Last night I had a dream, I was at an event and surrounded by people, on the next table was a couple with their new baby and I felt alone, with a feeling of missing my twins so much it hurt. I woke at 5am, wide awake, willing my twins to wake so I could hold them again.
My twins are almost 14 months old and I can count the number of times I have been without them since their birth on my hands. The first time was involuntary, I suffered a haemorrhage within 3 hours of their birth, I lost 10 pints of blood and ended up in the critical care unit. Waking in the evening I had missed the majority of the first day of their life and I had missed my parents meeting my little ones. When I look back at photos and video of their first day I feel sad to have missed those moments, moments I will never get back.
We have been parted rarely since except for a few haircuts and some girl time. People often urge me to spend more time without my babies, as if I am doing myself a disservice, only by freeing myself from my children can I really be myself. But the time I spend without them I don’t feel like I am led to believe, myself again, but a shadow of myself, like two parts of me are missing. My whole adult life I felt something was missing, now I have found them and while we spend time apart I am missing more precious moments.
While my twins are young they rely on me to be there, as they grow they will seek time away from me to go on adventures and spend quality time with their friends and our wider family. They will do this until the day that they find someone they feel can offer them all they need and they will make a home for themselves and start making their own precious moments. Until then I will be there as much as I can… just in case I am needed.