Twins? Twins? TWINS?

No matter how many times I said the word, it just wouldn’t sink in. And the more I thought about it, the more panicky and sick I felt.

This wasn’t the plan. This was DEFINITELY NOT the plan. 2.4 children and a nice car was the plan. ONE baby brother or sister (pleeease be a sister) for Toddler was the plan. Not effing twins! Did my body not read the memo?

You’ll be unsurprised to hear I’m definitely not one of those people who say they would love twins. You know, get it all out the way in one go, and all that? Why would you want double the sleepless nights, double the shit, double the cost, double those ear-piercing screams? No thanks, ONE baby would do us, thank you very much.

But apparently not. According to the scan, there were two babies in there cooking away nicely. My next thought was ‘Why me?’ Why was this happening to me? (Did I mention this wasn’t the plan?) Why could it not happen to one of those people who ‘wanted’ twins. Or to some of the people I know who have struggled to have children. Why was it happening to the person who least wanted this? Irony is such a bitch.

I sound selfish, I know. But this was how I felt and still do some days. Yes there are thousands of women who would kill to have twins, for whatever reason, but that’s them. This is my life, and this was not what I wanted. But shit happens as they say, and apparently because I was nearly 37 my body was firing out eggs in a panic all over the bloody place. I must have missed that bit at school, as I had no sodding idea that was even a thing. There you go – two eggs, two babies, apparently growing in two separate sacs, ready to turn our world upside down. Whether we liked it or not.

Families informed, best friends texted, nervous laughing, and lots of swear words exchanged, obviously the next important step was the big ‘reveal’ on Facebook. We have our priorities right, don’t you worry. We might as well milk this thing as much as possible and give people a giggle whilst we were emotional wrecks. The Other Half’s post still makes me laugh out loud nearly a year later. I think the general consensus of people’s reactions was along the lines of WTF.  




That night, when the pregnancy insomnia kicked in, my mind went into overdrive. Rather than thinking what maybe I should have been thinking, like how will I cope looking after a toddler and baby twins, how will I bath them, how will I feed them, how will I ever leave the house again? My mind seemed to leap frog the sensible (and real) challenges, and concentrate on the ridiculous middle class problems of how will I take two to Baby Sensory? Do I really have to get rid of my beloved Bugaboo? Sending all three to Waterbabies is going to cost HOW MUCH? The only vaguely realistic thought that crossed my mind that night was – how the hell am I going to give birth to TWINS?! And as if my body was preparing me for what was to come – that was it, no more sleep for me. Pretty much for the rest of my pregnancy.


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