Two toddlers who survived one of the rarest and most complex procedures in pediatric medicine were the center of a celebration Wednesday morning inside SSM Health Cardinal Glennon Hospital’s Danis Auditorium. But the most powerful moment of the morning wasn’t at the podium.
A few floors up, in a designated play area, Hiyab and Wuhbto — 2-year-old craniopagus twins born in northern Ethiopia and separated earlier this year — lay together on a pillow. When Kate Corbett—their primary caregiver in St. Louis— started singing, both girls lit up. They smiled, laughed and rocked to the rhythm of her voice. They looked around at the reporters and cameras that hovered above them with the wide-eyed curiosity of any toddlers.
It was the kind of everyday moment that had once been impossible.
Dr. Hassain Marandi, president of SSM Health Cardinal Glennon Children’s Hospital, opened the press conference by acknowledging the magnitude of what the girls had overcome.
“Today we celebrate the extraordinary milestone in the lives of two young girls,” he said. “This achievement reflects Cardinal Glennon’s commitment to providing highly specialized pediatric care for the most complex medical conditions.”
Chief Medical Officer Dr. Andrew White called the separation “a triumph for medicine.”
“Conjoined twins are exceptionally rare,” he said. “Craniopagus twins — joined at the head — are rarer still.”
Hiyab and Wuhbto were born facing opposite directions, sharing a network of veins that made separation extraordinarily dangerous. Their journey to St. Louis began with a phone call from a colleague working in northern Ethiopia. White immediately knew Cardinal Glennon had the expertise — and the responsibility — to help.
Their arrival in the United States required an international coalition. World Pediatrics coordinated travel, visas and logistics. Ethiopian Airlines removed six rows of seats to accommodate a special bed. Ronald McDonald House and Ranken Jordan Pediatric Bridge Hospital supported their care.
“When World Pediatrics was asked to help, we knew their journey would require more than connecting them with a hospital,” said board chair Linda Norman. “Even the most advanced medical care cannot change a child’s life if the child cannot reach that care.”
Dr. Joanna Kemp, head pediatric neurosurgeon, described the preparation.
“Our responsibility was to understand exactly how the twins were connected,” she said. “Months before entering the operating room, our teams were engaged in extensive imaging, simulations and multidisciplinary reviews.”
Six major procedures — and more than sixty caregivers — contributed to the final separation. Four surgeries were required to divide the shared veins. The brains were mostly separate, but small fused areas required careful navigation.
Dr. Kevin Chen led the reconstruction efforts. Three-dimensional imaging was one of several technological tools the team relied upon.
“In a case this rare, planning can make a meaningful difference,” he said. “The skull reconstruction was like a jigsaw puzzle — in the best way possible.”
The separation began with the twins lying on their sides on two operating beds. It ended at 2:31 a.m. after nearly 24 hours.
Wuhbto has already undergone her cranioplasty. Hiyab’s is scheduled for later this fall.
After surgery, the girls moved to Ranken Jordan Pediatric Bridge Hospital, where Dr. Nick Holekamp said they are making daily progress.
“They are beginning to take advantage of the miracle of the surgeries,” he said. “They’re learning to sit upright, eat, speak, socialize and play — including with each other.”
Before surgery, they could not see one another. Now they steal toys, refuse naps and interact like any toddlers.
“They are starting to do all the things toddlers are known to do,” Holekamp said. “Like refusing to take a nap and stealing each other’s toys. It’s remarkable.”
Their guardian, Abebe Fantahun — founder of Lola Children’s Home in Tigray — said the girls became family the moment they entered his care.
“My hope is that they will return home knowing how deeply they are loved — both in Ethiopia and in St. Louis,” he said.
Corbett, who also serves as senior program director for the U.S. region for World Pediatrics, said their personalities are already clear.
“Music is their love language,” she said. “Wuhbto is feisty and rambunctious. Hiyab welcomes you immediately — and her giggles are contagious.”
She described the moment they first saw each other after surgery.
“It was so beautiful,” she said.
The separation also created the opportunity for Corbett and others to form a deeper connection with the girls.
“As caregivers, what do you do when your little one is upset?” Corbett said. “You pick them up and you put them on your shoulder. And we weren’t able to do that. After surgery, we were able to draw them close, put them on our shoulders and love them as we would our own kids.”
The girls were quiet, though their eyes wandered as members of the media and the medical staff that made their separation possible observed them.
Corbett pointed out that their names mean “gift.”
And on Wednesday, surrounded by the people who fought for their future, they were exactly that.
“I hope St. Louis is a household name for these girls in Ethiopia,” she said. “I want them to know that they were loved — and how much faith and love their parents had to have to let their girls go into the loving arms of Abebe.”
Corbett also noted that about 30 families from their region of Ethiopia live in St. Louis, and several have helped care for the girls as they recover and stay connected to their homeland and native language.
“These girls are here because you chose to care,” Fantahun said. “Thank you for believing in them.”