‘It changed my life’: Finding support on the loss of a twin

Two adult hands holding two sets of baby's feet

Five minute read

Lorna Marsh’s twin sister Christina died when they were both less than two days old. Lorna talks to us about the impact of losing a twin, and the support and friendship she has found through the Lone Twin Network.

When my sister died, my parents were broken-hearted. It was one of the worst moments of their lives. They decided that the best thing to do for them to be okay was not to talk about me being a twin.

‘I knew something was missing.’

My parents were always sure that at one time or another they would tell me. They were never going to keep it from me. They had loads of conversations between themselves, but couldn’t find the right moment to tell me.

When I was about ten, I found out from a classmate’s parent about having been a twin. I didn't question it. That night, I came home from school, and I said, ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

I realised then that I'd always known that something was missing.

My mum knew I was struggling and she thought it might be connected to not having my twin. She leant on the Lone Twin Network for support. You can’t go to meetings until you’re eighteen, and it was more than ten years after that before I decided to reach out to them myself.

In my 30s, I decided that I couldn't have another birthday feeling this terrible and I needed help. Basically, I was really, really lost and didn't know how to explain it to myself.

The Lone Twin Network changed my life. Now I am much more stable.

‘I couldn’t make it through the door.’

I didn't even make it through the door of the first meeting I tried to go to. I travelled all the way into London on the train and was adamant that I was going to go in, but when I got to the door, I couldn't do it.

I knew I needed to go with someone else to the next meeting, otherwise the same thing would happen, so my friend came with me.

When we got there, she took the power away from my wheelchair so that I couldn't reverse — and she closed the door behind me! I literally had no choice but to go in. I was really angry at the time, but actually it was the best thing she could have done.

At the time I couldn't put it into words, but the reason I couldn't go in was because I felt guilty for feeling the way I felt.

How could I miss someone that I was with for such a short time? Did I have a right to be here when there were people in this room who had lost their twin after 30 years of being together? I thought that their grief must be more legitimate than mine.

I found out later that this feeling is very common among people whose twin died very early on. And yet, people whose twins have died, after say 30 or 40 years of being together, often feel sorry for us, because we didn't have any time at all with our twins. We don’t have memories of them.

When I first heard that, it completely floored me, and that's when the guilt started to go. If you lose your twin at birth, you don’t have memories, all you've got is a feeling and a birth certificate and the knowledge that you feel like something's missing.

Working out who you are

There are people in the Network who didn't find out they were a twin until after their parents died. They might be in their sixties or older. They come to the Network to work out who they are.

Some will look for their twin’s grave. It’s hard without the paperwork. Back in the day, they used to put several people into one grave. Some do find comfort in knowing that their twin was buried with other people, and they are not alone.

What a lot of people do if they can't find a grave, is to get a tattoo or necklace or something like that made in memory of their twin.

Making change through the Butterfly Project

The Lone Twin Network partners with the Butterfly Project, which is aiming to change the way hospitals handle the situation. It used to be that, once the twin had died, their name was rubbed off the board, and that was that.

The Butterfly Project wants to change the experience for the family, and for the sibling who's left behind, by teaching medical staff to behave differently.

My mum is super happy that I am involved. It’s like gold dust for her. My mum didn't even get to hold my twin, because she died before she had the chance.

‘Everybody’s like brothers and sisters.’

The Lone Twin Network was founded by Joan Woodward in the early 1980s. She was quite something. She would be there at every single meeting across the country, without fail, into her late eighties. I got to meet her before she died and was able to thank her.

A Lone Twin Network meeting can be the first time someone has spoken out loud about their twin. It's a completely safe place. At that first meeting, the emotion can hit you in a big way.

At each meeting, there are a separate group for new people, and other discussion groups. As a committee member, I facilitate a group — not to control what's talked about, but to make sure that everybody who wants to speak gets to speak and that everybody gets heard. Some people won't ever speak, but they want to listen.

After the meeting, well, after the London one anyway, we go to the pub. Everyone chats about whatever they want to chat about. It might not be about their twin.

It’s a big social and everybody feels like brothers and sisters, even if you've only met them once or twice. And so, nobody ever really wants the meeting to end.

If you are a lone twin, are you looking for someone who can relate to you or a group of people that are ready to listen? Find out more about the Lone Twin Network for in-person meetings and a Facebook group.

Read more interviews from Poppy’s blog.

(Photo: Michael Fallon, Unsplash)

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