UFO Info Week-End

Back at home I sat at the computer and tried to find words to tell the world that Theo had gone

Back at home I sat at the computer and tried to find words to tell the world that Theo had gone. It had been so unexpected; we knew there was a problem with the twins, but we had never really considered the idea that they might not make it. Denial, I suppose, and probably not a bad thing either, but it all added to the sense of bewilderment. Felix and Theo had been beset by chest infections and various bugs since day one but, seven months after their birth, both boys picked up a particularly vicious virus and Theo, always the weaker of the two, was finally beaten. Separately they were charming; together they were completely irresistible.

They slept together in one big hospital cot, snuggled up and holding hands and I was glad that they had each other for the times when I couldn’t be with them. He had an air of serenity about him that everyone noticed and, while Felix liked to be in the thick of the action, Theo was happy to watch from the sidelines. The babies themselves were gorgeous, though, and, despite my misgivings at the start of the pregnancy, I was utterly won over by their charm. Their physical similarity was startling – even I had difficulty telling them apart on occasions – but their personalities could not have been more different. Felix, the younger by two minutes, was a feisty little thing and incredibly sociable. He was also strong-willed, and you could see in his eyes that he was a fighter.

Theo, on the other hand, was an altogether more peaceful soul. After one particularly rough patch, the group secretly clubbed together and bought me a rocking-chair “to rock the babies in” when I finally brought them home I was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. Each day I would awake to find another batch of e-mails offering encouragement, reassurance and love; and each day I drew enormous strength from them. Around the world, thousands of strangers shared our triumphs, struggled with our setbacks, and did what friends do – they were there for us. The boys were ferried between University College Hospital (where they had been born) and Great Ormond Street, where they underwent a bewildering array of tests and treatments (including having feeding tubes inserted when it became apparent they were unable to swallow). I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, coping with one day at a time, and at night I would sit at the computer and pour out my frustration and fear to the mothers who, despite the fact that I had never met them, felt by now like dear and trusted friends. To call the next few months a roller-coaster in no way does justice to the nausea-inducing highs and lows of the ride.