished by circumstance; it was sharpened by it.

Family members described the day as emotionally overwhelming. There was pride in Sam’s strength, admiration for Alice’s resilience, and an undercurrent of grief that no one tried to suppress. This honesty gave the ceremony its power. There was no insistence on forced positivity, no attempt to pretend everything was fine. Instead, there was acceptance — of fear, of hope, of love in all its complexity.

The presence of the unborn child was felt deeply. Conversations often returned to the baby, to names, to dreams, to the future Alice hopes to give them. Sam spoke quietly to Alice’s belly, moments that left those nearby visibly moved. These were not gestures of denial, but of connection — a way of claiming relationship regardless of outcome.

After the ceremony, celebrations were gentle and unhurried. Sam’s energy was limited, and the couple were careful not to push beyond what his body could manage. Guests adapted instinctively, understanding that the day was not about entertainment, but about presence. Every embrace felt longer, every word more intentional.

The wedding did not resolve the reality of Sam’s illness. There was no illusion that vows could cure disease or guarantee time. What it did offer was grounding — a sense of meaning and belonging that illness so often erodes. For Sam, becoming a husband was a way of asserting identity beyond diagnosis. For Alice, becoming a wife was an affirmation that love does not wait for perfect conditions.

Living with end-stage liver disease means living with uncertainty. Prognoses shift, treatments fluctuate, hope rises and falls. The wedding was not a promise of longevity, but of commitment within uncertainty. That distinction matters. It reflects a maturity and realism that has defined Sam and Alice’s journey together.

Alice’s pregnancy continues alongside Sam’s treatment, a parallel process of vulnerability and resilience. She has spoken privately about the emotional whiplash of preparing for birth while fearing loss. The wedding did not erase that tension, but it gave her a moment of solidity — a memory of choice and love she can carry forward regardless of what comes next.

Those who attended have described the day as transformative. It reframed what a wedding can be, stripping away expectation and focusing on essence. Love was not idealised; it was embodied. Commitment was not abstract; it was lived.

In the days following the ceremony, Sam returned to the realities of medical care. Appointments continued. Monitoring resumed. Life did not pause. But something fundamental had shifted. He was no longer navigating illness alone; he was doing so as a husband, anchored by a promise made openly and deliberately.

For Alice, the wedding marked a transition not just into marriage, but into a future she cannot fully predict. She faces motherhood with courage, carrying both hope and grief. The ceremony did not simplify her path, but it strengthened her footing on it.

The story of Sam Vanderpump and Alice Yaxley’s whirlwind wedding is not one of tragedy, though illness looms large. It is a story of agency in the face of limitation, of love chosen without guarantees, of life asserted even as it feels fragile. It challenges the idea that joy must wait for safety, that commitment requires certainty.

In marrying now, Sam and Alice refused to let illness dictate the shape of their love. They acknowledged fear without surrendering to it. They honoured the present without denying the future’s unpredictability. Their wedding stands as a testament to what it means to love honestly, urgently, and without illusion.

As Alice prepares to welcome their child, and Sam continues his fight with end-stage liver disease, the vows they exchanged remain a constant. Not as a shield against pain, but as a source of meaning within it. In the midst of medical charts and prenatal plans, they have claimed a moment of truth that belongs entirely to them.

Their whirlwind wedding was not about defying reality, but about meeting it head-on. It was about saying yes in a world full of maybes, about choosing connection over delay, about recognising that love does not become less meaningful because time is uncertain. If anything, it becomes more so.

In that sense, Sam and Alice’s wedding was not just an event, but a declaration — that even at life’s most fragile edges, commitment, joy, and love still have a place, and that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is say “now,” and mean it with everything you have.

As the days following the wedding unfold, the emotional weight of what Sam and Alice have chosen continues to settle in quiet, profound ways. The ceremony may be over, the rings exchanged, the photographs taken, but the meaning of that day keeps expanding rather than receding. It lives in the smallest moments now — in the way Alice instinctively reaches for Sam’s hand during hospital visits, in the way Sam introduces her as his wife with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though the word itself carries strength.

Marriage did not change Sam’s diagnosis, but it changed how he carries it. Illness has a way of shrinking a person’s sense of identity, reducing them to charts, symptoms, and waiting rooms. Becoming a husband restored something essential. It reminded him that he is not just a patient or a prognosis, but a partner, a man deeply loved, someone whose presence matters beyond medical outcomes. That shift, though invisible to scans and tests, is emotionally transformative.

For Alice, the wedding has become an emotional anchor as her pregnancy advances. Each kick, each ache, each sleepless night is now intertwined with the memory of standing beside Sam and choosing him openly, without hesitation. She carries that memory as she carries their child — not as reassurance that everything will be okay, but as proof that love has already been lived fully, regardless of what comes next.

There are moments when fear rises sharply, catching her off guard. A quiet evening can suddenly feel too quiet. A routine hospital update can spiral into catastrophic thinking. In those moments, Alice returns mentally to the vows they exchanged. Not the words themselves, but the intention behind them. The honesty. The courage. The refusal to pretend. Those memories ground her when uncertainty threatens to overwhelm.

Sam, too, has moments of reckoning. Fatigue still hits hard. Pain still interrupts ordinary days. There are mornings when his body feels like a betrayal, when the future feels unbearably close and frighteningly unclear. But now, those moments are softened by companionship. Alice’s presence does not fix what is broken, but it makes brokenness survivable.

