I was thrilled to give birth aged 45. But, as I waited for my body to recover, something surprising happened… By Caroline Babacan, 62
As I led a group of holidaymakers down the strip, I spotted him, surrounded as usual by a bevy of ladies.
‘Caroline, looking beautiful as always,’ he said, flashing me a charming smile.
‘Thank you Deniz,’ I said, smiling back.
I’d moved from my home in the UK to work as a party rep
in Turkey, and I loved every minute of it.
Deniz was also a rep, and we’d met months earlier.
Whenever I saw him, he was surrounded by beautiful young women. He’d hand out roses and direct them to the nearest club.
‘When will you finally let me take you out?’ Deniz asked.
I laughed. I was 43, and Deniz was 17 years my
junior.
But he’d been asking me out on a date every night for the past six months.
‘You’re too young for me,’ I said. ‘I want to settle down and have kids… you are a kid,’ I joked.
But weeks later, I was having coffee with my friend Daniel.
‘Oh, just let him take you out,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fun, I’ll even come with you if you want.’
I figured I had nothing to lose. So, the next time Deniz asked me out, I said yes.
After meeting for a drink, we discovered that despite our age gap, we had lots in common.
We started dating, and a year into our relationship, when we’d moved in together, Deniz started talking about starting a family.
‘I’d love to have kids,’ Deniz said. ‘I’m more than ready to be a dad.’
As I looked into his eyes, I could tell he
was being serious.
So, we started trying for a baby.
Months later, I was doing the washing at home when my usual my washing detergent made me gag.
That’s odd, I thought.
Then I had sudden realisation, my period
was late.
I rushed to the pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test.
Back home, with Deniz
at work, I couldn’t wait to
find out.
So, I ripped off the packaging and dashed to the loo. As I waited for the test to develop, I paced the living room.
Then, I looked down and saw two strong lines.
‘Oh my goodness!’ I shouted, jumping up and down.
I raced to the café where Deniz worked during off-peak season.
In Turkey, it was custom for tea houses to be a place for men to socialise.
So, instead of going inside, I rapped on the window, waving through the glass as men turned to stare!
Deniz spotted me and stepped outside.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, looking worried.
‘I’m pregnant!’
I shouted.
A huge smile spread across Deniz’s face. He lifted me into the air and swung me around.
I cried with joy.
'You're too young for me!'
My pregnancy progressed smoothly, and I was lucky not to suffer any morning sickness.
But due to my age and the baby measuring quite big, doctors suggested a Caesarean.
As summer rolled around, I took to the strip.
On the night before my scheduled Caesarean, I took 13 new reps out on a bar crawl to train them.
I even clambered on to the bar and danced.
‘It’s important to keep everyone in a good mood,’ I told my trainees.
I must have looked funny bopping to the thumping music with my big bump.
But it got everyone going!
Next morning, I grabbed my packed bag and headed to
the hospital.
The maternity ward was seen as a woman’s space, and Deniz wasn’t allowed inside with me.
So, my friend Yeliz had agreed to be my birthing partner.
‘I love you, I can’t wait to meet our little one,’ Deniz said.
‘I love you too, I can’t wait to be parents,’ I said, kissing him goodbye.
As I was wheeled down to the operating theatre, I took a deep breath.
I had the Caesarean under general anaesthetic, as that was the custom in Turkey.
When I came round
to the sound of beeping machines and bright hospital lights, Yeliz was by my side.
In her arms, she held a tiny bundle.
‘She’s here,’ Yeliz said.
‘Can I hold her? Is she OK?’
I asked, tears streaming down
my face.
‘Of course! She’s perfect,’ Yeliz said.
As she placed my baby into my arms, I saw a mop of brown hair and long dark eyelashes.
‘Has Deniz seen her?’ I asked.
Yeliz nodded and explained that after my baby was born, she’d been allowed to bundle her up and rush downstairs to introduce her to Deniz.
We named our baby girl Yildiz, after Deniz’s older sister who’d passed away.
Back home, we quickly got into the swing of parenthood.
There were many sleepless night and endless nappy changes, but we couldn’t have been happier.
When Yildiz was
just weeks old, Deniz proposed to me.
We held a small marriage ceremony.
'You might want to sit down'
‘You can hold hands you know,’ the registrar said, ‘and hopefully more later.’
Suddenly, it dawned on me, having spent one intimate night together since the birth, I hadn’t had a period.
Later, I told Deniz and we decided to book an appointment with the doctor to check everything was OK.
He wanted to do an ultrasound to check everything was as it should be.
As he rubbed cold jelly over my tummy, I held my breath.
He got to work, but then, he turned to Deniz.
‘You might want to sit down for this,’ he said.
Deniz and I exchanged a worried glance.
‘See that black blob there?’ the doctor said, pointing at the screen. ‘Caroline, you’re pregnant!’
I got such a shock, I swore.
At age 46, and just six weeks after I’d given birth, I was pregnant again.
But once the news sank in, we were thrilled that our little girl would have a sibling.
At a later scan, we discovered that I was carrying another baby girl.
But this time, I wanted Deniz by my side during the birth.
So, we decided to return to the UK until after our baby
was born.
In time, I gave birth by Caesarean.
As our daughter came happily into the world, my eyes filled with tears. We called her Yeliz, after my friend who was at the birth with me the first time.
‘Hello, my love,’ I said, as she was placed into my arms.
Sharing the moment of her birth with Deniz felt so special.
Later, I got chatting to one of the midwives, who was amazed my babies were born just 10 months apart.
‘They’re just like twins,’ she said.
A year later, we returned
to Turkey and the chaos of caring for two baby girls.
It was hard work, but so much fun.
When my period didn’t return, there was a moment where we thought, uh-oh, here we go again!
But a doctor confirmed that I’d entered the menopause.
It felt like fate that I’d fallen pregnant for a second time so soon after giving birth.
Doctors even said I was incredibly lucky to be able to naturally conceive a baby at ages 45 and 46.
He even joked, ‘There’s more chance of winning the lottery!’
In time, my family moved to the UK, and we set up home in Bournemouth, Dorset.
As years passed, Deniz and I grew apart. We separated but remained a tight knit family.
Now, Yildiz and Yeliz are 18 and 17. They are different characters but they are extremely close and share a unique bond.
I might be in my 60s, but with their teenage friends round the house all the time, my girls are keeping me young!
• Deniz’s name has been changed.