I am the mother of twins.  

Please allow me to share my story with all of you- My husband and I had tried to get pregnant for four long years. We went through so many procedures and tests. You cannot imagine the devastation when I found out it was very unlikely I would ever get pregnant on my own. I had gone to the appointment by myself figuring things were great and my husband was on his way up to hunting camp over 300 miles away. I can’t believe I kept it together so long in the office however once in my car I let the flood of emotion wash over me and let the tears flow. I called my husband almost hysterical and explained the situation between sobs. He barely understood me. I had endometriosis which creates toxins not conducive to getting pregnant.

After much debate we decided to dive into the in-vitro fertilization process with some family members telling us we were crazy; we might have 8 kids or something. We sold our house so we could use all the collateral we had in it, closed our retirement accounts and began the long process of shots, blood draws and daily appointments. Ignorance can be bliss because when I was told I had an 83% chance of this working,  I didn’t realize they meant in the first 3 tries. I just knew it was going to take on the first one.  It did. 

Only a woman who has been told she has two tiny heartbeats can imagine the bliss of being pregnant with twins. I was in awe. My husband was a little shaken. We had two tiny heart-beating peanuts in one tiny sac. We were having identicals. I had hoped for a girl and a boy in this process however my siblings assured me this was so much cooler.At sixteen and a half weeks we were going in for our third ultra sound; this one to find out the sex. We were having boys. I loved watching them move around and my friend was in awe. We never realized they were concerned and taking extra long until the doctor came in. We had TTTS or Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. As they explained this evil syndrome, I felt like I had an enormous slab of concrete sitting on my chest. I maintained my composer in the office, but I’m not sure how. I felt anything but calm. My miracle pregnancy was in jeopardy and the long battle began.  

Every appointment there was more devastating news. We had to make the most difficult choices of our lives. As they struggled, so did we and I continued to be strong and positive despite everything. As their tiny hearts began to give out we were sent to a fertility center to save our babies. Only our doctors could not save both lives and we lost our sweet donor. It was the worst day of my life.   Yet I was still pregnant and the very next day they were seeing improvement in our recipient’s heart. I had to stay calm and focused and most importantly positive. Our battle had just begun as I had an ever shortening cervix, constant contractions and a long tour of bed-rest in the hospital.  The day had come to deliver these sweet babies. We had somehow, by the power of prayer, made it to 36 weeks. Not even my doctors could believe it. You cannot imagine the power of this bitter sweet moment; the bliss of delivering a baby that has struggled so hard, have him snuggled even for a moment in your arms and know he is safe (yet his journey was far from over), and the shear devastation of delivering a baby so tiny, so still and holding him in the palm of your hand wishing things were different. The pain is unbearable.

Time heals all wounds they say, however as a wound heals and begins to close it is often jagged, rough, red and ugly. It is often raised and occasionally even sore. Over time it softens and fades but it never disappears. It is always there to remind us of our battles and our losses.   I was often shocked when people would say with the best of intentions, “Well at least you still have one baby.” As if this was some sort of consolation for my troubles. You would never say to someone who has lost a leg, “Well at least you still have the other leg.” Yet I have now met families who went home after their long toils with pregnancy empty handed and with not even one of their babies.  So in a way I am blessed that at least I do still have one single twin survivor.  

My son is now almost 3 and I love him with all my heart, however there is always something missing.  I don’t get to know what it is like to hear them giggle together or wonder what trouble they are conjuring up together. I don’t get to watch them both blow out their birthday candles together. I am the mother of a single twin survivor. I honor and celebrate my children every day by working with the Fetal Hope Foundation. I help spread awareness. I provide support to families who have lost one or both of their babies. I help organize events to raise money to help other families save their babies. I help provide hope!!

I am the mother of Twins!! 

I encourage everyone to help provide hope by donating, participating in the Fetal Hope events, and/or volunteering.