A Rare Pair

Nineteen-year-old conjoined twins from South Jersey, who thrive as brothers and best friends, give their first-ever interview.

June 19, 2011|By Gloria Hochman, For The Inquirer
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  • At left, teacher Meg Kubiak (left) buys pretzels and fruit from Tyler and Stefan Delp at Cape May Special Services, a school for students with special needs where they spend their afternoons. They are mainstreamed every morning at Lower Cape May Regional High School.
  • At left, teacher Meg Kubiak (left) buys pretzels and fruit from Tyler and Stefan Delp at Cape May Special Services, a school for students with special needs where they spend their afternoons. They are mainstreamed every morning at Lower Cape May Regional High School.
  • The Delps decided against risky surgery to separate their sons. "This is the most dangerous thing you can do surgically," one prominent surgeon said.
  • Tyler (left) and Stefan Delp do well academically and are musically gifted. (SHARON GEKOSKI-KIMMEL…)
  • Tyler (left) and Stefan Delp do well academically and are musically gifted. (SHARON GEKOSKI-KIMMEL…)

Brothers Stefan and Tyler Delp have spent every second of their lives together. They go to the same schools, play the violin in tandem, and recently sang a duet, "Put Your Arms Around Someone," at their school's spring hop. But the boys have never seen each other's faces except for some sleight of hand with mirrors or computers.

The boys, born at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital 19 years ago, are a rare set of identical twins, joined at the head so one faces forward while the other is turned backward. When they walk down the hall at the public high school where they take morning classes, one moves ahead; the other steps in reverse.

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If Stefan sees someone on his left and waves, the boys pirouette so Tyler can see him also. "The best thing about having a brother with whom I'm conjoined is that I always have a best friend to talk to," Tyler says.

"Tyler is my best friend," echoes Stefan. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The other students don't even notice the twins anymore. They are just part of the crowd.

Tim Delp and Nancy Hoffman-Delp, who live in South Jersey, were 26, married four years, and thrilled at the prospect of becoming parents. At 14 weeks into an uneventful pregnancy, they eagerly kept an appointment for a routine ultrasound.

"I could tell right away something was wrong," Tim Delp said. "No one said anything, but the look on the tech's face was one of shock and bewilderment." Two days later, Hoffman-Delp answered an urgent call from her doctor's office. She and her husband were to come in immediately. It was an anxious several hours until the doctor delivered the stunning news: "You are having conjoined twins."

The next day they met George Davis, a perinatologist who specializes in high-risk pregnancies. Every couple of years, he encounters a case like this one. "Dr. Davis, this kind, gentle man, told us that he thought our babies shared facial features - maybe their cheekbones," Hoffman-Delp said. "He said the fatality rate was high - in the neighborhood of 95 percent - and it might be in our best interest to think about terminating the pregnancy."

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