Raising Twin Boys in My Sixties

When our twin boys were born, I was 52 and Elaine was 46. We were older than most new parents — and we knew it. But we also knew we had love, life experience, and a good supply of patience (plus caffeine) to see us through.

Problems and Worry

Elaine’s pregnancy was one of the hardest experiences either of us has faced. She developed gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia, and the situation quickly became serious. I’ll never forget the day the consultant sat us down — just two days before Halloween — and said, very bluntly, “They have to come out now. We’ll do everything we can… but I need to be honest. There is a worst-case scenario — and it’s that you could lose them all.”

I felt like the floor dropped away.

But then Elaine — the bravest person I’ve ever known — nodded and prepared to go into theatre for an emergency C-section. She didn’t flinch. Not outwardly, anyway. She was so strong, so calm, and I’ve never admired anyone more than I did in that moment.

The emotions that day were overwhelming. The hours stretched. We lived in that strange space between total fear and unimaginable hope. Then — suddenly — there they were. Two tiny, precious boys. Our boys. The joy was instant and overpowering. It’s still hard to describe that moment, after so much waiting and worrying.

For support on this kind of journey, organisations like Twins Trust offer great advice and community for families of multiples.

For trusted medical guidance, the NHS offers this helpful resource on pregnancy and birth in women aged 40 or older.

Onwards and Upwards

The following weeks in neonatal intensive care were a blur. I practically moved into the hospital — surviving on vending machine coffee, adrenaline, and prayers. I watched machines beep and flash around our sons, and counted every tiny improvement like a lottery win.

Now the boys are 11 — strong, funny, endlessly curious, and occasionally maddening. They love scooters, castles, gaming, and getting mud on absolutely everything. People sometimes say, “Your grandchildren are lovely.” We smile. We probably do look like their grandparents — especially at 8 a.m. on a school morning. But no — we’re Mum and Dad. Just slightly creakier versions.

Living in the Moment as an Older Dad

There are times the age gap shows. Birthday parties used to be hard work, but now they want to chill with friends. And I definitely don’t bounce back like I used to after a sleepless night. But the boys don’t care. To them, I’m just Dad — the silly voice guy who makes great omelets, fixes scooters, and always wants to stop at castles.

We’ve started noticing that they’re realising something too. They see that we’re older than other parents. They ask quiet questions sometimes. “Will you be around when I’m a grown-up?” That’s hard. There’s no script for that kind of conversation. We tell them what’s true: that we love them more than anything, and we plan to be here for as long as we can. That’s why we say yes to holidays, go on adventures, and try to fill their lives with memories — not just routines. Every chance we get, we go. While we can.

Later-Life Parenting Comes With Surprises

Being an older parent isn’t always easy. I have to dig deeper. I take longer to recover from the chaos. But it’s also the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done. Every school play, cereal spill, and muddy walk is a reminder that life gave us something wild and wonderful — just later than expected.

And yes, we still love a family break — like our private caravan stay at Trecco Bay, which had plenty of space for chaos and quiet time alike.

Fabulous Fridays

Elaine and I now share Fridays off. Once the boys are off to school, we sneak a quiet breakfast, maybe a mountain walk if the Welsh weather behaves. Those moments are our reset. Because by 3:30, the whirlwind returns.

Recently, we stayed at Sandford Holiday Park — another chance to press pause and be present.

The Joy of Raising Twin Boys in My Sixties

Raising twin boys in my sixties is messy, noisy, and not without its aches and worries. But it’s also the best decision I never planned — and the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.

And when I need a moment of peace? Well… they don’t last long. But they’re sweeter for it.