We needed to sew together babygros to fit our babies
Amelia were born locked in an embrace. I only had the quickest of glimpses before they were rushed to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). But it was enough to feel a rush of joy and love. Our miracles had made it this far.
Parenting conjoined twins was a steep learning curve. Nothing prepares you for the speed you’ll need to change nappies, or the imagination required to sew together babygros so they fit your unique children.
We counted down the days to their February operation, until disaster struck. First the girls caught pneumonia, then the pandemic began. We had to wait until August 2020 – after their first birthday – before they could have the procedure.
In those months there was joy in watching the girls grow, and fear at what would happen when they were separated. They’d been together for over a year, what would the psychological impact of separation be? Would their bodies function as we hoped?
Waiting in the hospital car park during their 12-hour operation, devouring every pager update we received from the operating team, was nerve-racking and surreal. But walking into their recovery room and seeing them apart was incredible.
I had to wait two weeks to be able to hold them individually. When I did, my heart almost burst with joy. It was the most joyous feeling. ‘Mummy loves you so much,’ I whispered to them both.
Their recovery was amazing. Just one month after the operation, they were home. We thought they might want to keep close to each other, but that didn’t happen. Sarabeth and Amelia love one other but absolutely want their space. Each girl is just out in the world, doing her own thing. It’s fantastic.
Now I’m 33 and to see them today, watching cartoons and chasing Kennedy, you wouldn’t know they’d ever been conjoined.
But we will never forget the path that brought us here. Sarabeth and Amelia have scars from the operation, but they prove just how strong and independent my twins are.
I want them both to wear those marks with pride.