I recorded the deaths of my children while sitting next to joyful young mothers

No parent should outlive their child.

But me? I've outlived my two children and this is the worst heartbreak I've ever experienced.

When I first found out that I was carrying twins, to put it mildly, I was shocked.

I had known I was pregnant for 14 weeks – the home test I took and the extreme sickness I experienced told me that – but I never expected the sonographer to announce that I was carrying two babies.

-There's another one! they said happily and I couldn't quite believe it.

I remember being excited at the prospect of raising twins and feeling confident that this pregnancy would go well.

When I look back now, I was very naive thinking about what was to come…

I didn't know then that a multiple pregnancy carries a higher risk compared to a single pregnancy.

I wasn't aware of any complications that could result from multiple pregnancies or the increased likelihood of premature birth – about 6 out of 10 twins are born before 37 weeks.

I also didn't know that twins have almost three times the risk of stillbirth and over 4.5 times the risk of stillbirth. in neonatal death than a singleton pregnancy.

I've never known such a risk. It wasn't until they were born and the consultant in charge of their care seemed very cautious and assured them everything would be fine.

But then again, everything looked fine for more than half of my pregnancy.

During my 20-week ultrasound, I was told the babies were feeling fine. We also found out that we were expecting twins.

We started buying things for both of them – cribs, car seats, and lots of matching clothes – and started organizing their room. We went with Winnie the Pooh theme and I bought them Tiger toys and of course struggled with names.

On September 11, we ordered the stroller and everything seemed to fall into place.

However, that evening I woke up with minor bleeding. I was exactly 26 weeks pregnant, and although I knew bleeding during pregnancy was quite common, I was a little worried.

My husband called the hospital and they said they would send an ambulance, but since we only live five minutes away, we went.

When we got to the hospital, the doctors checked the twins' heartbeats and then gave me steroids to help their lungs mature. They also started calling other hospitals to find out where the two incubators were, just in case.

I don't remember being afraid or panicking. Just numb – as if all this wasn't really happening, telling yourself that everything would be fine.

Almost immediately we were told we would be sent to another hospital. We were two hours away from departure, but the closest we got was with two available incubators.

Before we could say anything, I was taken into the ambulance with my husband right behind us. Maybe it was denial, but I still thought it was preventive, I really didn't think I would ever give birth.

However, during the trip I started having contractions, although I wasn't really sure at the time if they were contractions.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was told the twins would be viable at 24 weeks. No one mentioned that there was also a risk that they could die.

The next morning, when a heart rate check showed that one of the twins was starting to drop, I was rushed into labor.

The twin was born at 10:30 a.m. and the second twin was born at 10:44 a.m. But before I could even see them, let alone hold them, they were both taken to the NICU.

It was two hours before I could see them for the first time. As I was wheeled into the NICU, I remember silently pleading, “Please weigh more than 2 pounds.” Please.' I thought the weight would give them a better chance of survival.

Unfortunately, they were both just below, and yet they were excellent.

They were beautiful, with dark hair and perfectly shaped faces. I felt the immediate surge of love you read about and I was proud that they were my children.

All we could do now was hope they survived.

The main problem with being so premature meant that their veins were narrow, making it difficult to penetrate the wrinkles. Doctors advised us to take the medicine one day at a time.

I remember that when we were asked to name them, I felt surprised – I didn't know if I could give them names since there was a risk that they might not survive. However, thanks to the guidance of health care workers, we managed to do it.

We ended up naming them Charlie and Joshua, respectively.

The next few days were difficult though. NICU it's very overwhelming the place to be: there are lots of wires, alarms and monitors, and the staff is always doing something.

We were lucky in the sense that we were able to stay in their room the whole time. We were able to put our hands through the little holes in the incubator and touch them both, and we also got involved in changing their diapers, giving them my breast milk, and giving them oral care.

However, we couldn't hold them from the beginning because they were too weak.

The fact that they were there and wanted them to live every day was so important.

Unfortunately, things never seemed to work out for them.

Charlie started showing signs of infection quite early on, which I didn't want to hear – I knew it would be difficult for them to survive the infection. Meanwhile, Joshua had several blood transfusions and heard a heart murmur.

Both were also exposed to UV rays, which indicated jaundice, and both had episodes of low blood sugar.

I slowly began to realize this, quite quickly, in a devastating way, I may not take any of my children home.

Ultimately, Charlie lived only a week. We were told he wouldn't survive and he died in my arms – while I held him for the first time – on September 19.

Joshua lived another six days, 13 in all. I had to hold him while he lived, but eventually he died too.

We were then offered the opportunity to make memories with them, first with Charlie and then with Joshua, so we printed out their hand and footprints, and took as many photos as we could in addition to the ones we were given while they were alive.

Losing them both was inexplicably terrible.

However, having to register both their births and deaths in the registry office surrounded by other people with bouncing children was heartbreaking. It was so unfair.

As soon as we returned home, in early October, we started organizing the funeral so that family and friends could attend. This was what we both wanted – a chance to say our final goodbyes – but knowing I would never see them again once they were buried was the worst moment for me.

Life was normal for everyone, but it would never be normal for me.

We left their room as it had been for ages because it was too difficult to take it apart and as much as I loved going in there, it was hard to see all the stuff we had bought for them.

The only thing that saved me was the peer support we received from other families who had experienced the loss of twins. I've talked to moms who also lost both twins, and it was kind of comforting to know that we weren't alone in this journey.

Three months later, I was pregnant with our next child, Jess. It was such a rocky pregnancy, especially until the 26th week, but luckily she was born healthy a week before Charlie and Joshua's first birthday.

I was very happy to have Jess, very happy that she was born alive, but I was still mourning the twins.

But I always remember our boys and that's why I wanted to do something to help other people survive loss like I did.

Shortly after Jess was born, I began volunteering as a friend to support families experiencing child loss. I did this for 14 years, working as a substitute teacher, raising Jess and our second child, Samuel, and then running a multiple birth bereavement service.

However, I recently co-founded a new charity, Footprints Baby Loss, which provides support for families like mine who have experienced the death of a twin, triplet or more. I started this with my friend Suzie, who I met when I was her friend, almost 12 years ago.

While we both wish child losses were less frequent, unfortunately we see many families experience this pain and heartache. Together with our volunteers, we provide mutual support and a safe place where we can talk about our deceased children. I think many of our families enjoy talking about their loss with people who truly understand.

Because they are not alone. We've been there and we'll do everything we can to help.

Charlie and Joshua would now be 25 years old, and although sometimes it's still hard for me to think about all the things I missed with them, I like to think I did a lot of good in their memory.

I will always be a mother of twins and I'm proud of it, I just wish I could have changed the outcome.

Do you have a story you'd like to share? Contact jess.austin@metro.co.uk.

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