TWIN MOM AT 24: LANDING IN THE DELIVERY ROOM

People often say, “Double the fun, double the love.” But they rarely mention the double exhaustion, double the hair fall, and double the self-doubt.

I celebrated my 24th birthday eight months into pregnancy—carrying not one, but two little lives. I was quite literally a triple-sized version of myself, navigating discomfort, swollen feet, sleepless nights, and an excitement I couldn’t put into words. The first three months weren’t easy. I was advised to take complete bed rest because Twin A was lying too low due to a low-lying placenta. Every step hurt. Turning over in bed hurt. Even walking to the washroom filled me with fear because every discharge made me wonder if something was wrong.

“Don’t worry. Just rest,” my doctor would reassure me. So I did.

Months four, five, and six were kind. I finally breathed a little easier and, to be honest, thoroughly enjoyed eating without counting calories. Pregnancy had granted me a guilt-free appetite, and I happily embraced it. Then came the seventh month. I was diagnosed with Intrahepatic Cholestasis of Pregnancy (ICP)—a liver condition in pregnancy where the normal flow of bile slows down, causing relentless itching all over the body. “Itching” sounds harmless until you’ve lived it. Mine was unbearable. Ice packs became my constant companions. Lotions and cooling powders offered temporary relief. On my worst days, I scratched my skin with the back of a comb—even though I knew I shouldn’t. I was desperate for just a few moments without the burning sensation. Those little coping mechanisms helped me survive the final weeks of pregnancy. By the middle of my eighth month, I had reached my limit. I walked into my doctor’s clinic and pleaded, “Please… take them out. I beg you.” That was my mental state. She smiled gently, refused, and encouraged me to hold on just a little longer. A couple of weeks later, I returned, exhausted in every possible way. This time, she gave me a date.

It was finally happening. We packed the hospital bag. Tiny clothes for the twins. My own clothes. Medicines. Baby blankets. Every item carefully ticked off from Google’s “Hospital Essentials for New Moms” checklist. Behind my brave smile was a terrified woman. The morning of my C-section, my heart raced. Fear had taken over every thought as I was wheeled into the operating room. I lay on the table while the spinal anaesthesia slowly numbed the lower half of my body. People often ask if it hurt. Honestly… it didn’t. Maybe my doctor had blessed hands. Maybe my mind had become stronger than my body. Maybe it was both. Then…I heard my first baby cry. The tears I had been holding back through months of fear escaped instantly. Barely a minute later came another tiny cry. My second baby.

“My baby… my baby… my baby…” I don’t know how many times I whispered those words. One by one, they brought each baby close enough for me to see. I could only tilt my head slightly, but that was enough. I cried. Happy tears. Scared tears. Overwhelmed tears. “I’m a mother”. The words hadn’t even fully sunk in, yet my heart already knew. Even after the loud sobs stopped, silent tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I secretly wiped them away, hoping no one would notice.

Then they finally placed my babies in my arms. How do you describe that feeling?

You don’t.

No amount of literature can truly capture the first moment you hold the tiny humans who have been growing beneath your heartbeat for months. Even today, writing about it brings tears to my eyes. I felt fortunate. I felt content. I felt deeply happy. At the very same time, I felt nervous, petrified, and frightened.

Such is the heart of a mother—filled with immeasurable joy, yet forever carrying a quiet fear. Motherhood didn’t begin when I held my twins. It began the moment my heart learned that love and fear could exist together. To conclude, it was tough. It still is tough. But it was pure joy. It still is pure joy. As Elizabeth Stone beautifully wrote, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” And as I held my twins for the very first time, I finally understood exactly what she meant.