- Deonna was six weeks pregnant when a scan revealed another sac with two babies in it
- A doctor revealed she’d experienced superfetation – an extremely rare occurrence which meant Deonna had fallen pregnant twice in one week
- Deonna was rushed to hospital and put on bed rest after her waters broke at 24 weeks
- Her triplets were born premature eight weeks later, but were thriving
- Deonna Fletcher, 26, shares her story below
With sore boobs and no sign of my period, I had no doubt that I was pregnant.
“You ready?” I said to my partner, Antonio, 26, unwrapping a test.
“Let’s do it,” he replied enthusiastically.
We’d only been trying for a couple of months, but, moments later, we watched two lines appear.
“I knew it, we’re having a baby!” I beamed.
An early scan confirmed the pregnancy was viable.
Read more: Our baby took 26 years to be delivered
But at six weeks, while at my job as a hairstylist, I grabbed my stomach in pain.
I’m having a miscarriage, I thought, panicking.
At hospital, Antonio held my hand as I was given another scan.
“The baby’s fine, but there’s another sac,” the doctor said. “With two babies in it.”
“So, there’s three?” I gasped in shock.
Antonio’s eyes widened while I burst into tears.
“How is that even possible?” I asked.
The doctor seemed as surprised as we were.
“This is extremely rare,” he said, unable to tell us any more than that.
Though we’d been trying for a baby, being outnumbered with three would mean we’d really have our hands full!
Back home, the news started to sink in.
“We can do this, can’t we?” I said to Antonio.
“Of course we can,” he assured me.
At our next appointment, we sat down with a doctor.
“You’ve experienced superfetation,” he said.
It meant I’d become pregnant twice in one week, with the first fraternal baby conceived six days before the other two.
It was so unusual, the chances of it happening were close to zero.
“You ovulated twice, but at two different times,” the doctor added.
Since I was a teenager, I’d had multiple periods each month, so it made sense how it could happen.
But our identical twins were at risk of developing Twin-to-Twin Transfusion syndrome, or TTTS, which could be fatal if one got too many nutrients and the other too little.
“It’s your choice whether to terminate or not,” the doctor said.
Antonio and I immediately shook our heads.
“We’re keeping them all,” I said.
Our family and friends were stunned by our news and loved watching my triplet bump grow.
At 18 weeks, Antonio came with me for a gender scan.
“What’s your guess?” he asked excitedly.
“Two boys and a girl,” I replied.
We didn’t find out until our gender reveal party.
“One, two, three!” Antonio counted. Then we popped two huge balloons.
Everyone cheered as pink confetti filled the air.
“Three girls!” I squealed.
We chose the names, Amani, Amber and Dream.
Feeling the babies kick became the best part of my day.
“Did you feel that one?” I smiled as Antonio touched my bump.
“Sure did,” he replied.
The pregnancy was going smoothly, with no sign of TTTS, and the babies were all sharing the amniotic fluid evenly.
One day, I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my sister.
“I can’t wait for your baby shower next week,” she said.
“Me neither,” I replied.
Then, as I stood up, I felt a gush between my legs.
“My waters have broken!” I cried. “It’s too early!”
I was a little over 24 weeks.
Antonio rushed home and took me straight to hospital.
Luckily, I still had plenty of fluid left.
Wanting to make sure the triplets stayed inside me for as long as possible, doctors put me on bed rest at the hospital.
Antonio helped me with my meals, got me out of bed and helped me shower. I couldn’t have done it without him.
Two weeks later, it was our two-year anniversary.
He helped me into a wheelchair and pushed me to the fifth floor balcony of the hospital.
To my surprise, there was a table for two overlooking the atrium, complete with champagne for him and beautiful flowers for me.
Antonio gave me a single red rose, then took my hand.
“Thank you for being my soul mate,” he said.
He produced a stunning pear-cut diamond ring and got down on one knee.
“Will you be my wife?” he asked with a grin.
“Yes!” I said, crying.
I’d been gutted to cancel my baby shower, but the proposal definitely made up for it.
In January 2021, at 32 weeks, I was wheeled into theatre for a C-section.
As soon as Amani, Amber and Dream were delivered, they were whisked off to the NICU to be monitored.
Hours later, I visited them.
Though premature, they were thriving.
“I can’t believe they were just in my belly,” I said.
My milk supply was enough to breastfeed all three girls.
One month later, we strapped the triplets into their car seats and took them home.
Antonio and I got them on the same schedule, and family helped out so I could get some sleep. We also put personalised ankle bracelets on them to tell them apart.
Time flew and before long, the girls were walking bundles of energy.
For their first birthday, we held a virtual party on YouTube and did a cake smash with some hilarious photos! Amber was not a fan.
Just before they turned two, we got another surprise.
I was pregnant again. Thankfully, it was just the one this time!
In October 2022, we welcomed a boy, Antonio Junior, or AJ.
The triplets fell in love with him, hugging him at every opportunity.
Now, Amani, Amber and Dream, are three, and like peas in a pod. AJ is never short of their attention.
When I first did that pregnancy test, I never dreamed I’d end up with three girls – and a boy, too!
Being a parent is the hardest job in the world.
Our children keep me on my toes, test my patience, and help me find the humour among the chaos.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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