It had taken me a long time to have my babies. Then they vanished. By Nataly Anderson, 50
As the figure beside me began to speak, I gazed into his big brown eyes and thought: This is music to my ears.
My new boyfriend Ivan had just told me he wanted to start a family and I found myself saying: ‘Yes, me too. That’s what I want.’
Ivan and I had met via a dating ad.
He was Croatian, intelligent and charming.
I’d been living in Croatia for a few years and had been considering moving back home to the UK, but now I could see myself staying and building a life with Ivan.
At the age of 37, I didn’t want to hang around so we started trying for a baby.
I fell pregnant but sadly I miscarried after eight weeks.
‘It’ll happen for us,’ Ivan said.
'I've made up my mind'
So we kept trying.
A year on, we tied the knot at a hotel on a gorgeous Croatian island, but the miscarriages kept on happening.
Eventually, we booked in for fertility treatment and, because of my age, we were advised to try IVF.
But then I missed a period.
I took a test and it was positive.
And at our scan, the sonographer looked at the screen in disbelief and said: ‘There’s two.’
Ivan held my hand as we looked at the two little shapes on the screen.
Twins, I thought.
It felt like a miracle.
Tests showed I had a condition called thrombophilia, a genetic tendency to blood clotting which could cause early pregnancy loss, and I had to inject myself daily with blood thinners.
I was terrified I’d lose the twins and Ivan was too.
One day, I was getting ready for a walk when he stopped me.
‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘You must rest.’
He wouldn’t let me do anything.
We discovered we were expecting twin boys but I didn’t dare think about what they’d be like until they were in my arms.
Then at 32 weeks, I went into labour but one of our babies had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and so I was taken into the operating theatre for a Caesarean.
When I woke up, I asked: ‘How are the boys?’
‘They’re doing well,’ a nurse told me.
We named them David and Luke and, after 11 days in hospital, we were able to take them home.
Life with twins was exhausting but I didn’t mind.
After all I’d been through to have them, I was grateful to wake up to their smiling little faces each day.
But when the boys were two, something happened.
I was made redundant.
We were already struggling and I wondered how we’d be able to give the twins the life they deserved so I applied for jobs in the UK.
Ivan was keen for us to move too and, soon after, I got a job near my parents in Woking, Surrey, so we could move in with them.
I flew over to start work and Ivan and the boys joined me a month later.
As the boys settled in with their doting grandparents, I felt the tension ease out of my shoulders.
‘Everything will be OK now,’ I said.
But Ivan was struggling.
Being on extended paternity leave, he was looking after the boys and, suddenly, he was short-tempered. Anything that happened was my fault.
‘Nataly works too hard here,’ he said to my mum. ‘We should go back to our easy life in Croatia.’
But life in Croatia had been anything but easy. We had no job security but in the UK we had my parents to help.
'But our home is here'
Ivan was a qualified lawyer so I encouraged him to find a job, or help fund a conversion course so he could practise law in the UK.
Then one day, I came home and Ivan was on the phone.
When he hung up, he told me he’d been talking to his old boss.
He said: ‘There’s talk about a promotion for me in Croatia.’
He was excited but I thought: The kids are happy here. We have family, we’re settled.
But as the weeks went on, Ivan seemed more and more unhappy.
Then one day, my phone pinged with a message from him.
As I read it, my heart sank like a stone.
I’ve made up my mind, it read. I need to go back to Croatia. You can stay here with the boys.
Desperate to keep my family together, I suggested marriage counselling, but Ivan said: ‘I just need a break.’
We decided he’d go to Croatia for a holiday with the boys.
For three weeks, they’d enjoy some sun and have a rest.
I hoped it would be just what Ivan needed to reset.
But the night before they were due to leave, he turned to me and asked: ‘Shall I take just their British passports or their Croatian ID cards too?’
His face was unreadable.
Staring into his eyes, I said: ‘I’m scared you’re not going to bring them back.’
‘That would be child abduction,’ he replied, holding my gaze. ‘I wouldn’t do that.'
Then he placed all the documents into his bag.
The following morning, I drove them to the airport.
At the gate, I pulled David and Luke in close and said: ‘Mummy will see you soon!’
They were only two and a half.
For the next three weeks, I focused on work, trying to fight the feeling that something was wrong.
I called Ivan every day, but struggled to speak with the boys on the phone.
Then a few days before they were due to fly home, Ivan texted me and my world fell apart.
He’d written: I’m not bringing them back.
As my head spun, my email started pinging.
It was Ivan telling me how life in Croatia would be better.
You’re a bad mother for working so much, he told me.
I tried to think clearly.
Had this been his plan all along? To use the boys to force me to move back to Croatia?
In a panic I called police but I was told it was a civil matter and I’d need a lawyer.
‘But our home is here,’ I begged Ivan over the phone.
But when it became clear I wasn’t willing to move, Ivan filed for custody behind my back.
Then he demanded child maintenance of over £1000 a month, well above the expected rate in Croatia.
I instructed a lawyer and had an agonising wait.
Six months later, the Croatian courts ordered the children should be returned to the UK under the Hague Convention.
But my elation quickly evaporated as lawyers told me: ‘It’s nearly impossible to enforce their return.’
And this gave Ivan time to file an appeal.
He won, keeping the kids in Croatia.
Ivan had turned into a man I didn’t know.
I began divorce proceedings but, desperate to see my boys, I decided to move back to Croatia anyway.
Seeing the boys again was wonderful but I realised Ivan would never let me bring them back so, four years after they’d left, I took drastic action and fled back to Woking with the boys.
But Ivan used the same Hague Convention rules to get them returned to Croatia.
At the contact centre, one of my boys screamed as he was given back to his dad.
Since then, whenever I can, I travel to see them, and so do my parents. Each time I see them, David and Luke are very emotional and so excited to see me.
I’ve tried everything to get them back. Last year, I even attempted to claim asylum for us all in Switzerland but Swiss courts ordered the boys back before it could happen.
David and Luke are 10 now and I haven’t seen them in six months. I’m now only able to see them in Croatia, under supervision of social services.
They tell me they miss me and they want to be home with me.
I’m campaigning to change the family court system in both the UK and Croatia. This isn’t fair on our children.
It was such a battle to bring them into the world, it breaks my heart to have them taken from me.
• To find out more about Nataly’s campaign, visit change.org and search ‘Nataly Anderson’.
* Ivan, David and Luke’s names have been changed.