Two babies, one heart: Couple prepares for conjoined twins

One heart. One perfect heart.

That's how Robin and Michael Hamby describe the condition of their conjoined twin sons, sharing one heart, one perfect heart, a ray of hope in a pregnancy where many may see only darkness and imperfections.

Medically, one heart, one perfect heart, means the twins won't be separated, but it also means they have a better chance of surviving than other conjoined twins with one heart because that organ usually is deficient in some way.

Emotionally, one heart, one perfect heart, means Robin and Michael intend to have sons as united in brotherhood as they are in marriage.

And spiritually, one heart, one perfect heart, means this Ladonia, Ala., couple was motivated by their faith instead of their fear when they decided to ignore the naysayers and bring these budding boys into this world.

So when families around the Chattahoochee Valley gather around their tables to give thanks on Thanksgiving, the 34-year-old Hambys expect to be on the verge of a delivery that some contend will be a burden but they insist will be a blessing.

Against the odds

Robin, a registered nurse at Regional Rehabilitation Hospital in Phenix City, and Michael, a hydrant valve technician for the Columbus Water Works, know the odds are overwhelmingly against a healthy ending to this journey. According to the Center for Fetal Diagnosis and Treatment at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, conjoined twins occur once in every 50,000 to 60,000 births -- and most are stillborn.

Statistics from the University of Maryland Medical Center are additionally daunting: 35 percent of conjoined twins survive only one day, the overall survival rate is between 5 percent and 25 percent, and female conjoined twins are three times more likely than males to be born alive.

The Hamby boys are connected, side by side, a category among the least common types of conjoined twins. They have one trunk but two separate heads. The technical term is dicephalic parapagus, although they won't be classified until they are born.

Doctors haven't determined all the organs and systems the Hamby twins share or have separately. With a total of two arms and two legs, each boy probably will control one arm and one leg, Robin said, so they will have to cooperate and coordinate. But they have two spines, she said, which will boost their stability.

Another miracle

This isn't the first improbable pregnancy for the Hambys. The faith and fortitude it took to create Selah, their healthy 19-month-old daughter, has emboldened their resolve.

They tried to conceive for seven years, including fertility treatments. A doctor told Robin she had only a 5 percent chance of getting pregnant without further intervention.

But such measures were too expensive. In 2012, the Hambys were two days from filing paperwork for training to become adoptive parents when Robin felt nauseous from the aroma at her favorite restaurant. So on a hunch and a prayer, she took an at-home pregnancy test, and her intuition was right.

"Children are a gift from God, and Selah was a miracle," Robin said. "It gives us more confidence in God for the twins."

Michael and Robin thought they were done having children. But two years later, this May, Robin again felt nauseous, this time while emptying a patient's catheter bag, which never had made her sick.

"I might be pregnant," she thought. "But that's crazy. We weren't trying at all."

Lo and behold, another at-home pregnancy test was positive.

'Two babies in there?'

Robin went to her doctor to confirm the pregnancy. She didn't know how far along she was, so she was given an ultrasound.

The technician told her she was eight weeks pregnant. As an RN, Robin knew enough to suspect the image on the screen wasn't normal.

She asked, "Are there two babies in there?"

The technician replied without hesitation, "Yes. I don't want to scare you, and I don't want to alarm you, but they're conjoined."

Robin began to cry.

"I was fearful for them," she recalled. "Being a nurse, I knew the statistics and the odds. I knew even if I got perfectly healthy babies, there could be surgeries in their future. As a mom, you don't want them to start off having pain."

Robin called Michael. He hadn't accompanied her because they thought this would be a routine appointment and he didn't want to unnecessarily use a sick day from work. She didn't want to tell him the news on the phone.

"I need you to get here quick," she told him.

When he arrived, Robin still was in the ultrasound room. Michael asked, "What's wrong? Did the Lord take our babies?"

Robin: "No. We're having twins."

Michael: "Yeah!"

Robin: "But they're conjoined."

Michael: "Well, OK. How are they conjoined?"

Robin handed Michael the ultrasound photo. At 8 weeks and 4 days, the two heads were visible but the rest of the image was unclear, and they hadn't seen the doctor yet, so the answer had to wait.

The husband and wife silently absorbed the impact of all that they knew and all that they didn't know about this suddenly complicated pregnancy.

Then they prayed.

Robin: "Give us the strength, Lord. We know You've not failed us. You're not going to leave us."

Michael: "I want these children to walk this earth. I want them to hear their mama's voice. Whatever You want, Lord, it's Your will. They're Yours. We'll take it like we can."

Robin told the technician, "Whether we get five minutes or five hours or five days or however many years with them, we're going to count it all as joy."

Challenges

Their joy was challenged the next day. They were referred to a maternal-fetal specialist, who cares for high-risk pregnancies.

