09/03/2026
Long before we knew words like "Duchenne," "CK levels," or "genetic testing," our story began with two tiny babies. Matthew has a twin sister named Addison. My pregnancy was considered healthy. Other than knowing I was carrying twins, everything seemed to be going well. Like any expectant parent, I spent those months imagining the future. I pictured birthday parties, first days of school, family vacations, and watching my two babies grow up together. Then, at 34 weeks, everything changed. My water broke six weeks early. Premature twins aren't uncommon, but it still wasn't the ending to my pregnancy that I had imagined. Suddenly everything moved so fast. There were doctors, nurses, bright lights, and more emotions than I could process.
When Matthew was born, he wasn't breathing. He was born in full cardiac arrest. No parent is ever prepared for that moment. The excitement of finally meeting your baby is instantly replaced with fear. You don't know what's happening. You don't know what comes next. You just hope with everything you have that your child will survive.
At the same time, Addison had her own battle. She was born with hip dysplasia, meaning her hip joint hadn't developed properly.
Instead of bringing two healthy babies home, we began our journey in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. For three weeks, the NICU became our world. Every day was filled with monitors, medical equipment, and waiting. Waiting for Matthew's heart to stabilize. Waiting for both babies to gain enough weight. Waiting to hear that they were finally strong enough to come home.
Eventually, that day came.
We packed up our tiny babies and walked out of the hospital believing the hardest part was behind us. For a little while, life felt normal. We settled into life with newborn twins. Sleepless nights became routine. Bottles, diapers, tiny clothes, and endless cuddles filled our days. I was exhausted, just like every new parent. We thought we had survived the biggest scare of our lives.
We had no idea that our journey was only beginning.
Looking back now, it's impossible not to wonder if some of those early struggles were pieces of a puzzle that hadn't been put together yet. At the time, though, we were simply grateful to have our babies home.
Matthew wasn't "the little boy with Duchenne." He was just my son. And Addison wasn't "the healthy twin." She was simply his sister—his built-in best friend from the very beginning.
We didn't know what the future would hold. We just knew we loved them more than words could ever describe.