My Darling Babies ...

Hannah & Olivia, my darling baby girls,

It had been my plan to write a diary during the pregnancy to give you on your 18th birthday but obviously I can’t do that now so I thought I’d write you a letter, on your due date, to let you know all about us.

You came to us after a long and tough road. We went through IVF treatment to get you which was a challenge in itself. From the day of embryo transfer your Daddy started talking to my belly, calling you the ‘bros’ (as in embryos not brothers). I was a bit naughty and December 1^st will forever be one of the greatest days of my life. We got a positive pregnancy test. The first of 8. We just couldn’t believe we had been so lucky. It was also the day West Ham beat Chelsea 3-1 but that was more exciting for me than your dad.

We had to wait three weeks for our ultrasound. We were a mix of nerves and excitement. Our nurse dimmed the lights and promptly found a heartbeat. We were over the moon. As she scanned round to make sure there weren’t any issues. She paused and said “Oh”. We couldn’t believe it – there were two of you. After further scanning we found out that you were identical. Having a multiple pregnancy takes a bit of getting used to. A double blessing. An instant family.

From the moment we got a positive test we started dreaming, the nursery, names, downloading aps on the iPhone to look at development, the future, buying books on amazon (the only thing I allowed myself to buy before the “safe” 12 weeks). We weren’t having a baby, we were having two. It just didn’t seem real. Along with that I was also worried about being a good mother. Would I be able to cope with such tiny bundles needing me for everything? Id wanted nothing more than to be a mother for so long, would it live up to my expectations.

It wasn’t an easy pregnancy. I suffered from hyperemesis, which is severe morning sickness, which meant time off work. When you’re off throwing up 4-5 times an hour it doesn’t make you very productive. It was exhausting but every single second was worth it. Daddy also said he’d never been so pleased to see me being sick.

On December 30^th we got our first scare. I started bleeding. Heavily. Daddy and I rushed into hospital. They saw us and looked after us well but they couldn’t scan us till the next day. It was a very restless night.

The ride into the hospital the next day was very subdued. Daddy kept stroking my hand, telling me it’d be ok and that he’d love me regardless. In my heart of hearts I was convinced it was over. It was a colleague and friend who called us in and lead us to the scan room. I couldn’t look at the scan screen. I couldn’t look at him either. Then Val said the most wonderful words – “I can see both heart beats”. I have never seen such a wonderful look on Daddys face. Joy. Relief. I don’t mind telling you we were all in tears.

I remember having the strangest sensation in my stomach one day. It was feeling very unsettled, almost a fluttering, bubbly sensation. I wanted to make sure things were ok so I got onto Google. Apparently it’s likely to represent babies moving, more common earlier in the pregnancy with twins; however a lot of women don’t notice it.

We were always aware that having identical twins, which is more unusual, but came along with increased issues and risks, the biggest of which is Twin to Twin Syndrome (TTTS) but we would be scanned fortnightly to pick this up as early as possible.

I continued to bleed but they reassured me that everything was ok. They even found an area that was causing it. Still naturally we worried. The time came for the 12 week scan and everything was perfect so we could make the happy announcement. Everyone was so pleased for us. They knew what we’d been through…

I started getting back pain on the 8^th February but it didn’t cause too many issues. The next day things were getting worse and after trying everything to cope at home we decided to go into hospital.

If I described to you what we went through over the next two days, you might cry. At the very least, you’d probably cringe in horror. I’ll spare you the gory details. I didn’t think that each wave of pain was a contraction. My head tried to tell my heart that this wasn’t going to end well, but as long as I was silent I was still a woman expecting a baby. Sadly it wasn’t to be.

 

The hospital staffs were incredible. We knew you were in good hands. When they brought you in for us to see you were in the most gorgeous basket with a little blanket and teddy bear which is now sitting proudly above your daddy’s computer desk in the study. You were so tiny but beautiful. We also had you blessed by one of the hospital chaplains. It was incredibly moving and emotional but it felt like the right thing to do.

I almost didn’t want to come home; I didn’t want to feel as if I was starting a new life. In my little private room I felt safe. I didn’t need to see people if I didn’t want to. You were still close by and I could see you if I wanted to. I wish id held you longer but then it would never have been long enough.  However Dougal and Molly were back home, and apparently missing their mummy. It was difficult, driving in a car like nothing had happened when our whole world had been turned upside down. We stopped off to get sushi, it was something I’d avoided since getting pregnant and in the supermarket people were going about their normal life. Didn’t they know what had happened? Didn’t they realise things would never be the same. Not only that but it seemed everyone was going about with buggies, babies, or heavily pregnant.

Even with all the pain since then, you are without doubt the best thing that’s ever happened to us. Some people don’t understand why we’d get so upset about it but not only had we lost baby daughters but toddlers, teenage, adult daughters too. Don’t want people to feel sorry for us. We got pregnant. We got to see you both. I know there are many who haven’t been so ‘lucky’. Finding your heartbeats after the scare is still one of the best moments of my life.

I want to do something useful and positive with this experience, to help others going through the same thing. Cot death more discussed than still birth and miscarriage but is far less common. I want you to be proud of me.

One comfort it that now at least you’re being looked after by Granny Catherine and Uncle Adam.

I’ve learned things I already knew, but didn’t know. I’ve learned the true meaning of pain. I used to say, after mum died, the worst thing that could ever happen to me, had. I was wrong. I’ve learned how much I love my husband and how much he loves me. I’ve fallen in love with your daddy all over again. How do I respond when people ask me if I have children? I can’t say no because I gave birth to you. We may not have a birth certificate but you were our babies. The world might not see me as a mother but in my heart I know I am. Sadly though I’m mother to angels.

When it happened we wanted to find out why, could anything have been done to save you, could we have noticed x, y or z earlier. Was anyone to blame. There is no point. The fact is that blaming doesn’t get you anywhere. It keeps you stuck. Blaming stops you form moving on with your life. I know I won’t be in this place forever. I will get to a place where I’m happy, if not happy then content.

You were small enough to fit in the palm of my hand and yet the void you left is large enough for me to drown in

My biggest sadness of the whole thing is that you won’t get to find out what an incredible father you have. He is the most wonderful man I know and he will be an incredible father and you will always be his little girls.

I don’t care if people think I should be over it. I don’t care if people think I am ‘over you’ because I’m smiling. You will always be my babies and I will always love you both. Some people are lucky to have a guardian angel, We have two.

So on this sad day we will celebrate you both and hope that we can make you proud. I've no doubt a tear or two will be shed but we will watch the balloons rise up to the sky and hope they make it to heaven...

Watch over us,

Forever yours,

Mummy xx