**Diary Entry**
*”What were you thinking, having a baby at nearly 50?”* My family scolded me over the phone.
Im 46. A month ago, I gave birth to twinsa boy named Oliver and a girl named Poppy. Words cant describe what I feel when I look at them. Happiness, joy, tears, warmth swelling inside me until I might burst.
Yet, neither my mum nor my sister came to the hospital when I was discharged. Even my husbands relatives ignored the birth of our childrenall because of our age.
Honestly, I never thought much about having children when I was younger. I was carefreeclubbing, dancing, living for the moment. What more could a young woman want? Cocktails, admirers, nights out. My heart sang with joy.
Then, at 22, I met Ethan. Handsome, with a beard and glasses, and his jokes made me laugh. Women flocked to him, but he chose *me*. I wont lieit gave my ego a boost. He had a flat, a car, a family business. His parents owned several clothing shops in London, making good money.
I thought Id found my Prince Charmingmy ticket to a perfect life. I dreamed of a fairytale wedding, a beautiful dress, a honeymoon in Spain.
But to Ethan, it was never serious. I lived in his flat for just a month before he changed the locks and threw my things outwhile I was at the salon getting my nails done! His only explanation? *”Were from different worlds. Youre not the one for me.”* As if I were nothing more than a mismatched shoe!
The breakup wrecked me. I lost two stone, looked like a ghost. My hair fell out; I wore wigs or hats. My health sufferedthe rapid weight loss affected my fertility. I had surgery, took medicine, even tried herbal remedies. Nothing worked.
So, I focused on my career. Id always loved nail art, so I trained as a manicurist. Thankfully, clients came in droves, paying well. I took out a mortgage on a small two-bed flat, saved for a car, and at 33, opened my own beauty salon with a team of talented girls.
Then, two years ago, I met Daniel. He worked nearby and wandered into my salon one day to break a £20 note. Just like that, I fell in love again. We moved in together quickly, married, and of course, talked about children.
Nothing happened naturallywe were older now. So I took the plunge with IVF. I prayed every night, begging God to let me be a motherto be the best mum possible.
And He answered. I delivered two healthy babies; the birth was smooth.
*”Have you lost your mind? Having children at your age? Did you think this through?”* Mum hissed over the phone.
*”Good Lord, Ill be a grandmother soon, and youre having babies? Youre too old for this!”* my sister shrieked.
No one in our family supported us. At the hospital, only Daniel and a photographer waited for me. We took a few keepsake pictures and drove home.
The twins are a month old now. Neither Mum nor my sister will visit. They say Ive shamed themthat I had no business becoming a mother so late.
But is it wrong to want a family? Is that really such a sin?
