Experiencing Complicated Pregnancies

A hard road to motherhood

Photo by freestocks on Unsplash

I have been pregnant twice and have two children. Sounds straightforward, but believe me, it was not.

My partner and I lost our first son at 19 weeks’ pregnancy. I then gave birth to identical twin boys less than a year later. Becoming a mother was nothing like what I had imagined, seen, and heard it would be. We were elated, frustrated, horrified, angry, and desperate at different parts of our journey, and sometimes all at once. Not to mention in pain, both physically and emotionally.

I want to acknowledge that we are extremely fortunate to have two healthy children, and I do not want to take away from that. I think it is important to share all experiences of pregnancy and motherhood, because voicing what we have been through might help others by normalising how we feel, increasing awareness, and, ultimately, knowing we are not alone.

Caleb (our first) had Triploid Syndrome. This is when the baby’s cells have 69 chromosomes (three sets), rather than 46 (two sets). Sadly, babies with this diagnosis often don’t survive pregnancy, and don’t live long if they do make it to birth.

We did not receive this diagnosis until I was lying on a hospital bed being medically induced. Specialists had been very clear with us that our baby would not survive, and we made the incredibly tough decision to end the pregnancy.

We were lucky to be put in a suite on the labour ward which is specifically designed for bereaved parents. We had a room with a double bed where my partner and I could stay overnight, tea and coffee facilities, and a private bathroom. There was even a nursery, kept cold, where Caleb was placed so we could spend time with him after he was born. The scariest area was the clinical room attached to the suite. Just seeing the bed upon our arrival filled me with sorrow. That bed was where I would give birth to my child, too early. It wasn’t how I imagined my first experience of childbirth.

I naively thought the physical pain of being medically induced would not be so bad, considering I would have painkillers, including morphine if needed. I imagined I would be ‘out of it’ and was more worried for the emotional toll on my partner as I would not have the capacity to offer comfort. It turned out that even with morphine pumped into me every five minutes at one stage, it was incredibly painful. I gave birth. Yes, Caleb was small, and I have nothing to compare my pain to, so I cannot say if it was as bad as another person’s experience. What I can say is that I have never felt such agony. Within an hour of the first medication, I was being sick and writhing in pain. Paracetamol, codeine, and a pethidine injection later, it was still unbearable. Eventually I was hooked up to the morphine, which took the edge off but also sent me to sleep, so that had to be taken away. I was induced three times over four days, after being told it would hopefully all be over in 24 hours.

On 16th December 2023, Caleb was born sleeping. We spent time holding him and gave him forehead kisses, before having to leave and go home without him.

To anyone who asks, I say I have two children, when, in reality, I have three. I consider our first son to be my child, and I feel I became a mother the moment I was pregnant with him. I still say I am a mother to two, mostly because I want other people to feel comfortable. I would also not enjoy repeating that one of our children did not make it when the inevitable questions come: “How old are they?” “What are their names?” So, although I only speak of Caleb to those closest to me, he is always in our hearts and that is what matters most.

My partner and I decided as a couple to celebrate Caleb on his due date every year. We head to a beach, each read him a letter, and collect a shell which we add to a jar at home.

Doctors advised us to wait a few months before trying to conceive again. When I questioned this, they explained that physically we could try again after I had one period, but emotionally we might want to wait until the Spring. We decided to try as soon as possible. Two months later, I was pregnant again.

Triploid Syndrome is incredibly rare, only occurring in one to three percent of pregnancies. So, when I was pregnant again, it was unlikely this condition would reoccur. This did not stop me worrying, of course. I was so anxious that we decided to pay for a private scan at 11 weeks, with me unable to wait until the routine 12-week scan to make sure everything was progressing as it should. We were in for another shock: twins.

This then kicked off a whole series of events, including weekly ultrasound scans, specialist appointments at a tertiary hospital, constant reminders that our pregnancy was ‘high-risk’, and a planned c-section at 34 weeks. The boys were admitted to neonatal intensive care and remained there for three weeks. It was all overwhelming and still feels surreal looking back: not being able to hold your baby straight away, seeing them on oxygen, constantly spinning your head to check if the loud beeps are coming from their machine. And this was on top of the grief we were still processing from losing Caleb.

I stayed in hospital with the boys for two weeks in total, including a readmission as they were not consuming enough milk the first time we took them home. Having them home felt like the finish line, but that line has kept moving ever since.

We have had extreme highs and extreme lows as a family. My partner and I are still very much working through our grief and figuring out our roles as twin parents. We have come through the other side of two complicated pregnancies with trauma, anxieties, and sadness, but also immense pride, resilience, and appreciation.

I am very aware that motherhood will likely continue to both surprise and test me. I am thankful we will face that journey together as a family.