My story, by Robyn Ford

My boys were conceived via IVF, our first attempt just 3 days after our wedding.  I was so scared getting to 12 days, part of me didn't want to wish anything or get my hopes up as we miscarried at 9 weeks 5 years previous. Part from my parents, we didn't tell anyone.  We had a few bleeds in the first 15 weeks, each time, I felt my dreams shatter but each scan showed too little heartbeats.

From 15 weeks onwards, we started to get excited, we told all the family and friends, everyone was getting excited.  From my 6 weeks scan, I knew I was having boys, just felt like they were boys.  We had most things planned out for their room but decided not to buy anything until we got to 24 weeks, just in case, I wasn't worried about having them that early something just made us think that, something that looking back, I am so glad we did think that.

When I was nearly 20weeks, we went for trip to Mothercare and found our pushchair, it was on sale as well so we thought it was a sign that we should buy it so we did and it would be delivered in 12 weeks time.  This was on the Monday.  On the Wednesday at 20 weeks, I was sitting at home when I heard a pop and felt wet, my first thought was Ii was bleeding, after checking, it was clear fluid, my waters.  I woke my husband up and after speaking to the hospital, we made our way up there.  My parents were on holiday so I phoned my sister to ask her to meet us up there.  When we arrived at the hospital, they confirmed it was my waters that had gone and send me for a scan.

The scan showed twin 1 had no waters left and twin 2's were leaking.  They gave us the worse news there and then, our babies wouldn't survive and I would miscarry shortly.  I was put on bed rest and given antibiotics to stop infection and they explained that because i was under 24 weeks they were looking after me, not the babies, they were not viable in their eyes.  I had to make the heart breaking phone call to my parents to explain what was going on, they started to look at flights to get them home.  The next few days, nothing happened, we were just waiting.  My sister and husband sat by my side every minute of each day, talking, crying and just going through the motions.  My parents managed to arrive back on Monday morning, to say I was relieved was an understatement.

On that day, I felt like I had trapped wind but I didn't want to make a fuss and when visiting time was over, (was put on the antenatal ward) I said goodbye to my husband and parents.  About 2 hours later, I went to the toilet and managed to go for a number 2, but then i went back again as i felt like I needed to go again, but nothing.  I went to wipe and felt something, pressed the alarm and it all kicked up.  I was rushed round to the labour ward when I was scanned by a doctor who told me that twin 1's cord had prolapsed, the baby was on its way.  I was in a room, all on my own waiting for my hubby and family to arrive. I hated seeing their faces, seeing them so upset, they knew what was coming and I felt like i had let them down.  I was given some drugs which seem to knock me out, everyone stayed in my room and just waiting.

I woke up and felt the urge to push. I was wheeled round to a private room where I had the most amazing midwife and with my hubby and mum either side holding my hand. Baby Connor Stuart was born... born breathing and put straight on my chest. I remember being scared, wondering what he would look like, would he look like a baby, and he did, he was a perfectly formed tiny baby.  My sister and dad came in and we all had cuddles and he was blessed by the hospital chaplain, he was surrounded by all of us when he took his last breathe at just 2 and a half hours old.  We were told twin 2 would follow shortly.

So again, we played the waiting game.  We had Connor in our room for 36 hours before we said our goodbyes, time spent just the 3 of us, cuddling him, talking to him and me telling him how sorry I was that I had failed him.

The waiting game seemed to go on, each day the doctors telling us there was no chance but somehow we made it to 23+5 and was given steroids.

When I hit 24 weeks i started to feel 'off' cant really explain it, bloods were taken and my infection level (crp) was rising and so was my temp.  They decided to transfer me to a level 3 hospital just in case.  They assured me that I wasn't in labour, there were just be careful.  We got to the hospital (closely followed by my lot) and within 10 minutes of being there, they said twin 2 had to come out because I was very poorly.  They told us that baby had a 2 % chance, things were not looking but but if baby showed signs of life, they would help.  They broke the remains of my waters (didn't want to give me a c section because of the high risk to both me and baby with my infection) and within 2 hours, baby Harry Anthony was born.  I remember hearing a baby cry and asking my mum was that my baby? she laughed and said who else would it be!  Harry weighed in at 1lb 5oz and was taken straight to the NICU.

