Steph and Chris never imagined they’d have to say goodbye to one of their twin boys while fighting to save the other.
Our twin boys, Jett and Zayd, were born at 23 weeks and 5 days.
Our anatomy scan at 22 weeks and 4 days, showed an incompetent cervix and moderate to severe IUGR (Intrauterine Growth Restriction). We were given the news that Jett would not survive. At the time he was measuring no more than 18 weeks.
After a week of strict bed rest, I began heavily bleeding and went into labour. Both boys were successfully intubated and taken to the Royal Women’s Hospital NICU.
Just shy of five hours after birth, Jett passed peacefully on Chris’ chest, holding on to my hand.
Grieving one, fighting for the other
While we grieved our sweet boy, we were also living the hardest journey we have ever endured. For nearly 5 months baby Zayd was in NICU. There were many times where we thought we would lose him too.
Navigating grief for one twin while remaining strong for the other is something I feel is rarely talked about. You are grieving and experiencing hope at the same time, alongside the fear of losing your remaining baby too.
Outside hospital walls, the world often expects grieving parents to move on. But grief doesn’t work that way. Not when you’re sitting beside an incubator, holding your breath, hoping your other baby will make it through the night.
Never letting Jett’s name go unspoken
Through it all, Red Nose walked beside us.
Their counsellors gave us one-on-one support. Their 24/7 Grief & Loss Support Line was there whenever we needed it, day or night. We connected with other families through peer support who understood exactly what we were carrying. And the Red Nose website gave us words and resources when we had none of our own.
What helped most was being told that every emotion we felt was normal. That there is no straight line through grief.
The nurses and doctors said Jett’s name throughout our stay. They even created an alphabet book with his hand and footprints, placing him inside his brother’s cot for photos. They made sure Jett was never left out of his twin’s story.
If you can, I would appreciate if you could make a small donation to help support families like mine navigating the heartbreak of the death of a baby. It’s only because of donations from Red Nose’s compassionate community, that Red Nose can be there for families walking this same path of heartbreaking loss. Click here to donate >
Support like this means bereaved families don’t have to grieve quietly or alone. It means a baby’s name is spoken, remembered, and honoured.
Coming home
We know that Jett is the reason Zayd made it home with us. The sadness of losing Jett didn’t end when Zayd came home. Grief doesn’t take time off. We feel it in the quiet moments, in the milestones, on special days, and in the space where Jett should be.
Red Nose’s 24/7 Grief & Loss Support Line, counselling services, and peer support groups continue to be there for families like ours. And for as long as we need them.
Jett is in every part of our lives, and always will be.
Why sharing this story matters
Every day in Australia, nine families lose a baby or child suddenly and unexpectedly. Nine families each day who will need somewhere to turn when the world feels like it has stopped.
No one should have to go through the unimaginable pain of the death of a baby or child. But if they do, Red Nose is there to sit with them in the moments that matter. And provide tailored grief support and services.
In loving memory of Jett, in honour of Zayd.Â
If this story has brought back any difficult memories, please know that we are here for you. Our free Grief & Loss Support Line is available 24/7. Call 1300 308 307.
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