Their relationship, already forged in crisis, deepens into something quieter and more resilient. There is less urgency now, not because time feels abundant, but because they have said what mattered most. The wedding lifted a burden neither fully recognised until it was gone — the burden of unfinished intention. They are married not because everything is aligned, but because love demanded expression.

Friends and family continue to process what they witnessed. Many describe the wedding as something that changed them, altering how they think about commitment, timing, and what truly matters. Some admit it forced them to confront their own fears of loss and vulnerability. Others speak of being inspired by Sam and Alice’s clarity — their refusal to wait for permission from circumstances to live fully.

There is grief woven into that inspiration. No one denies the seriousness of Sam’s condition. No one pretends the road ahead will be easy or fair. But grief and hope are no longer opposing forces in this story. They coexist, informing each other, giving depth rather than contradiction. This emotional honesty is what made the wedding resonate so deeply with those who attended.

As Alice prepares for the birth of their child, the duality of her experience intensifies. Baby clothes sit folded beside medical paperwork. Nursery conversations happen alongside discussions about treatment plans. Joy and fear share the same physical space. It is exhausting and beautiful and terrifying all at once. The wedding did not simplify this reality, but it gave it context — a reminder that love has already taken root, even in unstable ground.

Sam speaks often about wanting to be present, about focusing on what he can give rather than what he may lose. Presence, for him, is not about grand gestures. It is about listening. About holding Alice when she cries without trying to fix the unfixable. About talking to their unborn child, sharing stories, hopes, and affection without promises he cannot guarantee. These moments matter more to him now than any abstract future.

There is a tenderness in how Sam and Alice move together since the wedding. They are gentler with each other, more patient, less distracted by small irritations. When time feels uncertain, pettiness falls away. What remains is care in its purest form — attention, kindness, and shared silence.

The wedding itself has become a kind of emotional landmark. On difficult days, they refer back to it not as an escape, but as a reminder of intention. “We chose this,” Alice will say. Or Sam will quietly respond, “I still choose you.” These words carry weight because they were spoken not in ignorance, but in full awareness of risk.

Living with end-stage liver disease means living with unpredictability. There are good days and bad days, moments of cautious optimism and moments of deep despair. The marriage does not shield Sam from this reality, but it gives him language for it. He is not facing illness alone; he is facing it as someone deeply connected, someone whose life has meaning beyond survival.

For Alice, marriage has clarified her role not as a martyr, but as a partner. She is not sacrificing herself for love; she is participating in it fully, consciously, and with agency. That distinction matters. It allows her to care without losing herself, to love without erasing her own needs or fears.

As the due date approaches, emotions intensify again. The idea of new life entering the world while Sam’s health remains precarious is overwhelming. Alice feels fierce protectiveness, not just toward her baby, but toward the fragile balance they have built. She knows there will be moments when strength fails, when grief feels too close. But she also knows she is not walking into motherhood unsupported.

Sam’s hopes for his child are simple and profound. He speaks less about milestones and more about moments. About laughter. About kindness. About being known. He does not measure fatherhood by duration, but by depth. In this way, illness has refined his sense of what truly matters.

The wedding did something subtle but powerful: it reframed time. Instead of measuring it in terms of how much might be left, Sam and Alice measure it in terms of how fully it is lived. A day spent honestly, lovingly, present with each other holds value regardless of how many days follow it. This perspective does not erase fear, but it gives fear less control.

Their story resists easy categorisation. It is not a tragedy, though suffering is real. It is not a fairy tale, though love is central. It is a story of deliberate choice in the face of uncertainty, of commitment without guarantees, of joy that exists not because circumstances are kind, but because people are brave.

The wedding will likely remain one of the most emotionally significant days of their lives, not because it marked a beginning, but because it crystallised everything they stand for together. It was a moment when fear did not win, when postponement was rejected, when love was spoken out loud and without conditions.

As life continues, there will be challenges that test even the strongest bonds. There will be exhaustion, frustration, grief, and moments of anger at the unfairness of it all. Sam and Alice do not pretend otherwise. But they face those challenges with a shared foundation that cannot be undone — the knowledge that they chose each other fully, with eyes open.

Their marriage is not a shield against pain, but it is a source of meaning within it. It gives shape to their days, purpose to their endurance, and depth to their love. In a world that often tells people to wait until conditions are perfect, Sam and Alice have done the opposite. They have loved now, committed now, lived now.

In that sense, their whirlwind wedding is not defined by illness or pregnancy, though both are central. It is defined by agency. By the refusal to let fear dictate the terms of love. By the understanding that life’s most important moments are not those that happen when everything is safe, but those that happen when everything is uncertain.

As they move forward — into parenthood, into treatment, into whatever the future holds — the vows they exchanged remain a steady presence. Not a promise of outcomes, but a promise of presence. Of truth. Of choosing each other again and again, even when the path ahead is unclear.

And perhaps that is what makes their story resonate so deeply. It reminds us that love does not require certainty to be real, that commitment does not need guarantees to be meaningful, and that sometimes the most profound acts of courage are quiet ones — standing still, holding hands, and saying yes to each other in a world that offers no assurances.

Sam and Alice’s wedding was not a pause in their struggle, but a declaration within it. A moment of clarity carved out of chaos. A reminder that even at life’s most fragile edges, love can still be chosen, spoken, and lived with extraordinary depth.

In the end, their story is not about how much time they will have, but about how they are using the time they do. And in choosing marriage, honesty, and connection in the midst of uncertainty, Sam Vanderpump and Alice Yaxley have already created something enduring — a love story defined not by length, but by courage, presence, and truth.