The Deepest Love

Victoria Robinson, 25, from Wolverhampton, knows there’s no bond stronger than the bond between twins...

Laea Marshall And Harriet Rose - Gale

Lying on my back, the sonographer rubbed jelly over my tummy.

It was November last year, and finding out that I was expecting had come as a big surprise.

Finishing up my law degree and looking after my four-year old girl, Storm, I already had my hands full.

But lately, I’d been feeling nauseous during lectures, and I had a gut feeling.

And when a pregnancy test confirmed it, I was over the moon.

Now, at my nine-week scan, I was eager to find out if everything was OK.

Just then, the sonographer paused, looking concerned.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked, becoming worried.

‘Nothing at all,’ she smiled, after examining the monitor more closely.

‘How do you feel about having twins?’

‘Twins?!’ I gasped. ‘Yes, there’s two babies in there,’ she smiled. I couldn’t believe it. But, sure enough, when I looked, there were two little blobs, floating around together on the screen.

Two babies would be a handful, to say the least, but the more I thought about it, the more excited I was.

The father wasn’t in the picture, but I knew I’d have the support of my parents, Dolsie, 52, and Hugo, 54.

I was given a due date of 10 June, and I couldn’t wait.

‘These two will be the best of friends,’ I smiled to Mum.

Then, on 14 February, I woke up with severe back pain.

I was only 23 weeks along, so I didn’t think that it could be the babies.

But as time went on, the pain became more unbearable.

‘We need to get you to the hospital,’ Mum said, calling an ambulance.

Rushed to New Cross Hospital in Wolverhampton, doctors there confirmed that I was in labour.

‘But I’m only 23 weeks along!’ I cried.

‘It’s too early!’ ‘If we don’t get these babies out now, all three of you could die,’ the doctor warned me.

Mum came with me into the delivery room, and just a few minutes later, I’d given birth to two tiny girls.

Winter was born at 9.17am, weighing 1lb 5oz.

Her sister Ocean came along at 9.46am, weighing 1lb 2oz.

‘Wait, where are you taking them?’ I cried, as a nurse whisked them away.

‘Doctors need to get them breathing,’ Mum said.

A few hours later, I was wheeled down to the NICU to meet my daughters.

Lying together in an incubator, they were hooked up to ventilators and all kinds of tubes and wires.

They’d been wrapped up in plastic bags to keep them warm, and as I watched their tiny chests inflate and deflate from the breathing machines, I burst into tears.