It took me four and a half years to utter the words, “I had a twin.” My third child, Aiden, was part of a set. The loss of his sibling was so traumatic that I’ve kept that experience hidden away, alongside the hospital blanket and memory box gifted by the compassionate nurses.
When I first learned I was expecting twins, my husband and I embraced the joy most parents feel. We bought matching outfits, adorned ourselves with twin-themed maternity shirts, and even upgraded to a minivan. Our family was expanding from four to six, and we were over the moon. Having already faced a devastating loss before Aiden, I believed that this was a blessing in disguise—two new lives to cherish.
However, during a routine ultrasound at the midpoint of my pregnancy, time seemed to freeze as the sonographer took an unusually long time. Tears streamed down my face as I braced myself for the impending bad news. I had been here before, and the familiarity of the moment was chilling. How could this happen to me again? My pleas for hope fell on deaf ears as we learned that Baby A had passed away. For no discernible reason, he was gone, while Baby B remained strong.
At that moment, the reality hit me: my body was at a crossroads. It could either acknowledge the surviving baby and continue, or it could recognize the loss and expel both. I felt paralyzed, unable to breathe, and overwhelmed by a wave of emptiness. I had to inform everyone that my situation had drastically changed, and the well-meaning comments only deepened my heartache. “At least you have one baby” or “You’re lucky to have other healthy kids” stung painfully. Yes, I was grateful for Aiden and my two other children, but I was also left mourning the loss of my other baby.
Carrying one living child and one that was gone was a unique kind of grief. I donned my figurative “mommy pants” and tried to cope, praying that my lost baby would watch over Aiden during the remainder of my pregnancy. I focused on staying healthy for Aiden, even hiring someone to drive me due to my anxiety.
When Aiden finally arrived, the relief was indescribable. He was my miracle. But moments later, I was faced with a harsh reality: “Are you ready? We need to retrieve the other baby.” I momentarily forgot about the impending loss I had to face. I held Aiden tightly as I prepared to say goodbye to Baby A, whom we named Gabriel.
He was wrapped in his placenta, a bittersweet sight. With the guidance of my pastor and medical staff, we made the difficult choice to donate Gabriel to science, hoping to contribute to a better understanding of such losses. It was a tough decision, but we believed it was for the best.
I had never dared to open the memory boxes for Gabriel until now, but I mustered the courage to confront those memories. Inside, I found ultrasound images and heartfelt messages from the labor team, as well as items like a blanket. I even considered turning his gold charm into something special for Aiden to wear when he’s older.
Aiden has a free-spirited nature, and I often let him roam. I find comfort in believing that Gabriel watches over him as a guardian angel. Explaining the concept of being a twin to Aiden will be a conversation for another day. I trust that I’ll know when the time is right.
Losing a child during pregnancy creates an irreplaceable void. This is partly why I welcomed my fourth surprise baby, Leo, with open arms. He has brought immense joy and helped complete our family. While there will always be sadness about what could have been, we are moving forward. Aiden is now a proud big brother to Leo, and it feels like everything happened for a reason—if I hadn’t lost Gabriel, Leo wouldn’t be here.
I know many others share similar heartaches, even if it’s a topic seldom discussed. Through my blog, I aim to create a community where those who have experienced twin loss can find support and understanding. If you’ve endured a similar experience, know that resources are available. Consider visiting twinlesstwins.org or the Center for Loss in Multiple Births for guidance.
Summary:
This article reflects the emotional journey of a mother who experienced the loss of one of her twins, navigating grief while celebrating the life of her surviving child. It emphasizes the complexities of carrying one living baby while mourning another, and the importance of community support for those who share similar experiences of loss.