Two weeks after our oldest daughter's first birthday, the eight EPTs I took and the doctor's blood test said I was pregnant. I called the doctor right away. We worked out a plan, and my husband and I saw a genetic counselor and got the Amnio as soon as possible. I think it was late summer or early fall of 1997 when we got the phone call from our genetic counselor. She happily announced "You're having a girl!" I smiled and wondered what was next because her voice didn't sound like she was done. "Tonia, I need to let you know the new baby does have salt-wasting CAH, just like Abby." The rest of the conversation was a blur. I left my office, promptly cried and asked my boss if I could go home. When my husband got home from work with our one-year-old, he found a blubbering mess. I told him the news. We were both overcome with emotion. Not because we thought there was anything wrong with Abigail ("father's joy") but because we had been so overwhelmed with the care she took—the worrying, the doctor and ER visits, and the financial strain. How would we do it with two! After we put Abby to bed, we prayed and prayed—hard—together. The months went by and finally Gabriella ("gift from God") was born. She was beautiful—a shining light! Things were tough at first. Many times we would be at the hospital with two children. But we noticed something as the girls got older: their bond with each other. They seemed at an early age and even at eight and ten to develop their own secret way of communicating and supporting each other. In July of 1999, Ellie woke us at 4 am with a gurgling cry. Her temperature was 106.7, she was convulsing and threw up on herself. Brett called our (volunteer) fire department and they told us it would be 10 to 15 minutes before they could get to us and could not administer any medications or IVs. I injected Ellie with Solu-Cortef and drove her to the hospital myself, knowing I could get there sooner. Ellie was admitted immediately into the PICU and it was determined she had an ear infection that had spread to her blood stream (septic) and was resistant to everything but the strongest antibiotic available at that time— vancomycin. On her second day in the hospital, I was awakened by the nurse very early. She said, "Your husband is in the ER…" I was trying to wake and figure out why he would be there! Then she finished her sentence, "Abby has a very high fever and is vomiting profusely. I can stay here with Ellie if you want to go down." I went down and there was my Abby, looking just like Ellie did two days before. They made an exception in the PICU and put the two together in the room. It turned out, after testing everything under the sun, that there was nothing diagnostically wrong with Abby! The endocrinologist had a theory that the stress of her sister being in the hospital and their connection with each other, sent Abby into a full blown crisis. I was glad to hear she was okay. They eventually downgraded the girls and kept them together in a room (even though Abby was fine) and they were discharged together. It did wonders for Ellie's well being. This is one of many similar stories, but the one that stands out in my mind the most. When the girls get blood draws, they hold hands and do rock, scissors, paper to see who will go first. When one is sick, the other takes a quiet place to pray. When one needs an injection, the other is getting a popsicle and holding her hand with encouraging words. I look back to when Brett and I thought we couldn't do it, and realize God gave us the gift of two because He knew not only could we but they could. My friends ask me all the time if they fight and drive me nuts. For the most part, they don't. They continue to have a bond that is unexplainable to most. And I realize that when I was questioning, I was given a gift and a blessing in disguise!  | 
