So it begins.
The tenth anniversaries of when I lost my babies have now begun with today.
10 years ago today, I went into labour at work, sat at my desk. I remember panicking and sobbing with the pain and the thought that the precious lives I was carrying were in danger.
I remember it being a Friday, as the next day was Saturday and the day I was to return to St Helens to pick up my new car, a Vauxhall Meriva. I was supposed to be driving back over the Pennines in my small blue Corsa and exchanging it for my new car. An MPV, the Meriva was perfect for our growing family.
I would eventually be united with my new vehicle when I eventually left hospital, without my twin girls.
I remember when I asked for help, when a colleague asked me if I was feeling alright. I just looked at her and responded that I wasn’t feeling great and that I was in pain.
The next thing I knew, I was rushed to hospital by my colleague and inspected in the delivery suite as soon as I arrived. Within hours, I had discovered that I was in labour and that I was leaking amniotic fluid. The risk to my babies, was great.
Today is a tough day, because I remember feeling hopeful. I remember thinking that bad things like losing twins happen to people in magazines. I didn’t think that these terrible things were about to happen to me.
Sometimes hope is a bitter pill to swallow. It keeps you holding on when it is useless, it lies to you and tells you things will be fine. Instead of comforting, hope can be deceitful and poisonous.
I will never stop wanting and needing my beloved twin daughters.
Always loved, never forgotten.