"We didn't have a good experience," Michael said. "They were trying to push toward termination, but we're strong Christian people, and we don't believe in that. After telling them no, they started dealing out statistics and things of that nature. So we decided not to see them anymore."

Their midwife referred them to another maternal-fetal specialist, this one at Northside Hospital in Atlanta.

It's been worth the drive.

"They asked us if we want to terminate," Michael said. "We told them no, and that was it. Then we started talking about what we need to do for the babies, and that's the way it's been."

The pregnancy has progressed with healthy reports. They go to appointments in Atlanta and a local doctor on alternating weeks.

Now, 25 weeks pregnant, Robin doesn't have high blood pressure or gestational diabetes, which are common for women carrying twins. Some would be ordered on bed rest by now, but Robin continues to do her nursing shifts, although she probably will cut back next month.

Despite their precarious situation, Robin said, her doctor proclaimed the twins are as healthy as they could be at this stage.

The official due date is Christmas Day. Robin originally was told she probably would deliver between the 30th and 36th week. But at Monday's appointment, she was told the pregnancy was progressing well enough to stretch to 37 weeks, which technically is full term and longer than most twins. All of which targets her delivery for the first week of December.

The key, though, is to keep the twins in utero as long as possible without Robin going into labor, because they must be delivered by Caesarean section.

"That's the tricky part with this," Michael said.

Making their navigation smoother, Robin and Michael have found on a closed Facebook page a support group comprising about 75 couples who conceived conjoined twins. Some decided to abort, others didn't see their babies survive, but all can provide the Hambys information and insight they can't get anywhere else.

"We have people praying for us from as far away as India," Robin said.

In their research, the Hambys discovered the conjoined twins most closely resembling their sons' circumstances are thriving. Abigail and Brittany Hensel, 24, had a reality TV show on The Learning Channel in 2012 and now teach in a Minnesota elementary school. The significant difference: The Hensels have two hearts.

Preparation

Preparing their daughter for the brothers they hope to bring home also has helped Robin and Michael explain to adults what their sons will look like.

Robin's father and stepmother allowed Selah to pick out a male doll as a present, and they bought a duplicate. Michael cut off one arm and one leg from each and sewed them together, side by side, so Selah can understand how her brothers will be different from "regular babies," he said.

"I've had people stare at me, trying to figure me out," said Michael, who was born without Eustachian tubes (a tube that links the nasopharynx to the middle ear), lost 95 percent of his hearing and has cochlear implants sticking out from behind his ears. "I don't want her to live with that feeling. It's already going to be hard enough for her with us coming home with babies. She goes to day care and sees what other kids look like. I don't want her to be scared of her brothers."

Michael even made the outfit for the conjoined dolls. It was good practice for making real clothes for the boys, and Selah carries around the conjoined dolls to practice being a big sister.

As they discussed possible names for their twins, the Hambys figured the shorter the better to make it simpler for them to write their names.

"They're going to have to work together," Robin said. "Let's not make it any more difficult."

They chose Asa and Eli, both from the Bible. Asa, which means "healer" or "doctor" in Hebrew, was a king of Judah. Eli, which means "ascended" or "my God" in Hebrew, was a high priest of Israel.

Michael and Robin bestowed the names upon their sons in alphabetical order to make it easier for everyone to remember. So it's Asa on the left and Eli on the right.

During the 4-D imaging session July 19, the Hambys got a sneak peek of their sons' personalities. The video camera showed Asa rest his head on Eli, who was sucking his fist. Eli promptly took his fist out of his mouth and popped Asa in the face.

As the proud parents shared a good laugh, they witnessed a symbol of that one heart, that one perfect heart: Eli extended his hand toward Asa again, but this time he appeared to give his brother a loving caress.

Robin said, "It was almost like, 'Sorry, dude, I kind of got upset, but I didn't mean it.'"

Public reaction

When they disclose they are committed to having these conjoined twins, they said, the Hambys receive mostly positive reaction.

"A lot of guys I hardly talk to at work walk up to me and say they're praying for us and they really respect us for going this far with it," Michael said.

But after a pancake breakfast fundraiser last week at the Applebee's in Phenix City, a not-so-gentle man posted on Facebook that they should abort the conjoined twins because they would be a burden to society.

"I think he was trying to get a rise out of us," Michael said. "We just ignored him."

If he did answer the message, Michael said, he would have replied, "Me and my wife ain't the type of people that ask for help. To be quite honest with you, it's hard to accept a donation from someone who wants to help. So it's been a little humbling.

"A lady the other day, who I know lives on disability, gave us $20. To her, that was a chunk of cash. I know if I told her no, it would offend her so bad. The Lord puts people in place. We've been praying since day one that we needed help, and that was one of His ways of helping us."

