My third child was a twin. It took me four and a half years to say that out loud. Most people don’t know this about me because the loss of my son’s sibling was so traumatic that I’ve kept it hidden away, like a forgotten toy in a dusty attic.
When I first discovered I was having twins, we dove headfirst into the preparations. We bought adorable matching outfits, twin-themed maternity shirts, and even a not-so-cool minivan. Our family was expanding from four to six, and my husband and I poured over twin parenting books with excitement, dreaming of our double blessing. Having suffered a previous loss before my son Leo, I thought this was life’s way of giving me a miracle.
But around the halfway mark of my pregnancy, an ultrasound that felt like an eternity turned into a scene I’d never forget. I felt tears streaming down my face, knowing that when the technician left, the doctor would return with heart-wrenching news. My heart sank as I realized I was about to relive a nightmare. My pleading thoughts echoed in my mind: “Not again! Please, not me…” I begged for hope, but the news was devastating: Baby A had passed away. No reason, no warning—just gone. Baby B was still thriving, though.
What I didn’t realize then was that my body faced a critical choice: recognize the healthy twin and carry on, or acknowledge the loss and risk losing both. I was paralyzed with shock and fear. I had to break the news to everyone who knew I was expecting twins, and the well-meaning comments didn’t help. “At least you have one healthy baby,” they’d say. Sure, I was grateful for Leo and the life we had, but one of my babies was gone, and I was still pregnant with him. It was a dark, heavy truth that twisted my heart.
Carrying one live baby and one who had already departed was a unique kind of torment. I forced myself to stay strong. I prayed that my lost baby would protect Leo through the remainder of my pregnancy. My focus was on keeping him safe for the next 20 weeks. I even hired someone to drive me around because my anxiety was through the roof.
When the day finally arrived to deliver Leo, it felt like a massive exhale after holding my breath for months. I was overjoyed to meet my sweet Baby B, but reality hit hard when they said, “Are you ready? We need to get the other baby.” I momentarily forgot that this moment would lead me to let go of Leo and face the reality of losing Baby A.
We named him Noah. Wrapped in his placenta, he was gone but not forgotten. With the guidance of my pastor, we decided to donate him to science, hoping it might help others in the future. A tough call, but we felt it was the right one.
I had avoided looking at the memory box containing Noah’s ultrasounds and condolence cards, but I braved it for this post. Inside were mementos that tugged at my heart. I still have the gold charm from the hospital, which I hope to turn into something special for Leo when he’s older.
Leo is a free spirit, and I can’t help but feel that he has a guardian angel in Noah. It’s a bittersweet comfort, knowing that while the conversation about his twin will be difficult, I trust I’ll know when it’s time to share.
The emptiness left by losing a child during pregnancy is profound. That’s why I welcomed my fourth unexpected joy, Max. He’s brought such happiness to our family, and even though there’s always a tinge of sadness when I think about what could have been, we continue to move forward. Leo has embraced his role as a big brother to Max, and I believe that if I hadn’t lost Noah, I wouldn’t have Max.
Many others have faced this heartache, and it’s often a silent struggle. I hope to create a community through this blog, offering support and understanding to those who feel alone in their grief. If you’ve experienced a loss of twins or multiples, please know that help is available. Check out resources like the Twinless Twins Organization or the Center for Loss in Multiple Births for support.
Summary
Losing a twin is a unique and profound experience that leaves a deep void in a parent’s heart. This journey of grief combines the joy of raising a living child while carrying the sorrow of a loss. The author shares her personal story, emphasizing the importance of community and connection for those who have faced similar experiences. With the arrival of a new child, the family continues to heal while holding onto the memories of their lost baby.