Premature miracle twins turn 18

Palvasha and Farishta Normohamad, born four months early, meet the doctor who helped deliver them 18 years ago

Eighteen years ago, twin sisters were born four months early at a Scarborough hospital. They each weighed less than a kilogram, and each could fit into the palm of an adult’s hand.

In 1993, babies born so early had a five to 10 per cent chance of survival without defect. When the twins grew into strong babies, doctors called it a miracle, and the Star wrote about their unlikely survival.

On Monday, Palvasha and Farishta Normohamad turn 18.

Born without lung capacity or the ability to eat on their own, they have since learned to speak three languages, have lived in Afghanistan and Canada, and signed up for Facebook accounts.

On the eve of their birthday, they paid a visit to the doctor who delivered them.

As they walked into Dr. Tanya Williams’ office in Scarborough, the doctor, her hair now streaked with silver, took in the petite pair, each wearing a Hijab with the same brown eyes that 18 years ago looked so large on their tiny, not ready for this world bodies.

"Oh my gosh, you guys have grown up to be beautiful, beautiful,” Williams said, as the girls shyly presented photographs of their lives, with the old newspaper article taped to a pale pink piece of construction paper.

The twins looked at her in disbelief, this woman they have only known from a photograph.

"What was it like?” Palvasha asks.

"I was scared,” Williams said. “When you guys came out, it was miraculous. We were hoping for the best and praying.”

In November 1993, Williams was a new graduate with a two-month-old practice. She was on call at Scarborough Centenary Hospital (now Rouge Valley Centenary) when Maryam Normohamad walked through the doors, clearly in labour.

The Normohamads had moved to Canada from Afghanistan in 1987, and Maryam hardly spoke English.

With no time to transport Normohamad to a hospital that handled babies born so prematurely, the twins were born at Centenary. Pediatrician Dr. Dennis Gurwitz hooked the babies up to ventilators to escape brain damage. They were transferred to Sick Kids Hospital, where they grew by the ounce in an incubator.

Their parents nicknamed them after the mountains of Mecca. Palvasha became Safa, Farishta was Marwa. In March 1994, they were discharged from Centenary with a clean bill of health.

That was the last time Williams saw the girls — when a Star photographer was on hand to write the account of their survival. In the photo, Dr. Williams and Maryam Normohamad look on as Safa cried and Marwa stole the show with her big brown eyes, their tiny bodies dwarfed by seemingly gigantic diapers. (“My brother says: ‘You guys looked like aliens.’ He teases us,” Safa says.)

When she was a toddler, doctors discovered Marwa couldn’t hear as well as her sister. Now, she wears a hearing aid and has mastered American sign language. When the girls were in Grade 2, their family went to visit relatives in Afghanistan and stayed for almost six years.

In Kandahar, they were surrounded by family, and their father, who worked as a taxi driver in Scarborough, was able to build houses. One day, when Safa walked home from school she had one foot in the door of the family’s home when a bomb exploded. The windows shattered and nearby children were killed. In 2007, safety concerns became too much and the family returned to Canada.

"My mom said we were so special,” Marwa tells Williams quietly.

"That’s what we all thought in labour and delivery when you guys came — they’re ready to come, they want to be here, they’re fighting to be here,” Williams replied.

"My mother wished she could be here,” Safa said, reading from a note her mother dictated over the phone from Afghanistan, where she is visiting family. “She stated, 'How thankful I am for Dr. Williams helping me through a tough time. Dr. Williams gave me hope and assured me my babies would be all right, so my experience for having my two beautiful girls in the hospital for four months was an unforgettable experience.’ ”

One day, Marwa hopes to teach special education. Safa wants to be an elementary school teacher overseas.

In their 18 years, they have lived through war and peace, and played the hilarious game of nicky nacky nine doors. Big things, small things, existence in general, has been good for these two.