On Sunday, May Bank Holiday 2019, what should’ve been the most joyous 24 hours turned into our worst nightmare. The series of events are so clear and daily I replay them in my mind and the question is why us?  I was 39 weeks 5 Days pregnant, having had a smooth & healthy pregnancy thus far.

When I woke up that Sunday morning, the sun was shining and life was good. I had been experiencing some mild contractions but nothing untoward, I still however called the pregnancy advice line. I was advised to carry on the day as normal and to call if the pains were more frequent.

Later that evening, I went for a shower and the contractions were beginning to get stronger and soon after I lost my mucas plug. I called the hospital to inform them I’d like to come in as I had also noticed that I was bleeding and immediately started to worry.

I am writing this blog forever changed. Changed in a way that I barely recognise myself from the young girl who had no knowledge of what life and the universe can do to you. Changed to never enjoy the blissful naivety of a smooth pregnancy.  Before this change though, we were that smug couple who conceived quickly, and I admit, we were sucked in. Racing ahead to how we would announce it. Names. Prams. All that jazz. (You know, that fairytale of pregnancy you assume you get handed after seeing those two lines?). We floated in that bubble for a while, then went to an early 6 week scan to get some painful twinges checked out. ‘There’s one, and there’s the other one. It’s twins’. Such casual words that were said by the sonographer as she confirmed all looked fine. But words that would change our lives forever. We were having twins. ‘I am Beyoncè’ I declared to my husband, as we stood in the empty lift that took us back to the hospital car park. (I was shitting myself in all honesty, but humour is where I go to when I don’t know what to say.)