Wow the days really did go by didn’t they? I’m sure you haven’t been waiting with bated breath for the next update but for the sake of completeness you should probably have it.

The small one arrived, healthy, although slightly earlier than planned, last year. The big one has proved, so far, to be an exemplary older sibling. Being a second time mother to a newborn wasn’t easy, but it definitely wasn’t the abject misery that it was first time around. I don’t think we had a “better” baby, but I think we were definitely better parents. We were prepared, we knew — sort of — what we were doing. We had the big one as living proof that things get better, easier, funnier, more enjoyable.

And so there we have it, I’m a mother of two. There were times when I never thought I’d be able to say that I was a mother, let alone a mother of two. But here we are. That thing that B said to me all those years ago about there being many ways to be a family and that we would find the right one for us turned out to be absolutely right.

When I started on this road, more than 10 years ago, single and freezing my eggs, I could never have imagined that this was where I would end up. And of course it’s not an end, it’s — again — a beginning. I was just about to write that I would never forget everything it took to have my children. But that’s not true, I’ve already forgotten so much of it. Recently I had reason to look at some of the old posts on this blog and to dig back through some of the emails I exchanged with various clinics, and I’d forgotten so much. The minutiae of it anyway. It’s not surprising I suppose. There is only space in my brain for so much and the minutiae of daily life with two small children and a job has displaced the minutiae of trying to get pregnant.

I suppose what I meant is that the way in which my children were conceived, the donor to whom I literally I owe their lives, the science that went into their creation, the medical professionals, and everything else that went into them will always be a part of their story, my story, our lives. But unlike the way that, for much of this blog, it has been the focus, it’s now the background.

I don’t obsess about it, I’m much more open than I was in the past about how I had my children – and I’ve been surprised by how many other mothers with donor-conceived children I’ve encountered as a result. And when I glance up at the split screen monitor that shows them each asleep in their individual cots in their individual rooms but both in exactly the same position (if only fleetingly) I remember that they’re fraternal twins born two years apart – eggs that were collected, fertilised and frozen on the same day. Luck of the draw that the big one was defrosted before the small one…

But then maybe all siblings – IVF or otherwise are like this. To a certain extent this wondering is inevitably going to be a part of being their mother. Wondering whether traits are nature or nurture, wondering if the donor met them whether she’d recognise herself in them. But while these thoughts form a part of my experience of being their mother – like that ever present noisescape of your house that even when it’s quiet is never really quiet – they’re less important than the fact that I’m just a mother of two. (And I’m all too aware of the luxury and privilege of being able to say that.)

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I started this blog to document experiences that seemed extraordinary and exceptional in the true meaning of those words. I wanted people who hadn’t gone down the conventional route of having children to know that they weren’t alone. But now my experiences – largely – aren’t extraordinary or exceptional. They’re the banal normality of every parent. And so – for now – this is where this blog ends.

Never say never, obviously. Maybe in the future there will be exceptional and extraordinary situations I want to write about. Maybe I’ll be back in 16 years time when my oldest wants to meet the donor or has done a DNA test and tracked down a half sibling. But for now, I think I’ve told the story I wanted to tell. Thank you for reading, for supporting, for encouraging, for sharing your stories and being a part of ours.