The last few days I was visited by a dear friend with her baby. I remember that while I was pregnant with my twin girls she must have been pregnant but she didn’t tell me until much later. I asked her why she didn’t tell me then. She said she didn’t want to upset me while there was so much going on for me. I remember I was upset then as I would have still wanted to know that my dear friend was experiencing being pregnant…
These past few days I spoke to her about Jealousy and Envy. Two of those emotions that we as a society do not appreciate or accept, whether it is in ourselves or others. It’s usually felt silently or hidden as it’s ‘not good’, ‘not nice’, ‘not something you should feel’. Nevertheless many (or dare I say EVERYONE?) has experienced it some time. I told my friend that I feel jealous when I see parents with twins. I know in myself that it’s me meeting every memory, every dream and hope I had for my twins: the twin pram, the similar look, the conversation between the two, people not being able to tell who is who… I did want that. I had been given this huge gift of caring identical twins, a gift that cannot be artificially made, something that ‘just’ happens, not even having anything to do with twins running in the family or not.
I do feel jealous. I feel a sting in my heart for what I cannot experience, for what I am left to imagine.
I hear: ‘At least you’ve got one’ in my own head. I’m thinking of those who had miscarriages, stillbirth or lost both twins. What do I have to complain about!? Sadly, this sentence in my head does not mend the pain of having held my daughter in my arms when she took her last breath. Nothing does.
I have heard other grieving mothers say: I do not feel jealous. Can I really be true? I can’t answer this question but due to my experience I find it hard to imagine.
My friend said: Every time I see twins I think of you.
I know other of my friends do too. I’m the mother with one twin alive.
We sold our twin pram after months of having it standing in our storage space. I used it only a few times and then my dad bought me a single pram as he felt pity with me having to lift the heavy pram in and out of the car all the time being reminded of never being used by the two girls. We sold our second capsule…
I’m left with double stuffed toys, double clothes, double this, double that… meeting every memory, hope and dream.