They say that you are truly healed from something only when you can speak about it without it affecting you. For me, prematurity has still left deep scars.

My name is Gerlinde Lungu and I am the mother of twins born prematurely at a very low gestational age - just 27 weeks.

As with all stories, ours begins with “once upon a time.” Once upon a time, there were two little girls—tiny, the smallest babies I had ever seen. They were not dolls; they were human beings, each weighing less than one kilogram. Sadly, no one prepares you for the world of prematurity. Once you enter it, a new reality of motherhood opens up - one that begins with fear of the unknown, a world full of questions, where despite having thousands of them, answers are scarce.

For us, prematurity meant 87 days of hospitalisation - days and nights filled with waiting and hoping that one day we would be able to bring our children home. During their time in hospital, the girls underwent three blood transfusions, several plasma infusions, medical tests, infections, X-rays - all bringing with them a storm of emotions: tears, smiles, fear, distrust, hope - an overwhelming blend of feelings, multiplied by two, as there were two tiny hearts beating in two incubators, marked at birth with the numbers 13 and 14.

Sadly, our battle did not end when we left the neonatal intensive care unit. Closing the door to the maternity ward, we realised we had won only one battle - not the war.

This year marks six years in our journey with prematurity. Yes, because for us, the struggle did not end when we were discharged. What followed were countless medical appointments - monitoring for retinopathy of prematurity and assembling the right team of doctors to oversee the growth and development of our twins, Rebeca and Diana. This team included our paediatrician, ophthalmologist, neurologist, orthopaedist, and the physiotherapists - without whom the girls' progress would not have been possible. Each one played a vital role in supporting their harmonious development and recovery.

Although they are twins, their paths to recovery have not been the same. The long road has been marked by steady, small steps. Physiotherapy sessions have been essential.

The start of 2023 brought strabismus surgery for both girls. Then, in September, Rebeca underwent a selective myotenofasciotomy to reduce spasticity, as she had been diagnosed with spastic paraparesis - a deeper consequence of prematurity. Looking back, I am in awe of the willpower, determination, and fighting spirit in our little heroes, who have battled since their very first breath. Their first day wasn’t spent on their mother’s chest - it was in an incubator, surrounded by needles, IVs, and machines that never stopped beeping.

It is not easy for a child to dedicate more than 25 hours a week to physiotherapy, hydrotherapy, or occupational therapy. It is not easy to learn each day how to walk, to go up or down stairs, to step off a curb, to use scissors, fasten a button, or to manage a fall or a sudden fright without losing balance. To undergo regular tests and to be more vulnerable due to low immunity. As parents, we must trust in our little ones, accept the thorns of prematurity, find the strength to embrace our reality, and seek out solutions - always hoping that one day, our story will have a beautiful ending.

We are deeply grateful to the ARNIS family for supporting us in the girls' recovery from the very beginning. Without their help - and the people who have chosen to stand by us - we could not have come this far in our fight against prematurity. Thank you!

My message to parents of premature babies is: do not give up. Believe in yourselves and in your precious little ones, because nothing is too early or too late. Everything happens for a reason, and together, you will succeed.