'There are Two Babies...'

Dear Mum,

I will never forget that moment. I had waited for 13 weeks for my first ultrasound scan, and for the last 3 of those weeks 'D' and I had been wondering if there was more than one baby in my quickly expanding belly.

When the ultrasound tech first put the wand on my stomach and immediately lifted it off in a hurry, then turned around to ask me face to face 'is this your first scan' my initial thought was that something was horribly wrong. I had spent the week feeling convinced that there would be no heartbeat, or simply no baby. 

So, when I quietly informed her that yes, it was my first scan, and she turned back to doing the scan and declared 'there are two babies!', I was over the moon. I burst into tears, but these weren't tears of sadness - simply pure emotion.

When I first started thinking that I might be having twins, at around 10 weeks, I was worried. I would joke to D that there better not be two babies because I would never manage. After all, I don't know how to care for one baby let alone two at the same time. I thought that I would be anxious, terrified, maybe even distraught. The truth is that when I heard those words I felt nothing but amazed and delighted.

Our scan was the last scan of the day at the hospital, and as there were two babies to check over, the appointment over ran. When we left the room we sat together in an empty waiting area while our report was drawn up, and we talked about how having twins simply felt right. Like this was always supposed to happen. Despite the fact that we never imagined having twins, or have any twins in the family, the fact that we now had two children on the way seemed completely normal. There was no fear, only elation.

It turns out that the twins are identical. It all feels incredibly special, and though it makes my toes curl to say it I really do feel blessed. It's so easy to focus on the hard parts of life - but D put it perfectly the other day when he said 'we really do lead a charmed life', and we do.

Of course, there is one thing that I would change. I would love for you to be here. I know that the only thing you felt like you missed out on in life was being a grandparent, and my heart aches that my children won't get to meet you. But they will know you. They'll know all about you, and rest assured that you are still their grandma. Nothing can change that, not even death.

This is the place that I can put down in writing all the things that I want to tell you, from those first movements twitching away in my beach ball of a belly, to the antics of two identical toddlers learning about the world around them.

We're in for a long ride, and it's going to be quite the adventure.