What a difference a year makes!

It was touch and go, but look at them now!

Iwas in a little bubble, full of excitement. Pregnant with twins, I could hardly contain myself.

‘I can’t wait for them to arrive,’ I told my then partner Darren, 24.

Thoughts of matching outfits, prams and cute little booties filled my mind.

‘We’ve got months yet,’ Darren chuckled. He was right. It was still early days, and I’d a lot to sort out – like maternity leave from my job as a dental nurse…

At 22 weeks and six days, I started filling out my form at home. But, suddenly, I felt like I’d wet myself.

Only I hadn’t – my waters had broken. ‘Darren!’ I yelled. I was full of panic as he rushed me straight to Darent Valley Hospital.

‘You’re in labour,’ a midwife confirmed, examining me. ‘But it’s way too early,’ I cried. I was terrified my babies wouldn’t survive. And staff at the hospital agreed.

‘I’m very sorry,’ a nurse said. ‘They won’t make it.’

The babies were just too small and weak. If they arrived now, there was nothing doctors could do to help them. I was in bits, utterly inconsolable.

But hours passed... And, as the clock struck midnight, I was given a glimmer of hope.

By the skin of my teeth, I’d made it to 23 weeks – a week shy of the legal abortion limit. Doctors agreed that, if the babies arrived now, they’d try their best to save them. But the odds were still stacked against them.

Because the hospital didn’t have the facilities to care for such premature babies, I was taken to Royal Sussex County Hospital.

That same day, 11 November last year, Dolly arrived,

I was told my babies were too small and weak to survive

weighing a tiny 1lb 1oz.

Before I even saw her, she was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

Holding back tears, I got ready to deliver Dolly’s twin. But my contractions stopped…

‘You’re only 3cm dilated,’ a midwife confirmed.

Meanwhile, nurses took pictures of Dolly on my phone, for me to look at.

She was so tiny and pink. And she was covered in plastic sheeting to keep her warm.

‘She looks like ET,’ I cried to Darren. It was so distressing. But a whole five days later, the contractions came thick and fast again, and baby Albert arrived, just 1lb 6oz.

When I finally got to see my two babies together, they looked so fragile it broke my heart.

Their skin was so thin, I could see through it.

‘Will they be OK?’ I begged the doctors.

But no-one could reassure me. We just had to take each day at a time. It was touch and go. At 6 weeks, Dolly needed surgery to repair a hole in her heart, and poor Albert had trouble breathing and needed to be kept on oxygen.

The next few months were torture. But I willed my babies to get stronger. And very, very slowly, they did.

First, in January, they were well enough to be transferred back to Darent Valley Hospital.

Then, in March, doctors were happy with Albert’s progress, and he was allowed home.

Dolly followed him a few weeks on. It felt surreal to have them both my babies home.

For ages, I walked around on eggshells, just waiting for one of them to take a turn for the worse.

But my tough little tots went from strength to strength.

They’re nearly a year old now – and it’s crazy to think they’ll celebrate their birthdays five days apart!

Doctors have told me it’s extremely rare for one baby to be born so far apart from the other. But it just makes my little angels even more special!

They’re still very tiny for their age, and wear clothes meant for a 3-month-old.

But Albert and Dolly are my two tough little cookies.

I still have to pinch myself to believe they’re actually here.

Doctors were convinced that they wouldn’t make it. But they have proved everyone wrong.

There really is no stopping my little warriors.

It’s crazy that their birthdays are five days apart!