Natasha, 27, from the Sunshine Coast shares her true life story:
Pushing my dinner plate to the side, I stood up, excused myself and rushed to the bathroom.
I felt sick to my stomach.
It was Mother’s Day and my two half-sisters Maranda, eight, and Leteisha, five, and I had made a big fuss over our mum, Tanya.
But I had other things on my mind that night.
I was 15 and had been in a relationship with a guy for the past year.
But we hadn’t been very careful in the bedroom and I was worried I might be pregnant.
So that morning I’d bought a pregnancy test but had put off taking it in case the result ruined Mum’s day.
I’d writhed uncomfortably through dinner and now, as I crouched over the toilet bowl, I knew I had to find out.
When the test came back positive, my whole body tingled with fear and nerves.
What would Mum say?
Eventually, I summoned the courage to go back downstairs.
Mum was alone in the lounge room.
Being pregnant at 15 wasn’t exactly in my plan…
“Where have you been hiding?” she joked.
I felt as if I was about to jump off a cliff.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” I smiled nervously. “I’m… pregnant.”
The colour drained from her face.
She was speechless, just as I’d been minutes before.
For the rest of the night we ignored my big news as though I hadn’t said it.
But the next day, Mum took me aside for a talk.
“You’re only 15, Natasha,” she said.
“What are you going to do?”
I’d just started my first full-time job at a clothes store and didn’t want to throw everything away.
But when I thought about the loving home I’d grown up in, I knew that family was what meant most to me.
“I want to have this baby,” I answered.
She listened calmly as I assured her I’d be okay and that my boyfriend and I could make it work.
Not everyone in my wider family was so supportive, though, and a couple told me in no uncertain terms that I should have an abortion.
When I was younger, Mum and I had lived with my grandparents.
When I told Pop the news, he was so disappointed he refused to speak to me.
It stung me because I’d always looked at him as my father figure.
Although Nan still gave me a hug and kiss when I saw her, I could see in her eyes that she was upset, too.
…but I wanted to be a good mum.
I felt lucky to have a mum I could confide in and trust.
Although she was 34, it felt like we were sisters more than anything.
We did everything together.
But becoming a mum myself was a lot to get my head around.
My other mates were planning their big birthday parties, but from now on my baby had to come first.
Friends soon stopped calling when I could no longer go out with them because I got terrible morning sickness.
Funnily enough, Mum started vomiting, too, and complaining of back aches.
“It must be my sympathy for you!” she joked, flopping down on the couch.
She put it down to early menopause or the stress of helping care for Nan, who’d spent years battling breast cancer.
I was so glad she had a boyfriend because Mum always put everyone else first and deserved to be happy.
But one day, she approached me looking completely stunned.
“I’m pregnant, too,” she stammered in disbelief.
Wrapping my arms around her, I noticed she seemed sad.
“Why so glum?” I asked. “This means my bub’s going to have a twin!”
Mum was worried she wouldn’t be able to support me fully through my pregnancy.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her.
From then on, Mum and I went baby shopping together and joined each other for our various appointments and scans.
I learnt that I was having a boy, and Mum’s was a girl.
Soon, our house looked more like a nursery.
I couldn’t have been happier.
Mum and I have always been like sisters.
She also insisted I make the most of life before the bub.
One night a few days before my due date she told my partner and me to go out for dinner.
“Do it while you can,” she smiled. “You won’t have much time when the little lad’s here.”
We spent the whole night talking and laughing.
We’d both got over the shock and couldn’t wait to be parents.
Next morning, I woke with a start.
My waters had broken.
Mum rushed me straight to hospital, where I gave birth to Ozker.
Three months later, we returned there and Mum welcomed her daughter, Karcha, into the world.
Each afternoon, we packed the pram and headed to the beach so the bubs could enjoy some fresh air.
“You’re a great mum, Tash,” she told me.
But I’d learnt everything I knew from her.
Over the next couple of years we watched our babies grow.
Our home was far from quiet, but full of love, and Ozker and Karcha were soon best mates.
On top of that, Nan had just reached the five-year remission stage of her cancer, which was a huge load off Mum’s mind.
Our babies, Karcha and Ozker
By now, Mum and I were both single, but we were happy giving our kids the best lives possible.
Then, one day, the phone rang.
I watched Mum freeze to the spot as she listened to the voice on the other end before turning to me, tears streaking down her face.
For a few moments, she couldn’t speak.
“I’ve got bad news, Tash,” she said.
Her next words shocked me to the core.
Everything had changed.
Grab next week’s issue of Take 5 magazine to see what changed for Natasha…
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