Watching my 18-month-old daughter, Kiki, chattering away to her doll, I felt a familiar pang.
I was seriously clucky!
Also, I didn’t want Kiki to play alone anymore.
‘I think we should try for another baby,’ I said to my husband, Kahn, 33.
We both knew it might not be easy…
We’d started trying for Kiki in 2014, about a year after we got married.
But two years later, I still hadn’t fallen pregnant so my doctor prescribed Clomid, a fertility drug that stimulates ovulation.
I was on that for six months and… nothing.
‘Why isn’t this working?’ I fretted to Kahn.
We went to a fertility clinic and it turned out I wasn’t ovulating at all. And the drug I’d been prescribed wasn’t strong enough to stimulate it, either.
Instead, I started ovulation induction, injecting myself with hormones to ripen an egg before triggering its release.
It was third time lucky, and we held each other and cried as our doctor confirmed I was pregnant.
Kiki was born in May 2018 and was our little miracle.
But somehow I just knew our family wasn’t yet complete.
We returned to the fertility clinic and I started back on the ovulation induction treatment.
Two weeks after the first round of injections, I woke up feeling nauseous.
Could I be pregnant already? I wondered.
Days passed, and the sickness got worse.
A blood test confirmed my suspicions.
I was pregnant again!
‘On the first try!’ I cried to Kahn.
Over the coming weeks, I felt so sick I became convinced I was having twins, especially as multiple pregnancies were more likely due to my fertility treatment.
‘I think it’s twins too!’ my mum, Sharon, beamed excitedly.
At our seven-week dating scan, I lay down and the sonographer ran the wand over my belly.
Squinting at the fuzzy screen, I spotted two sacs.
‘Twins! I was right,’ I squealed, pointing.
‘There’s not just two babies…’ the sonographer began.
My jaw dropped.
I must have missed the third sac!
‘Triplets!’ I cried.
But slowly the sonographer shook his head. Then, without a word, he held up four fingers.
I think Kahn almost passed out!
We looked at each other, laughing nervously.
But we were in for a reality check when we visited the doctor that afternoon.
‘This is a seriously high-risk pregnancy,’ he warned us.
There was a huge chance I’d go into pre-term labour and there was only a very small chance all four babies would make it.
My head spun as the doctor told us about ‘foetal reduction’. It meant I was being offered the chance to terminate one, two or even three of the babies to make my pregnancy more viable.
I understood the risks, but I’d just seen my four tiny babies and heard four tiny heartbeats.
‘There’s no way…’ I whispered and Kahn agreed.
Because my pregnancy was high risk, I needed monthly scans, then fortnightly, then weekly.
My belly grew and we told Kiki about the quads.
‘How many babies are there in Mummy’s tummy?’ I’d ask her.
‘Four!’ she’d beam, kissing my bump.
Doctors were amazed by how well they were doing.
‘All four babies are growing nicely,’ I was told at each scan.
I, however, was struggling.
By four months, I looked - and felt - full term.
The pregnancy was taking a huge toll on my body. I was constantly nauseous and suffered stabbing pelvic pain.
By 32 weeks, I was done.
‘Please keep going,’ the doctor said. ‘The longer they’re in, the better.’
So we booked a C-section for 34 weeks.
Kahn was by my side as I was wheeled into theatre. There were over 50 staff in the room as each baby needed its own medical team.
I watched in awe as each baby was lifted out of me.
First was our son, Maioha, who weighed 2.3 kilos.
He was followed by our daughters, Frankee who was 1.9 kilos, Marley 2.2 kilos and Maddison 2.1 kilos – really healthy weights for premmie babies!
Marley and Maioha were whisked away as they needed help breathing, but Frankee and Maddison were placed in my arms for a cuddle.
I was overcome with emotion.
‘They’re perfect,’ I said.
All four babies were placed on CPAP machines to help them breathe but other than that, they were perfectly fine.
They looked squishy and healthy – and Maioha was the spitting image of his dad with a shock of dark hair.
After four weeks of careful monitoring, we were allowed to take them home.
And that was when the fun and games began!
The quads are on a four- hourly bottle feeding cycle.
Thankfully, Kahn was given some time off work.
It takes us both 1.5 hours to feed all four babies.
As soon as they’re back to sleep, we’re counting down to the next one.
We get through mountains of formula and bottles and more nappies than I can count – but we wouldn’t change it for the world.
We’re exhausted but blissfully happy.
Kiki loves her new brother and sisters, who are now 11 weeks old, and she’s always cuddling them.
When we had Kiki, we thought it was a miracle.
Now we have four more miracles to add to the list.