My identical twin boys, Arlo and Austin, made their entrance into the world six weeks early at 34 weeks and one day in Chelmsford. Throughout my pregnancy I had fortnightly scans to monitor their development. They shared a placenta, making them high-risk. At my 33+6 week scan, the consultant noticed that Arlo’s growth had stagnated, and he was showing signs of stress. It was decided that they needed to be delivered within 48 hours, so I was given steroid injections to help their lung development and prepared for a C-section.
The birth itself was challenging – I lost nearly two litres of blood and couldn’t see my boys for the first twelve hours while I recovered in the labour ward. Meanwhile, they were taken to NICU. However, both Arlo and Austin showed amazing strength and resilience. After a week in the transitional care ward, receiving some jaundice treatment but otherwise thriving, we were finally able to bring them home. It felt like we were at the start of our new chapter as a family.
Two days later, everything changed. In the middle of the night, at home, Arlo began struggling to breathe, unable to catch a breath. The next hours were a blur. An ambulance rushed us to Queen’s Hospital in Romford, with me travelling alongside Arlo. My husband Dale followed behind, with Austin and Elliot, our eldest, in tow.
When Arlo’s condition worsened further, he had to be intubated and transferred to The Royal London, miles away from home. We immediately called Dale’s sister, who drove down from Peterborough in the early hours to collect Elliot and take him home for the weekend. Dale’s mum made the same journey a couple of days later, as the family pulled together to support us.
‘Overwhelmed with worry’
When Arlo’s condition worsened further, he had to be intubated and transferred to The Royal London, miles away from home. We immediately called Dale’s sister, who drove down from Peterborough in the early hours to collect Elliot and take him home for the weekend. Dale’s mum made the same journey a couple of days later, as the family pulled together to support us.
Still recovering from major surgery, my body was weak and my mind was overwhelmed with worry. How could I leave one twin to be with the other? How could I manage this journey while also caring for Austin?
When I arrived at The Royal London, I was told Austin wouldn’t be allowed on the ward. Panic set in. The boys were only ten days old and breastfeeding every two to three hours. How would I manage to be with Arlo while also continuing to nourish Austin? Then, I was offered a room at Stevenson House, a home run by The Sick Children’s Trust. In that moment, the weight on my shoulders lifted. I could stay close to Arlo while also caring for Austin. I could breastfeed my babies without having to navigate long and exhausting journeys back and forth.
Arlo’s condition remained unclear. Doctors suspected he’d caught a cold, which, combined with his prematurity, led to him inhaling some milk. A sleep study revealed he was experiencing an average of 26 central apnoeas – a sleep disorder where breathing stops – per hour, far more than normal. We anxiously awaited further tests, but over time, his condition improved. By December, his apnoea episodes had reduced to just two per hour. We were signed off from the sleep clinic, a huge relief after such a frightening ordeal.
Dale was my rock throughout it all, allowing me to move between the boys when needed. Occasionally, he’d head back home in the evening to see Elliot, ensuring we kept some sense of normality for him. It was quite the balancing act, and I truly couldn’t have done it without his unwavering support.
Stevenson House ‘made all the difference’
Without Stevenson House, I don’t know how we would have coped. I would have been forced to travel in and out of London each day, sitting in the hospital lobby with Austin, waiting for moments to see Arlo. Or I would have had to stop breastfeeding entirely, leaving Arlo in the hospital without the benefits of my milk. Instead, I was able to be there for both of my babies, expressing milk for Arlo’s feeding tube and eventually transitioning him back to breastfeeding. Today, at almost twelve weeks old, both boys are exclusively breastfed, and I credit that entirely to the support we received during that critical week.
Beyond the practicalities, staying at Stevenson House also provided emotional and mental relief. Being able to step out of the hospital, even briefly, helped me process everything. The community of other parents in similar situations offered comfort and solidarity. The simple act of preparing a meal in the shared kitchen while chatting with others made me feel less alone. And everyone adored Austin—his presence brought smiles to so many faces.
The day Arlo was discharged was overwhelming. I held him in my arms and cried, overjoyed to finally take him home and reunite our family. Elliot, who had been patiently waiting to properly meet his little brothers, could finally spend time with them. At last, we could begin life as a family of five.
Looking back, I feel incredibly fortunate that we only needed Stevenson House for a week, but that week made all the difference. It allowed me to care for my twins in a way I otherwise couldn’t have. It gave me the space to recover from my C-section while staying close to both of my babies. It meant I could establish breastfeeding during those crucial early days. That week may have been short, but the impact it had on our family will last a lifetime. For all of that, I will always be grateful to The Sick Children’s Trust. They truly provided a home from home at a time when we needed it the most.
Alice Lown Roberts, Arlo and Austin’s mum
