'Locked-in' hubby but look what we did
‘LOCKED IN’ HUBBY
Chatting with my sister-in-law one day, she said, ‘You should get on Facebook, it’s a great way to meet people.’
Thirty-eight and single, I wasn’t that bothered about meeting someone – my time was filled hanging out with my son, Zak, then 16.
But, curious, I set up an account and tried out a feature which matched you with other people – a bit like a dating app.
Flicking through, I came across a man called Nick with a red mohawk and I instantly fancied the pants off him. After matching, he sent me a message with a link to a video.
Watch this and tell me what you think, he wrote.
It started with a scene of Nick at the gym. I wondered what he was training for, but as the video continued, I discovered more.
Paralysed, Nicola’s hubby could only blink, then their dream of having a family came true
Nick had been playing rugby, aged 27, when he passed out on the pitch.
He suffered six strokes and a huge brain-stem stroke, before being diagnosed with locked-in syndrome. It meant his brain was perfectly functioning, but his body was completely unresponsive.
All he could move was his eyes. But, determined, Nick had started going to the gym, getting a trainer to put him on different machines to try and regain some movement.
After years of repetitive exercises, he re-taught some of his muscle groups. It meant he could hold his neck up properly and have some movement in his arms.
Using his body strength to push heavy weights, he even became the first bodybuilder with locked-in syndrome! ‘Incredible,’ I breathed. I showed Zak the video, before driving to my mum Sue’s and getting her to watch it too.
That night, I replied to Nick and soon messages were flying back and forth.
We had so much in common, like a love of the same music and movies.
And on top of that, he was so handsome!
The only problem was, Nick lived in New Zealand, while I was in the UK.
From then on, Nick and I spoke every day. I’d stay up until 2am sending him messages, then wake up again at 6am to message before work.
After two weeks chatting, Nick typed, Will you be my girlfriend?
Yes! I replied.
His disability was never a problem for me, and we made plans for me and Zak to visit him a few weeks later.
Nick couldn’t speak, so he told me he communicated via a plastic board containing the alphabet. Then he would look directly at the letters to spell out a word. I started practising with one so I’d know how it worked.
Nick’s mum, Joss, greeted us at the airport then she took us to
Nick’s.
The first thing I spotted was his trademark red mohawk and cheeky grin.
‘Hi,’ I smiled, hugging him. Over the next two weeks, we had an amazing time visiting all the tourist spots.
We’d already said we loved each other over messages, but when he spelled it out on the board, it felt incredible.
I wanted to move to NZ, but I wanted to run it past Zak first.
‘Mum, he’s amazing, you have to. I’ll be moving to uni soon anyway,’ he said.
So I started making the arrangements when I got home, and eight months later, I went to live with Nick, then 37.
Madly in love, we got engaged the next year.
Making wedding arrangements, I asked Nick if he was happy.
‘My only regret is I’m not a dad,’ he spelled out on the board. ‘I can’t now I’m disabled.’
But I knew he could. ‘You’d be an amazing dad,’ I said.
So, we started trying after the wedding.
Sadly,
I suffered a series of miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies, and a specialist said it was down to my age and eggs.
She recommended an egg donor, but the waiting list in NZ was so long, as it’s illegal to pay for eggs.
So we went to America for IVF. After our sixth failure, Nick didn’t think he could go through the heartache again.
Then last September, I spotted cheap flights.
‘Let’s try once more,’ I said. This time, the clinic put three embryos inside me to give us the best chance.
A few days later, they took my bloods and then a nurse phoned with the results. ‘You’re pregnant!’ she cried. Back in NZ, we went for a scan. And looking at the screen, my heart soared. There were three babies! ‘You’re having triplets!’ the sonographer confirmed.
More scans revealed we were expecting two girls and a boy. The happiness on Nick’s face was priceless.
On March 26, at 32 weeks, the triplets were delivered by caesarean. We named them Ruby-Soo, Loki and Dakota.
So small, the triplets had to go into incubators, and due to COVID-19 restrictions, Nick had to leave the hospital. Finally, after four long weeks, I took the triplets home.
‘I’ve never been happier,’ Nick spelled out, beaming.
I was worried having triplets would be hard, but now they’re 17 weeks, and we’re in a routine, they are a dream.
Current travel restrictions mean Zak and my mum haven’t been able to visit yet, but we’re counting down the days until they’re able to fly.
While Nick can’t help out with the practical things, he’s there for me in other ways.
He’ll have the babies on his lap while I feed them.
And I’m convinced he’s a baby whisperer!
Any time I put one of the triplets on his lap, they instantly stop crying.
Since I’ve met Nick, life has been a huge adventure and I wouldn’t change a thing. The triplets are perfect. It honestly feels like we’ve won the lottery.