South Asian Twin Loss Journey

After a long and emotionally exhausting fertility journey, I was overjoyed to conceive twins. That joy quickly turned into heartbreak when at 22 weeks I experienced PPROM and lost my daughter, Rayna. Just a week later, at 23 weeks, I sadly lost my son, Hakeem, to stillbirth.

hand and footprints of twins on white background with text at the bottom.

What followed was every parent’s worst nightmare. I developed chorioamnionitis, became critically unwell, went into septic shock, and ended up in ICU fighting for my own life. In all of that, I was also separated from my husband due to isolation and COVID restrictions, unable to be with him, grieve, or begin to heal in the way I would have wanted. Heartbreakingly, I wasn’t well enough to attend either of their funerals.

Grief has been complex. In the South Asian community, there is often silence and stigma around baby loss, which can make it even more isolating, like there are parts of grief you’re expected to carry quietly or alone. Thankfully, I had the most supportive family, especially my mom and mother-in-law, who were my solid rock in those early days of bereavement.

2 heart candles for the wave of light live

Looking back over the past five years without them, it still feels surreal that this is my life. In the earliest days of grief, befriending others who had also lost babies became a lifeline; listening, sharing stories, and feeling understood by people who truly “got it” when I couldn’t find the words myself. My grief felt so immense then, and I wasn’t sure I would ever come through it.

But slowly, just taking it a day at a time, I began to find my footing again. There is no straight line with grief, and there still isn’t. There are days when something catches me off guard and it feels as raw as ever, and other moments where I feel more steady. I still feel them with me in everything, in the small signs, in everyday life, in the quiet ways they remain present.

They would have been five this year, and I often find myself wondering how they would have been; what their personalities might have been like and the little things they would have loved. That thought stays with me, and they are always present in the quiet moments of everyday life.