As I have already said, at this stage in my life, I was happy.

Rick and I both felt like our family was complete.

We both were working.

The children were settled at school and nursery.

Our family was comfortable with its routine.

Then one morning, myself and the children were getting ready for our day ahead. As soon as I had gotten out of bed, I felt a little unwell. I was nauseous, cramping up in my stomach and my lower back was very achey. But as we mothers do—I just got on with what needed to be done.

By the time I had got to work, I really wasn't feeling good, but again, I tried to just carry on with my morning. Somehow, I managed to get through doing an entire numeracy lesson, but as soon as the morning break bell rang out, I went to the toilet because I really thought I was going to be sick. To my horror, it was during that hurried trip to the toilet, was when I discovered that I was bleeding. I only remember crying with shock, crying with the disbelief that I was in the staff room loo, bleeding and cramping up. At some point, I had to pull myself together. I didn't want any of the children seeing the emotional mess that I was in. All I had to do, was get out of the toilet and make it to the head teachers office, without being seen. Once I was there, I knew that she would take calm control of the situation. Peeping out of the door of the toilet, I checked that there was no one around, then ran to where I needed to be. Once safely inside, I just fell apart.

"Is there someone that you can be with, Mary Rose? You shouldn't be on your own today." My kind boss so thoughtfully had said.

Tired and drained, I had nodded. "I can go to my friends house, she's not far from here." Cora was now living close by. In fact, she had married Rick's boss, after we had introduced them to one another at a New Years Eve party.

So it was into the arms of my dear friend Cora, that I had sobbed into until Rick could come and get me. Cora was also by my side the next day, when it was confirmed that I'd had a miscarriage. I already knew that I had, I just needed it confirmed. I didn't want Rick with me to hear that, he has never been good with such things, so when Cora offered to accompany me to the hospital, I gladly said yes.

The pregnancy was unplanned, but that didn't make the miscarriage any easier. I was seven weeks pregnant when my body rejected our baby, but my soul never rejected our child. My soul, it wanted to remember our baby that never would be placed into my arms.

Within two days, I would be back to work.

Within a week, I was very much back into the normal swing of my life...yet something had changed inside of me.

The contentment and the fullness that I'd always felt, now felt big and empty. The completeness that my two boys and my little girl had given to me, suddenly felt incomplete and unfinished. Losing my baby, made me lose so much more—happiness, satisfaction and an inner peace—it all had left me.

Just when I thought that the yearning for more children had long ago been peacefully put to bed, that yearning came back with a powerful vengeance. I wanted another baby, I wasn't yet finished having more children. By the time that the next month came, I would be pregnant again. Looking back on it, maybe I was replacing the loss of one baby, with yet another? Maybe that was wrong? Maybe it was all too soon?

But when my third son was eventually handed to me, not once did I ever doubt how he came to be placed into my arms. His labour was a difficult and painful one, but I never regretted making the decision to have him. He was supposed to be here. If I hadn't lost my previous baby, my beautiful boy probably wouldn't have ever been born. I probably wouldn't have made that decision to be a mother to another child again.

The ripple effect of having my son, forced me to make the decision to sadly leave my job. Being a mum of four, was a game changer for me. Juggling a job and motherhood, suddenly became so much harder. So after my maternity leave, I walked away from my role as a teaching assistant, to concentrate on my role as a mum.

When I am working, I put in 110%, I pride myself on being a reliable and punctual professional. But having four children, wouldn't always make that possible. There were times while I was at work, that I'd get a call, saying that one of my kids had taken ill at school or nursery. Of course, I'd go and collect my sick child, all the while feeling like I had let down my class colleague and the entire class itself. The guilt I would have about not being a good mother or a good teaching assistant, often twisted me up inside. It would be better for everyone involved, if I just simplified things. So I decided to take the pressure from off myself and just concentrate on my family.

That too, was the right decision.

Not only for me, but for all of us.

When my son was just a toddler, myself and Rick talked about the possibility of making four children become five. There was quite a big age gap between our youngest son and his other siblings, and we thought it would be lovely for him to share a bond with someone else, just like his older brother and sister shared. So, we decided to have just one more baby.

As soon as I fell pregnant, I just knew that this pregnancy was different from all of the others. "There's either something wrong or I'm carrying twins." Is what I'd constantly tell Rick.

The morning sickness was just awful.

The tiredness was even more awful.

The size of me, was worryingly awful.

Sure enough, at our 12 week scan, we were told what I already knew. "I can see one baby head here and another baby head up there...merry Christmas, you're having twins!" The sonographer had cheerily announced. "Now, let me just check that there's not another head tucked up around here."

