Mom of rare twins with Down syndrome shuts down critics with photo showing how beautiful they are

While the chances of giving birth to twins increased 72 percent between 1980 and 2018, it’s still pretty rare. About 33 out of every 1,000 births are twins.

And what are the chances of identical twins? Approximately every three or four births out of every 1,000 are identical twins. So again, relatively rare.

When 23-year-old Savannah Combs found out she was pregnant with twins, she was thrilled. And then she learned another rarity, they both had Down syndrome.

Of course, it was emotional news. Savannah and her husband, Justin Ackerman, knew that some people would judge her and her babies because of their condition.

But to Savannah, that’s what makes them incredibly precious.

“It’s very rare what they have, but they’ve been my little gems,” she told News4JAX.

Savannah, who is from Middleburg, Florida, shared her post-pregnancy journey with her daughters Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, on TikTok where they quickly gained a following.

In one of her videos, Savannah said she was told to abort her babies because they would not make it.

She decided to keep them and give them a fighting chance.

”Every [prenatal] appointment they were alive was a blessing to me,” Savannah explained.

When she learned they both had Down syndrome, her husband was away at boot camp.

Savannah was 29 weeks pregnant when she was admitted to the hospital, and delivered her daughters. The identical twin girls, Kennadi Rue and Mckenli Ackerman, were born on May 12, 2021.

The twins arrived two months before their due date, so they had to spend several weeks in the NICU before they came home.

They’re called mono di twins, meaning that they had their own sacs, but they shared the same placenta, meaning that they were going to be identical,” she said.

“Mo di twins as it is, it’s like very rare. And then you throw Down syndrome on top of it, it’s like one in 2 million.”

Despite their rare condition, Savannah said they are just like any other child.

“They have feelings. They have a beating heart. They know how to talk. They know how to do things you do. They will get there,” she said.

“Like I said, it may be a step behind but they’re going to do it. I’ve learned these kids are feisty little things and happy little things.”

MY HUSBAND GOT ANOTHER WOMAN PREGNANT WHILE I WAS ON A BUSINESS TRIP – MY REVENGE MADE HIM SOB.

The sterile scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor had become the soundtrack of my life. My three-year-old son, Leo, lay frail in the hospital bed, his small body battling a relentless illness. And while I navigated the labyrinth of medical jargon and the agonizing uncertainty of Leo’s condition, my husband, Jacob, was betraying me.

A business trip, he’d called it. A chance to network, to secure a better future for our family. Little did I know, the “networking” involved his colleague, Jessie, and a betrayal that would shatter my world.

Jessie’s message arrived like a poisoned arrow, delivered through the cold, impersonal medium of a text message. “Jacob and I… we’re expecting.”

The words blurred before my eyes, the world tilting on its axis. Leo’s illness, the stress, the exhaustion – it all paled in comparison to the searing pain of betrayal. Jacob, the man I had loved for eight years, the father of my sick child, had abandoned us for another woman.

He packed his bags, his movements devoid of remorse. His parting words, callous and cruel, echoed in my ears: “I don’t regret anything. I’m fed up with you and this little burden.”

He left, leaving me to pick up the pieces, to face Leo’s illness alone, to navigate the wreckage of our shattered life.

But amidst the devastation, a flicker of resolve ignited within me. Jacob wouldn’t get away with this. He wouldn’t escape the consequences of his actions. He needed to learn a lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson.

I waited, patiently, for the initial storm to subside. I focused on Leo, on his recovery, on rebuilding a life for us, a life without Jacob. I buried my anger, nurturing it, shaping it into a weapon.

Months later, when the dust had settled, I reached out to Jacob. I invited him over, suggesting we discuss the terms of our separation, the logistics of parental rights. He arrived, his demeanor smug, his eyes filled with a self-satisfied gleam. He thought he had won. He thought he had escaped unscathed.

We sat at the kitchen table, the same table where we had shared countless meals, countless memories. I spoke calmly, rationally, discussing the legalities, the practicalities. He nodded along, his eyes never leaving mine, a predatory glint in their depths.

He left that day, beaming, convinced he had secured a favorable outcome. He thought he had manipulated me, played me for a fool.

But the real game was just beginning.

A week later, I filed a lawsuit against Jacob. Not for alimony, not for child support, but for full custody of Leo. And I didn’t stop there. I included a detailed account of his infidelity, his abandonment of a sick child, his callous disregard for our family. I attached Jessie’s text message, the one that had shattered my world, as evidence.

The lawsuit landed on his doorstep like a thunderbolt. He called me, his voice trembling, his bravado shattered.

“What is this?” he demanded, his voice laced with panic.

“It’s a lawsuit, Jacob,” I replied, my voice cool. “For full custody of Leo.”

“You can’t do this!” he sputtered. “I’m his father!”

“You abandoned him, Jacob,” I said, my voice flat. “You abandoned us both. You forfeited your right to be a father.”

“But… but Jessie,” he stammered. “We’re having a baby.”

“Congratulations,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Perhaps you’ll learn from your mistakes this time.”

The lawsuit was a public humiliation. It was splashed across local news websites, gossip columns, and social media. Jacob’s reputation, his career, his new relationship – all were tarnished.

He tried to fight back, to discredit me, to paint me as a vindictive ex-wife. But the evidence was irrefutable. His actions spoke louder than any words.

The court granted me full custody of Leo. Jacob was granted supervised visitation rights, a stark reminder of his betrayal. He was ordered to pay child support, a financial burden that would haunt him for years to come.

He sobbed in the courtroom, his tears a pathetic display of remorse. But it was too late. He had made his choices, and now he had to live with the consequences.

Leo, thankfully, made a full recovery. We rebuilt our lives, stronger, more resilient. We found a community of support, a network of friends who embraced us, who helped us heal.

Jacob, on the other hand, was left with nothing but regret. He had traded a loving family for a fleeting affair, a moment of selfish gratification. He had learned his lesson, a harsh, unforgettable lesson. And I, in turn, had found my strength, my voice, my revenge.

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