My third child was a twin. It’s taken me four long years to feel comfortable saying that. I rarely mention it, primarily because the loss of my baby’s twin was so devastating that I’ve kept the experience hidden away, alongside the hospital blanket and memory box given to me by the staff.
When I first learned I was expecting twins, we did what many parents do. We bought adorable matching outfits, fun twin-themed maternity shirts, and even a minivan that wasn’t our favorite. Our family was growing from four to six. I vividly remember my husband and I reading twin parenting books at night, filled with excitement at the prospect of two more little ones. I felt blessed, especially after having endured a significant loss before my child, Jack. I thought this was my second chance, a gift of not one but two new lives.
However, halfway through the pregnancy, an ultrasound took much longer than anticipated, and I felt the tears streaming down my face. Deep inside, I sensed the news wouldn’t be good. When the sonographer left the room, I braced myself for the worst news imaginable. My heart felt like it left my body, and I was enveloped in numbness. I had been here before, hearing devastating news—it felt all too familiar. I couldn’t comprehend how this could happen to me again. “Not again, please,” I whispered to myself, with my husband by my side. I pleaded with the doctors for any glimmer of hope. Sadly, I learned that Baby A had passed away. Just like that, for no apparent reason, my baby was gone. Yet Baby B was still thriving.
At that moment, I didn’t know if my body would recognize the surviving baby and carry on or if it would acknowledge the loss and expel both. I was overwhelmed. I wanted to retreat and cry. Everyone was aware I was having twins, and now I had to inform them of my changed reality—a heartbreaking truth I never wanted to face.
“At least you have one baby,” they would say. “You have other healthy children.” While these sentiments came from a good place, nothing could truly ease my pain. Yes, I was thankful for my two healthy kids and the one still with us, but I still had to carry and mourn the twin I had lost. The emotional weight was heavy, and I had no idea how fragile my situation would turn out to be.
Carrying one living baby and one who had passed is an indescribable experience. I tried to put on a brave face, praying that my lost baby would protect Jack throughout my pregnancy. I focused on keeping healthy for Jack, hoping to make it through the next 20 weeks. I even hired someone to drive me around due to the anxiety I felt.
When the time finally came to deliver Jack, it was a moment of immense relief. I was overjoyed to see my sweet Baby B, who I named Jack. But just as they were about to take him away for a routine procedure, they asked, “Are you ready?” I was caught off guard. “Ready for what?” I replied. They needed to get Baby A. In that moment, I realized I had to let go of Jack to allow them to retrieve his twin. We named him Ethan.
Ethan had wrapped himself in his placenta like a little blanket. We invited our pastor to perform a blessing for him, and with guidance from our pastor and doctors, we decided to donate him for scientific study. It was a tough choice, but we felt it was the right thing to do.
I had never opened the memory box for Ethan until now, as I faced the emotions I had kept buried. Inside were ultrasounds and heartfelt cards from the labor and delivery team expressing their condolences. I held onto a blanket and other mementos and thought about making a special charm from his gold keepsake for Jack when he is older.
Jack has such a joyful spirit; sometimes I just let him be free instead of trying to reign him in. I believe he has a guardian angel—his brother—which brings me comfort. Although I encourage him to pray and talk to the angels, explaining the reality of being a twin might be overwhelming for him right now. I know I will find the right moment to share this part of our story when he is old enough to understand.
Losing a child during pregnancy creates a void that deeply affects your soul. That’s part of the reason why I welcomed my fourth unexpected joy, Lucy. She has brought so much happiness and completeness to our family. While there will always be a tinge of sadness when I think of what could have been, we are moving forward together.
As parents, we must continue to navigate these unpredictable paths. Jack has embraced his role as an older brother to Lucy, and I truly believe that if I hadn’t lost Ethan, Lucy wouldn’t be here today.
I know many others have experienced similar heartache. It’s a topic that often remains unspoken. Through my blog, I hope to create a community where people can connect and feel less alone in their struggles. If you have also faced the loss of a twin or multiples, support is available. You can find valuable resources at twinlesstwins.org and the Center for Loss in Multiple Births, which provides insights and assistance.
Summary
The journey of navigating life after losing a twin is filled with overwhelming emotions and challenges. Despite the loss, Sarah Thompson shares her story of resilience and hope as she embraces her family’s journey, including the arrival of her fourth child. Acknowledging the pain of loss while celebrating the joy of life, Sarah invites others to connect and find support in their shared experiences.