At that point, Rick went white and I just cried. "It's alright, darling...it's going to be okay." He was trying to tell me that it would be alright, yet he himself, really didn't look alright.

"Nope, definitely just the two in there." With a smile, the sonographer assured us that there were only two babies in my tummy on that Christmas Eve afternoon. Our one more baby, had turned into two more babies.

In a daze, we left the hospital.

In a daze, we went back home.

On both sides of our families, twins ran in the bloodline. I think that, combined with me breastfeeding our son, increased our odds of conceiving twins. And once the shock of it all had subsided, I was actually delighted. From the first moment that I was told, I knew I had two little girls inside of me. When people asked me about whether I had any preferences, I would always say. "Having two healthy babies of anything would be good for me, but if I could choose, I'd adore two little girls."

When I was 28 weeks pregnant, we had a private 4D scan. At our 20 week hospital scan, we were told that Twin A was a girl, but they couldn't be sure about Twin B. So the 28 week scan was to confirm what my heart and soul already knew.

"We have a girly bum here and another girly bum up here." I'd already told the lovely sonographer what I was hoping for, so she took great joy in telling me that I was indeed, getting what I wished for.

Carrying twins at the age of thirty eight is no walk in the park, let me tell you, but as I always did, I just got on with it. At this point in my life, I knew what I was doing as a mother. I had successfully breastfed my previous three babies. Motherhood, I totally had it licked.

Meanwhile, Rick worried incessantly.

He worried about me.

He worried about the babies.

When I was finally induced at 38 weeks pregnant, I honestly thought that Rick might need the hospital bed more than me.

Our girls would naturally come into the world, with six minutes between them. Once born, they captivated us. Once I gave birth to the beautiful and utterly precious them, I knew that they would be my very last babies.

The joy those two little girls have brought into all of our worlds, is something that I feel thankful for every single day. Born as twins, very different as individuals, yet so proudly loved the same.

They, have completed me.

They, have completed our family.

They, have completed everything.

I remember nan coming to see us all at the hospital. She was highly emotional yet so happy. As tired as I was, I could only feel more of that guilt prickling everywhere over my just-given-birth skin, for I knew that the twins would leave me even less time for my nan. She was getting older and they were much younger. The girls would need me, but I sensed that nan was needing me too. After everyone had gone, I cried. I cried because I suddenly felt overwhelmed. I don't think I even slept much that night. I kept staring at my two wonderful little girls, promising them that I'd do my very best. I think part of myself, was wanting to say that to my nan as well. I will do my best, Nan.

Having our girls, stirred up a lot of new feelings.

I wanted to still be a good mother, a loyal granddaughter, a content wife, a constant friend. I didn't want to fail at any of those things. Having my girls, also spiritually shifted something inside of me too. Every time I looked at them, I began thinking more and more of the baby that I once lost. While I was trying not to fail at being a good mother, a loyal granddaughter, a content wife and a constant friend—which, I wasn't doing too bad with, may I add—I still couldn't forget the little one that I never got to bring home.

In my heart, in the motherly corners of my soul, I knew that she was a girl. I just knew, that I'd lost a daughter.

There were times when I would breastfeed the girls at night, which was always such a peaceful and calm time, when I would be softly wakened by the whisper of a little girl, calling. "Mummy."

It happened a few times, and on all three occasions, I just figured I had dreamt it. Then some years later, that ignoring of her could no longer be ignored. Jason was getting married for the second time. It didn't work out with his first marriage and it was at our wedding, that he was introduced to a cousin of Rick's. Immediately, Jason and Kira hit it off. Within months, they were living together. Within more months, they had bought their first house together. Kira would go on to be pregnant at the same time as I was, when I had my third son and the twins. Our children, have grown up alongside Jason and Kira's two boys, so them getting married was a huge family celebration for us all. Even my mum and nan would be reunited again, after many years of estrangement. Yes, it was going to be a wonderful family day.

And it was, it really was.

After a beautiful outdoor wedding, followed by an intimate reception, that then finished on a dancing high with a fabulous disco—Jason and Kira's big day was a special time.

It would have been even more special, if nan hadn't been a little difficult at times. Over the years, her mobility had declined. She had been advised by doctors and physiotherapists to try to remain as active as she possibly could. But nan, she was stubborn and defiant. She began getting her new friends to push her around in a wheelchair, something that I wasn't altogether impressed with.

