Battle of the Babies
Twins Charlie and James. Who would look after them? Real Lives, Pick Me Up, Issue 29
Wednesday 25th July 2007
To most families, it would have been a reason to crack open the bubbly. But for me, the news that my sister had given birth sent a shiver down my spine.
'Your sister's had identical twin boys,' said the nurse down the phone.
My half-sister, Joanna, 36, had been born with learning difficulties, and found the adult world hard to understand. To make matters worse, she lived in Swindon, Wiltshire, and I was living 10,000 miles away, in Batemans Bay, New South Wales, Australia.
Joanna was 3 when her dad, Charles Backus, got together with my mum, Mary, now 60. They'd had me, but had then split up when I was 10 months old. Mum and I then moved to Australia, while Joanna and Dad stayed in Swindon.
Dad phoned constantly, and when I was 8, I'd gone to visit. Joanna was 18, but we'd played with my Barbie dolls together. At the time, it hadn't seemed odd to me for an adult to join in when I played with my dolls. But as I became a teenager, it was the way Dad talked about Joanna that made me understand she was different.
With Dad's support, Joanna managed to build a life for herself. She'd got her own flat in Swindon and a cleaning job. But in 2003, Dad was diagnosed with terminal skin cancer. We worried about how Joanna would cope. Then, a year into his treatment, she had some news.
'I'm pregnant,' she giggled down the phone.
'Oh no,' I'd gasped.
Joanna lived with her boyfriend, William Bell, 18. But she found it hard to look after herself. How could she look after a child?
Dad didn't have long left, and Joanna's mum, Diana, had died 15 years earlier. Mum and I were the only family she had, but we were thousands of miles away.
'How on earth's she going to cope?' I said to Mum.
'She's got no idea,' she fretted.
We became even more worried when Dad died. By then, Joanna was six months' pregnant. We knew social services would keep a close watch over Joanna, but now, in April 2005, the moment we'd been dreading had finally arrived. The nurse passed the phone to Joanna.
'They're beautiful,' she sobbed. 'I'm going to call them James and Charlie, after Dad.'
I prayed she'd be OK. But six days later, I was at Mum's when Joanna phoned, hysterical.
'The twins have been taken into foster care,' she sobbed.
My worst fear. I couldn't bear the thought of them living with strangers.
'They're our family,' I said to Mum. 'We've got to do something.'
Mum agreed, and we got onto the British Consulate and social services straight away. I wanted them to know that Joanna and the boys had family who loved them. In the months that followed, the strain took its toll on Joanna and William, and they split.
The boys were 6 months old, when social services phoned with earth-shattering news.
'The courts have decided that Joanna isn't able to look after them,' the social worker explained. 'They'll be put up for adoption.'
'Will they stay together?' I asked.
'It's likely we'll have to separate them,' came the reply.
'I'll adopt them,' I blurted.
Yes, it was a snap decision. But the alternative was just too awful. Joanna was thrilled.
'You're going to look after them?' she gasped.
'I hope so,' I replied.
But inside, I was thinking, What have I done?
I'd never wanted children. Now I was offering to adopt twins I'd never met. And I hadn't even discussed it with my boyfriend, Darren Harris, 45. Sadly, it was the final straw for us. We'd been growing apart, and Darren already had two grown children.
'You'd always said you didn't want kids,' he protested.
'I didn't,' I said. 'Until now.'
We split up, and I moved into Mum's three-bedroom house in Batemans Bay. I realised my world was going to be turned upside down. Could I really do this?
'I'll help,' Mum reassured me.
We found solicitors in the UK and Australia, then went through months of assessments by the Australian social services. I worked extra shifts as a care worker, to help raise the £10,500 we needed for solicitors' fees.
Charlie and James were 18 months old when Mum and I travelled to Swindon, determined not to go home without our boys. First of all, we met Joanna for lunch at a café. She was over the moon.
'You're going to have my boys,' she beamed.
'We're going to try,' Mum said.
The following day, Mum and I went to meet the twins and their foster parents at an indoor playground. I was beside myself with nerves.
'What if they don't take to me?' I panicked.
'It'll be fine,' Mum said.
And she was right. As soon as I saw their blond hair and big blue eyes, I felt a huge rush of love.
'Hello,' I said, lifting Charlie up onto my lap.
He gave me a big smile. Instantly, any doubts vanished. After that, we visited them every day, and gradually, I got to know all about their different personalities. Charlie was cheeky and loved riding his tricycle. James was quieter and liked cuddles.
After two months, they were put into my care at the house that Mum and I rented. I relished my new role as a mum. We saw Joanna regularly, too, but the heartbreaking thing was she wasn't allowed to see the boys while the adoption was going through. But I made sure she had lots of photos, and told her all about how they were developing.
Then, last April, we went to the High Court in Bristol. It was all over in seconds. The judge stamped a few papers, and the boys were legally mine. Suddenly, I was a mum-of-two.
'They'll be safe with you,' Joanna grinned the next day.
'I promise I'll be a good mum for you,' I choked.
As Mum and I boarded the back to Australia, plane, holding a twin each, I felt happy to be saving them from adoption. But sad to be taking them from Joanna. They still speak on the phone all the time, though.
In the space of 18 months, my life has been turned upside down. But it was the least I could do for my sister. After all, families are worth fighting for.
Read more stories about unusual families only in Pick Me Up:
The Devil's People
Why did my sisters commit suicide?