October 12th 2024.
I was filled with excitement and confidence when I first learned I was pregnant with twins. It was a shock, of course, but I couldn't help feeling thrilled at the thought of raising two babies at once. Little did I know, my naive expectations were about to be shattered in the most heartbreaking way possible.
Despite experiencing extreme sickness and taking a home pregnancy test, I was still caught off guard when the sonographer announced I was carrying two babies at my 14-week scan. I couldn't believe it when they cheerfully exclaimed, "There's another one!" I was excited and confident that my twin pregnancy would be just fine. Oh, how wrong I was.
I soon learned that multiple pregnancies come with higher risks compared to singletons. I was unaware of the potential complications and the increased likelihood of preterm birth. At my 20-week scan, I was told that the babies were doing well, but I didn't know the statistics - twins are nearly three times more likely to be stillborn and over four times more likely to result in neonatal death compared to a singleton pregnancy.
It wasn't until the consultant in charge of their care seemed cautious and uncertain about their well-being that I realized the gravity of the situation. But up until that point, everything seemed to be going smoothly. We even found out that we were expecting twin boys and started preparing for their arrival with matching outfits and a Winnie the Pooh themed room. We were over the moon when we ordered a pram on September 11th, thinking everything was falling into place.
However, that evening, I woke up to a small bleed and immediately called the hospital. They sent an ambulance, but we decided to drive since we were only five minutes away. At the hospital, the doctors checked the twins' heartbeats and gave me steroids to mature their lungs. They also started calling other hospitals to see if they had two available incubators, just in case. I remember feeling numb and in denial, telling myself everything would be okay.
But almost immediately, we were told we were being transferred to another hospital two hours away. I still didn't fully grasp the seriousness of the situation and thought it was just a precautionary measure. However, during the journey, I started having contractions, although I wasn't sure what they were at the time.
When we arrived at the hospital, I was told that the twins could be viable at 24 weeks, but no one mentioned the possibility of them not surviving. The next morning, one of the twin's heart rates started to decline, and I was rushed to delivery. At 10:30 and 10:44, twin one and twin two were born. But before I could even hold them, they were taken straight to the NICU.
Two hours passed before I was finally able to see my babies for the first time. As I was wheeled to the NICU, I prayed that they would weigh over 2lbs, thinking it would increase their chances of survival. Sadly, they were both just under, but they were perfect and beautiful in every way. I felt that instant rush of love and pride as their mother.
All we could do now was hope and pray that they would survive. Their small size made it difficult to get lines in their tiny veins, and the doctors advised us to take it one day at a time. I never could have imagined that my excitement and joy at carrying twins would turn into the worst heartbreak I have ever experienced - outliving two of my own children. No parent should ever have to endure such a tragedy.
When I first found out that I was pregnant with twins, I couldn't believe it. It was such a shock after experiencing extreme sickness and being 14 weeks into the pregnancy. The sonographer cheerfully announced that there were two babies, and I was filled with excitement at the thought of raising twins. I was confident that everything would be okay, but little did I know the challenges that were to come.
I was naive about the risks associated with multiple pregnancies. I had no idea about the complications that could arise or the higher chances of preterm birth. At my 20-week scan, I was relieved to hear that the babies were doing well. I was also overjoyed to find out that we were expecting twin boys. My husband and I started preparing for their arrival, buying cots, car seats, and matching outfits. We even decorated their room with a Winnie the Pooh theme and struggled to come up with names for them.
Everything seemed to be falling into place, and we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of our twin boys. But then, at exactly 26 weeks pregnant, I woke up to a small bleed. I was a bit concerned, but I reassured myself that bleeding during pregnancy was normal. My husband called the hospital, and they said they would send an ambulance. However, since we only lived five minutes away from the hospital, we decided to drive there instead.
As soon as we arrived, doctors checked the twins' heartbeats and gave me steroids to mature their lungs. They also started making arrangements to transfer us to another hospital with two available incubators, just in case. I remember feeling numb and in denial, telling myself that everything would be okay. But then, we were told that we were being sent to a hospital two hours away.
I was still in denial, thinking it was just a precautionary measure. But on the way to the other hospital, I started experiencing contractions. I wasn't sure if they were real contractions at the time, but I knew something was happening. When we arrived, I was told that the twins could be viable at 24 weeks, but no one mentioned the possibility of them not surviving.
The next morning, one of the twin's heart rates started to decline, and I was rushed into delivery. Sadly, they were both born just under 2lbs. I longed to see and hold them, but they were immediately taken to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). It wasn't until two hours later that I was able to see them for the first time. As I was wheeled to the NICU, I prayed that they would weigh at least 2lbs, thinking that would give them a better chance at survival.
But they were both under 2lbs, and yet they were perfect. They had dark hair and perfectly formed faces, and I felt an instant surge of love for them. All we could do now was hope and pray that they would make it through. The main challenge was their tiny veins, which made it difficult to insert lines. The doctors advised us to take it one day at a time.
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