Being a twin and grieving for my twin daughter

Being a twin is very special to me and I’ve always felt incredibly lucky to have that indescribable bond with my sister April. Turning 40 has given me the chance to reflect on what it’s like to be a twin myself and how this impacts my grief for one of my twins Evie.

Falling pregnant with identical twins, then finding out they were girls felt like a dream come true. Somehow, like history repeating, that it was ‘meant to be’ and nobody could have been happier. Not only did I get to be a twin I was going to be a twin mum too.

Losing Evie almost 6 months into my pregnancy brought the most intense grief. It’s something I’ve learned to accept and live with but this grief is not just for the daughter I never get to love and care for, but also for the experience of being a twin mum. There’s also the sadness for my survivor Rose who is navigating life without her sister; that she never got to ‘be a twin’ like me.

I feel guilty that I get to live this life with my sister by my side, yet Rose never got to experience what it’s like to have that twin connection, to share her life with Evie and for them to grow together. While I tell myself she can’t miss what she never had, there are moments and days when I feel sad that Rose and Evie never got to experience what April and I have.

My grief also makes me more grateful for my twin, which feels very selfish. Grief is never straightforward or easy, it’s complex and tangled, multi-dimensional and never stops.

My ‘Insider knowledge’ on twins also makes me question what Evie would be like in a very deep way. I understand this is something many bereaved parents do. But, as I know firsthand, twins can look so alike yet be so different. I look at Rose and know just how Evie would look but it makes me wonder just what she’d be like, what she’d enjoy, her favourite foods, just everything. Would they be mirror twins like April and I? So many questions I’ll never get the answers to.

Losing Evie and the support I got inspired me to use my experience to help others. Eventually, once the rawness of my grief subsided I became a volunteer and befriender for several Babyloss charities which helped me to support other families who had similar experiences, which made me feel less alone. I then decided to train to become a counsellor and 11 years on I am now running my own private practice (see www.lucynunncounselling.co.uk) which allows me to make a difference not just through supporting people through grief but guiding them through whatever life challenges they face. I feel I am doing something positive in Evie’s memory.