Now, almost seven years have passed since that fragile moment when their lives were placed in the hands of brave surgeons. Time has brought progress, hope, setbacks, and challenges. Sadly, both girls have been diagnosed with intellectual disabilities—an outcome many specialists feared, but one the family has learned to face with strength and love.

One of the sisters has managed to take only a few steps in her lifetime. She can barely walk and does not speak, expressing herself mostly through gestures, smiles, and sounds. The other sister is slightly stronger; she can stand on her own for moments at a time, but still cannot walk fully or independently. Their development has been slow, fragile, but never without hope.
You can see how the sisters look today by following the link in the comments.

Back in 2016, in a hospital in North Carolina, two little girls entered the world — Abby and Erin. They were twins, yet very different from the cheerful images that most people imagine when they think of twins. Abby and Erin were craniopagus twins, fused at the head, sharing parts of the skull and vessels. Cases so rare and so complex that even modern medicine often feels powerless before them. Still, these girls arrived breathing, fighting, and defying odds the moment they were born.

Their mother, Ann Delaney, had already known something was wrong early on. At just the 11th week of pregnancy, the doctors delivered the news no parent ever expects to hear. They recommended an abortion, warning her that the babies might not make it to birth, or that if they did survive, their lives would be filled with unimaginable complications. The term was short, but the road ahead was long, difficult, and filled with fear.
Yet Ann could not bring herself to end the pregnancy. She felt life within her, and she chose to hold on to hope.

At 27 weeks pregnant, Ann was hospitalized. Every day became a battle to prolong the pregnancy, to give the girls even a slightly better chance at survival. But by week 30, complications became too dangerous, and the doctors were forced to perform an emergency cesarean section. The girls arrived early, tiny and fragile, their bodies fused, their futures uncertain.

The doctors later explained that children like Abby and Erin have only a 2% chance of surviving birth and qualifying for a possible separation surgery. But against all expectations, the girls were part of that rare 2%. After months of careful observation, MRI scans, medical debates, and long nights for both the doctors and the family, a decision was finally made — the surgery would be attempted. The risks were enormous, with no guarantee that both girls would survive.

Ann signed the consent form with trembling hands. She knew that whatever the outcome, this was her chance to give each of her daughters a life of their own, a destiny that belonged to each of them separately and not as one shared existence.

On June 6, 2017, when the girls were nearly one year old, the operation began. It stretched over 11 intense hours. Erin was separated first — her anatomy allowed for a quicker and slightly less complicated procedure. Abby’s separation, however, required extraordinary precision. The surgeons had to navigate each millimeter of bone and blood vessel carefully, fighting for her life with every decision.
And in the end, both girls survived.

Five months later, Abby and Erin finally returned home. Their new chapter began — rehabilitation, therapy, slow progress, and countless small victories. Their mother learned how to care for each of them individually, helping them adapt to their new bodies, their new world, and their new challenges.

Seven years have now passed since that life-saving surgery. The girls have grown, laughed, struggled, and learned. Their intellectual disabilities have shaped their development, but they have not taken away their spirit. They do not speak, but they smile. They enjoy playing with other children, they respond to affection, and they radiate warmth in ways words could never capture.

Erin took her first steps at age five, a moment that filled the entire family with pride and tears. Abby, though still unable to walk on her own, can stand while holding her mother’s hands. Every day, she grows a little stronger, building the balance and courage she needs. The family believes that one day, slowly but surely, Abby will take her first independent step — a moment they have dreamed about since the day she was born.

Through all the challenges, the pain, the surgeries, and the uncertainty, one thing has remained constant: these girls are alive, they are loved, and they continue to defy the odds in their own quiet, beautiful way.