Robin noted that Michael could be on disability because of his hearing loss, "but he chooses to be a productive member of society. So however our children are going to come out, we're going to make them as productive as they can be."

Closer together

The Hambys believe God selected them to parent these conjoined twins because they are prepared to provide the care Asa and Eli need.

"If I wasn't a nurse," Robin said, "I would be so scared of the medical 'ifs.'"

Michael related overcoming his hearing problems to defying the odds during this pregnancy, "I've been told all my life by doctors that there was nothing else they could do."

Going through such a crucible could pull a couple apart. The Hambys, however, say they have grown closer.

They have relied on each other's strengths: Robin's compassion and Michael's perseverance. They saw glimpses of those assets when they met 10 years ago.

Michael, a Smiths Station High School 1999 graduate, was an armed guard for the Federal Reserve. One of his regular stops was Circuit City in Columbus, where Robin, a 1998 graduate of the former Tri-County High School in Buena Vista, was the customer service manager.

Michael's buddy on the truck wanted to fix him up so they could double date. He mentioned Robin, so they circled back to the store after work.

Still in his uniform, Michael asked Robin for her number.

"She blew me off," Michael said with a laugh.

"It was a nice blowing off," Robin protested.

Undeterred, he messaged her on MySpace a few months later.

"My offer still stands," he wrote.

She relented,

"I was not very nice to this guy," Robin thought. "I had been heartbroken by somebody else. So if he's still nice enough to email me after I blew him off, he must be a really nice guy."

They went out for ice cream their first date and married two years later.

"When I first met Robin, I was living a deaf man's lifestyle," said Michael, who didn't wear cochlear implants then. "I was reading lips, so I had an ugly look on my face because I was trying to concentrate on what you were saying. But she saw past that."

She said she also saw he could handle adversity.

"He picked up the money from Circuit City for three years," Robin said, "but I never knew he couldn't hear until that first date."

Now, their faith in God is matched by their faith in each other.

"We're more sure that he's the man that's meant for this family and I'm the woman that's meant for this family," Robin said. "And these are the babies that are meant for this family."

Doubt

Although their faith stays strong, it has been shaken.

On the drive back from Atlanta after their first appointment with the specialist, Michael tried in vain to get Robin to express her feelings.

"Robin carries this nursing mentality," Michael said. "When you ask her what she thinks, she's going to give you the scientific approach to it. I don't want to hear that from her. I want the mama's side of it."

They stopped at a restaurant. In the parking lot, Robin let her guard down.

"We're supposed to be going in there and you got me crying like a crazy, hysterical woman," Robin told Michael through her tears. "I'm supposed to carry these babies full term, but I might not get to bring any babies home."

With their ultimate fear finally articulated, they talked for a few more minutes in the parking lot and recovered their perspective.

"I had to take myself back to the fact that I wasn't supposed to be able to have any babies," Robin said.

"That's the last time I asked her," Michael said. "I saw the rare side of her. Emotionally, she's a rock."

The next day, more perspective arrived. The message on Facebook must have been from a guardian angel. A friend of Robin's, whose daughter died last year, reminded her to not miss the joy that can be found every day.

"This has strengthened our walk with God," Robin said. "We've had to pray a whole lot. We've had to seek God more. When you do that, you only get better."

A few months later, the Hambys received what they consider another divine sign. On July 22, a neighbor sent them a photo of a rainbow that looks like it ends at their house -- directly above the room for the twins.

"Rainbows are God's promise," Robin said.

Spreading the word

Michael and Robin emphasized the media outlets they have shared their story with were contacted by their friends. They agreed to those interviews not to seek publicity nor money, they said, but to spread their faithful message and to inspire others, whether they also are expecting conjoined twins or face any other challenge.

"These are going to be God's miracle babies," Michael said, "and I want people to know about them."

The countless questions -- such as how their sons would walk and run and type and drive -- are mysteries to ponder another time. For now, they are focused on having a successful birth.

While their faith buoys their spirits, the Hambys remain realistic about the voyage and what they might find upon the shore.

"We've talked about all the possibilities," Robin said. "I'm not going to be in denial. God can choose to take any one of us any day at any time, but we're going to have faith that he's given us these babies as a blessing. The chance that they've made it this far is amazing. So we're already beating the odds."

Robin's nursing career and Michael's experiences as a former firefighter in Phenix City and Ladonia have steeled their stomachs, but the choices they are making during this pregnancy are based on their hearts, what they want to happen, not what they are afraid could happen.

"Hope is all you have sometimes," Robin said.

"I hope we're coming home with our boys," Michael said. "If all we get is a few moments out of this, then that's fine. Then "

Michael paused and put his hand on Robin's knee as they sat on their couch. She finished his sentence:

" Then we'll have eternity."

This story was originally published September 13, 2014 at 9:59 PM with the headline "Two babies, one heart: Couple prepares for conjoined twins."