So Lets rewind back to Jan 2020. Beginning of the global pandemic, perfect timing for a pregnancy! NOT!

Me and the husband had been trying but not trying (if you know what i mean) for about 3 years. We decided that my implant may still be working after 10 years and maybe that's what was preventing the fertility train! Unbeknown to us we were already pregnant. Fast forward a few weeks, implant was removed, we found out we were pregnant and all the secret celebrations commenced. 

Fast forward a few more weeks and then that soul destroying moment happened and I realised I was miscarrying. They sent me for a reassurance scan and the staff were less than sympathetic, horrific in fact but they confirmed what had happened. And unfortunately for us the little bean, despite not being viable anymore was too cosy in there and didn't want to leave. It was traumatic as it wasn't a situation I had prepared for or even thought of and it tested our relationship. 

We discussed waiting 6 months before trying again but I knew if I was left to think about what had happened anymore then I'd never want to try again for fear of a repeat situation. So we agreed we would go back to trying but not trying.. you know not tracking fertility days on the 20 Apps I had installed on my phone...hmmm.

On this occasion, luck was on our side. I hadn't realised you would become extra fertile after the loss of a pregnancy and we fell pregnant almost instantly! Excitement set in again, however, this time it was accompanied by worry and fear. What if it happens again, what if it happens because I'm worrying too much, I couldn't mentally cope if it happened again... etc. Litterally worrying about worrying.

Fast forward a few weeks, and those horrific pains start again, I get those dreaded spots on my panty liner. Ring the doctors, lets send you in for another reassurance scan.. not sure I want to know to be honest but ok lets go.

First one in, lays on the bed, inserts the 'transvaginal' scanning device... and I'm just laying there with tears already rolling down my face, because the sonographer was silent for too long and I already knew the words that were about to come out of her mouth. I'd felt those pains before, id seen those spots. I didn't even know why id bothered putting myself through the heartache again. But there I was, too late now!

Sonographer: "Well I can tell you what the pains are from, there are TWO beautiful, healthy heart beats in there and your uterus is having to grow at double time."

Say what now... by this point my head jolted up, the tears stopped for a second and I was silent. I only wanted one child, I'd come prepared to leave with no child and yet somehow I'd managed to pick up and extra one from somewhere. There are no twins in the family and I had no idea where to start with processing the information I'd be given. 

I rang my husband (Covid prevented partners being there with you) in hysterical/shock/horror tears and of course he thought the untranslatable gibberish coming out of my mouth was due to another miscarriage. Whilst telling me everything was going to be fine and that we would get through this I screamed down the phone "IT WONT,ITS TWINS!?" His Response (in a broad Yorkshire farmers accent) "That's bloody brilliant!".

And so, our twin P journey began.

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