At Jason's wedding, she insisted on bringing that damn wheelchair with her. Both myself and Rick explained that she could walk with us, trying to discourage her from bringing it along. But she got upset, sulked a lot; so we ended up giving in to her. That chair, ended up being the very thing that made my nan feel excluded on that day. I think nan expected that everyone would gather themselves around her and that chair, but it was a wedding—everyone was mingling, the kids were outside playing and having fun.

Nan sulked a lot during that day. She demanded to be pushed here, to be pushed there. I felt like I couldn't fully enjoy my brother's wedding day, because I was babysitting nan and the wheelchair that she really shouldn't have even been in. She could walk, she just chose not to. She could have mingled, again, she just chose not to.

My mum only stayed for the wedding and the reception, then decided to go back to her room. She promised nan that she would come back down for the disco, which nan had looked forward to.

By the time that the disco did start, nan was upset and already crying because mum was nowhere to be seen. I did go and find my mum, but she said she wouldn't be coming down. Well that, emotionally pushed nan right over the edge. I don't think nan was intentionally trying to spoil my day, but she certainly wanted my attention. In the end, myself and Rick both calmed her down, then suggested that maybe it would be best if she rested back in her room. Nan agreed, so we wheeled her all the way there.

I won't lie, I only felt relief as I closed the door behind us. Followed by a swift kick of hard guilt. Upset because I was upset, Rick persuaded me to go and enjoy the disco.

I did enjoy that disco.

In fact, I loved it.

It would take a few songs before I was able to dance away the guilt from off my shoulders about nan, but I managed to do just that.

After a fun night, myself and Rick happily went to bed. The kids had gone up to the room a couple of hours earlier, exhausted from the fun-filled day and night. As we quietly crept inside, they were all fast asleep. It wasn't long before Rick himself, would be just the same. I don't know how much longer it took for me to be taken by the hand of sleep, but at some point I was. It was from that sleep, that I was woken by a small voice that I'd not heard for quite some time.

"Mummy?" It was just a whisper, a questioning whisper that startled me enough to fully wake me.

I know I had been unsettled because of Nan's behaviour during that day, but I'd gone to bed happily tired...however, I knew that voice, I'd heard it before.

I forced myself out of bed, thinking that maybe one of the children had called out to me. Checking each one of them, they were all still deeply asleep. Tired and confused, I trudged back to my side of the bed. In the dark, I felt strange. Surrounded by the gentle breathing of all my children and my husband, I was trying to rationalise the tiny voice that had just woken me up. Even for me, that was hard. Knowing that we had the wedding breakfast early the next morning, I forced myself to close my eyes and try to relax again. No sooner had I done that, I was woken by a loud whisper.

"Mummy?!" This time, the tiny voice sounded cross, even impatient. It was like she was getting angry at my ignoring of her.

"What do you want?" Tired and just as cross, I yelled at her to help me to understand why she kept calling out to me.

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Just darkness and the breathing of my sleeping family was all that could be heard.

I didn't sleep for the rest of that night. During the wedding breakfast, I was quiet and solemn. "You okay, Mary Rose?" Kira's sister Veronica, had noticed my withdrawn mood.

"I'm okay, just tired." Was my subdued explanation. I couldn't even look at Veronica, because I felt that at any moment, I would cry.

"You seem sad?" She sensed that something was burdening me. "What's wrong?"

Sighing with a sadness that I couldn't even explain, all I could do was shake my head. "You wouldn't believe me, even if I told you."

With an encouraging smile, Kira's sister softly then said. "Try me?"

So, I told her.

I told her everything.

To my relief, Veronica didn't think I was insane. She listened and she believed me. "Sounds like your little girl wanted you to notice her, that's for sure. Maybe because all of you are celebrating Jason's wedding, which has been a real family affair...maybe she has wanted to be a part of it too?"

My little girl did want me to notice her.

The day after the wedding breakfast, she would call out to me again.

After a lot of time thinking about all that happened. After talking about it to those who I knew would understand and not come to the conclusion that I might be certifiable, I eventually decided to name my little girl.

In my soul, that it was I felt like she was needing from me. She wanted to be acknowledged. She wanted to be a someone within our family.

Even now, I sometimes talk to her.

And I'm always thinking of her.

Since then, her whispers to me have been silent.

I think my acknowledgement of her has completed her, just like it has completed me. My motherly soul, now feels satisfyingly full.

In my heart, that is truly what I believe she wanted. She just wanted to be a part of something. Which she most certainly is. My little whisperer shall always be a part of me, and shall always be a part of our family.