By Dr. Karen O’Brien
Never before in my obstetric practice have I taken care of so many twin pregnancies. What I witness in my own office is part of a nationwide trend: Over the last two decades, the twin birth rate in the United States rose 76 percent, from 19 to 33 per 1,000 births.
And never before have I taken care of so many twin pregnancies with complications.
The specific complication that has given me pause in the last year or two is the loss of one twin, either during or after pregnancy.
This doesn’t happen often, but I have taken care of a number of patients recently who have lost a twin during or shortly after pregnancy. And I’ve learned that though outsiders might see a glass half full, this experience is uniquely devastating, both emotionally and medically.
We must all understand that the life of one twin does not eradicate grief for the sibling who died.
The hope and anticipation of bringing home two healthy babies comes grinding to a halt. The joy of delivery is clouded by sibling loss.
As early as 18 weeks, Melissa’s identical twins showed signs of a complication called twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome, which occurs when one of the twins essentially donates blood to the other.
At 19 weeks, Melissa underwent surgery to try to correct the problem. Unfortunately, two days after the surgery, one of the twins passed away. Melissa remained pregnant for 13 more weeks and ultimately underwent cesarean section at 32 weeks.
She and her husband were able to hold the deceased twin for several hours after delivery. Her live twin did well; she spent a few weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) and is now home and thriving.
Samantha’s twins were not identical, and were conceived through in vitro fertilization. At 14 weeks, we found that one of the twins, a boy, had several serious abnormalities. Even at that early gestational age, we knew that he would not live for long after birth, and might pass away during the pregnancy. The other twin, a girl, appeared normal throughout the pregnancy. Continue reading