So I'm now related to twins, not just married into a family of them. Jessica and Ailsa, weighing as much as a bag of sugar and a white loaf each, according to my brother, who likes to work things out. He once prised open his leather football (Christmas present, only hours old) to see how it functioned, delivering it of its bladder and wrecking it, basically. Rather like a C. section without the gore. I sincerely hope he doesn't try to work out how breathing tubes, feeding tubes, incubators and respirators tick because those girls need them right now.
I seem to remember that football Christmas being a fractious one, once it was discovered that you can't get the bladder back in...
Fingers crossed that the girls don't need the tubes for long, and they lay down lots of lovely protective fat pearls to keep them warm and safe and allow their mother to hold them.
Bursting with hope, can't wait to see the pictures and to meet them.
Go girls, go!