He was on the vent when I saw him 3 hours later, he wasn't tiny to us because he was bigger then Connor but I remember his skin being worse, he was bright red, Connor had normal coloured skin.  Harry was taken off the vent at 6hours old and put on Vapatherm.

We were told the first 24 hours were critical, Harry sailed through them.  I got my first cuddle when he was about 19 hours old, best and worse time for me, best because he was here but worse, because I would never hold both my boys together.  Harry carried on doing well, until he was a week old, he started struggling on his vapatherm and was de-satting and bradying all over the place, then they started to pull up green muck through his feeding tube. He was taken off milk but that didn't help, he needed more help with his breathing so was put on Cpap but a few hours later, he went downhill and the doctor told us he needed to be put on the ventilator.  My heart broke there and then again as I started mentally preparing two funerals.  The results came back and Harry has a chest infection, Ecoli and staph.  I couldn't cuddle him when he was on the vent, I couldn't even change his nappy, I was too scared.  Slowly he got better and 3 days later, took him off the vent and back on vapatherm (tried cpap but he was having none of it)  He went back on feeds and was doing well, they noticed he had some hernia's but said that it was fairly common, he struggled ongoing for a poo bless him so often needed a helping hand.

We were waiting for him to hit a kilo so he could be transferred back to our local hospital (St Peters was a 3 hours journey for me as i didn't drive)

At 5 weeks, even though he was no where near the kilo, they were happy with him and he was transferred back to east surrey.  Worse thing in our journey.

This hospital was awful, the first thing I was asked was where was twin 1! They didn't seem to care.  I told them that harry was off but they didn't listen and left it until he was bad and when he needed blood transfusions, he would have to wait over 16 hours.

Whilst Harry carried on getting stronger with his oxygen, I struggled. I couldn't cope with the new hospital, Connor was still there in the morgue and it dawned on me, Harry has his dad and my family, Connor has no one, he needed him mummy. I'm not proud but I made a mistake at this point but was found by a member on cleaning staff who got me inside so I could be seen.  I was transferred to our local mental health hospital where i was placed on a 24 hours watch for my sake.  I managed 4 hours before I had to get out to see Harry.  I was allowed to sit by Harry but with a member of the team with me at all time, I felt like I had let both my boys down.

Harry slowly started putting on weight and went in a hot cot. Then he was started on formula (I was unable to express any more due to medication) and the weight started packing on,  Then he was in a normal cot and finally got to have a bath at 11 week old.  He needed it, his feet stunk!

We had a discharge meeting when we found out Harry was going home on oxygen but his doctor wanted me to hold Connor's funeral before Harry came home.

Harry did have a brain bleed just after birth but it cleared up, he had a PDA which cleared up on his own and ROP which cleared up.

On the 30th July 2011, we held Connor's funeral whilst a lovely nurse who I trusted and knew from St Peter's, came in on her day off to sit with Harry and give him cuddles.  We started in that weekend and then on the Monday, my little 4lber came home.

He was on oxygen until he was 9 months old.  He has surgery on his hernia's at 10 months.

Harry is now 18 months old actual, he is walking around and a true miracle and my blessing, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here. 

He has some small issues, his lungs are bad from CLD and BPD and seems to have bronchitis every few weeks but he is perfect.  He is weighing in a massive 16lb.

Without a doubt, if it wasn't for my hubby, my mum, dad and sister, I don't know how we could have coped with everything, they were fantastic.  Our friends, not so much, they didn't seem to know what to say so it was easier to say nothing.

The whole experience changed me.  I am no longer care free. I'm very angry but very lucky, I have two gorgeous babies, me and harry go and visit his brother every single day, harry, every morning, goes to his brother's photo and kisses it.