Twin pregnancies are still quite uncommon, despite a 72% increase in likelihood between 1980 and 2018. Twins are born in about 33 of every 1,000 births.
What are the probabilities of having identical twins? Out of 1,000 births, three to four are identical twins on average. So once more, not very common.
Savannah Combs, age 23, was overjoyed to learn she was expecting twins. She then discovered that they both have Down syndrome, which is also unusual.
Of course, the information was upsetting. Savannah and her husband Justin Ackerman were aware that due of her illness and the state of her children, some people would judge them.
But Savannah finds that to be the same thing that makes them so beautiful.
“It’s very rare what they have, but they’ve been my little gems,” she mentioned.
Savannah, a Middleburg, Florida native, posted videos of her postpartum journey on TikTok with her kids Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, and the videos immediately acquired popularity.
Savannah said in one of her videos that she was advised to abort her children because they wouldn’t survive.
She made the choice to keep them and give them a shot.
”Every [prenatal] appointment they were alive was a blessing to me,” Savannah explained.
Her spouse was gone at boot camp when she found out they both had Down syndrome.
When Savannah was admitted to the hospital, she was 29 weeks along with her pregnancy and gave birth to twin daughters. Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, identical twin daughters, were born on May 12, 2021.
The twins had to spend a few weeks in the NICU before going home because they were born two months early.
“They’re called mono di twins, meaning that they had their own sacs, but they shared the same placenta, meaning that they were going to be identical,” she said.
“Mo di twins as it is, it’s like very rare. And then you throw Down syndrome on top of it, it’s like one in 2 million.”
They are just like any other youngster, according to Savannah, despite having an uncommon disease.
“They have feelings. They have a beating heart. They know how to talk. They know how to do things you do. They will get there,” she said.
“Like I said, it may be a step behind but they’re going to do it. I’ve learned these kids are feisty little things and happy little things.”Savannah posts wonderful updates on TikTok as each youngster continues to reach their milestones.
“I’m going to let them know that they’re just like us and they’re going to get there as long as they put their minds to it.”
Nevertheless, some people feel compelled to be critical of Savannah and her family. The young mother was forced to respond to some extremely cruel people on social media as a result.
”I wouldn’t want those babies; if mine came out like that, they would be straight up for adoption,” one person wrote to the mother.
Savannah, though, had the ideal response, which she posted on Facebook.
“I said, good thing they weren’t born to you and were born to me. God knew what he was doing by giving these babies to the right parents who would love them regardless.”
I Found a Girl Alone on a Dark Road – What I Saw When I Got Closer Will Haunt You
Driving alone on a foggy night, a mother sees a young girl in a torn dress, quiet and strangely familiar. As she drives closer, she notices the girl’s sad eyes, filled with secrets that might be best left unknown.
It was late, and the night seemed darker than ever. The fog hugged the car like a thick blanket, hiding everything beyond the headlights. I squinted ahead, holding the steering wheel tighter than usual.
“Just get home,” I whispered, rubbing my tired eyes. It had been a long day at work, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.
I always avoided this road. I usually took the main highway, but tonight, I thought: A quick shortcut will save time.
Then, I noticed something in the distance. A shadow in the middle of the road. I slammed on the brakes, heart pounding. The outline was faint, but it was there in the mist.
“Please just be a tree or a mailbox,” I whispered, though I knew it wasn’t. As I drove closer, I realized it was a girl. She looked thin, and her white dress was in tatters.
A chill ran down my spine. Every instinct told me to turn back, but something held me there.
I cracked open the window, my voice shaky. “Are you okay?”
I stepped out of the car with a flashlight. The beam lit up her face, and I gasped, stumbling back. I knew that face. The pale skin, the wide eyes—it was my daughter.
“Emily?” I whispered, barely believing it. She looked at me, eyes empty and wide.
“Mommy?” Her voice was faint, like a distant echo.
Shock and relief overwhelmed me. It was Emily, my daughter who’d been missing for five years. She had vanished without a trace, and no one knew what had happened to her.
“Emily, oh my God… it’s you,” I stammered, stepping closer. “Are you hurt? Where have you been?”
She blinked slowly, her expression blank. “I… don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice was soft, like she hadn’t spoken in years.
I knelt in front of her, heart racing. “It’s okay, honey. It’s me. We’re going home now, alright?” I wrapped my coat around her thin shoulders and led her to the car. She sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out into the fog.
The drive home was quiet. I glanced over at her, but her face was blank, as if she were somewhere far away.
“Emily,” I asked gently, “do you remember anything? Anything at all?”
She didn’t look at me. “A room. It was dark. There was a man, but I can’t remember his face.”
My throat tightened. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. We’re going home.”
When we got home, she sat on the couch, looking around as if everything was unfamiliar. I asked if she remembered the place, but she only shrugged. Her voice was flat and empty.
“Mom,” she whispered, “I’m… cold.”
I wrapped a blanket around her, feeling her icy skin. The days that followed were tense. Emily was distant, barely speaking. The only time I heard her voice clearly was when she sang an old lullaby I used to sing to her. It felt strange because she shouldn’t have remembered it.
One day, I found her looking at old photo albums. Her fingers traced a picture of her father, Mark. He had died when she was a baby.
“Mom?” she said, confused. “I know him.”
I felt a chill. “That’s your dad, honey. I’ve told you about him.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, I know him from… the place.”
A cold wave of fear washed over me. Emily couldn’t remember Mark, but she knew someone who looked like him. It had to be his brother, Jake. They looked so alike, almost like twins.
I couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore. I needed answers.
The next morning, I drove to our old family cabin deep in the woods. It had been abandoned for years, but something felt off when I arrived. One of the windows was covered with a cloth. Why would someone do that?
I pushed the door open, dust swirling in the air. Everything was untouched except for a small room in the back. Inside, toys lay scattered, worn but well-loved. My heart sank. This was where Emily had been kept.
I called the police immediately. Hours later, Emily sat quietly with me as the officers searched the cabin. She clutched her blanket, looking small and sad.
“Mommy… I remember now,” she whispered. “It was Uncle Jake. He looked like Daddy, but different. He would bring food and hum that song.”
The police confirmed it that night. They found enough evidence to arrest Jake. He confessed, saying he had taken Emily to “protect” her, wanting her to rely on him. It was twisted and horrifying to realize he had been so close all this time.
When Emily heard the truth, she broke down, crying out the pain she had held inside for so long. I hugged her tightly, rocking her gently. “You’re safe now,” I whispered. “No one will take you away again.”
In the days that followed, Emily started to open up more. She would hum the lullaby at night, as if testing if it was safe to sing it again.
One evening, we sat together by the window. She leaned against me, and I softly hummed the lullaby like I used to. She looked up at me with a hint of peace in her eyes.
“I love you, Mommy,” she whispered.
Tears filled my eyes as I held her close. “I love you too, sweetheart. Forever.”
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