Breana Dell heard one heartbeat at her ultrasound in November 2023, but there were two babies — conjoined twins — a medical phenomenon that occurs once in every 50,000 pregnancies. Connected at the heart and unable to be separated, Dell always knew her babies would not live long after birth. As she grieves for her babies and what could have been for her family, she’s found solace in an old friend — her paintbrush.
Dell met her husband Matthew in 2019 while working at the Chick-fil-A in LaGrange. They were both college students who worked the night shift, he as a supervisor and she in the kitchen.
“Matthew is very gentle, laid-back, and has a servant’s heart,” said Dell, 24. “I’d never experienced someone like him before.”
Swept up in a love that felt easy and meant to be, the couple got engaged less than a year later and married in May 2021. They were eager to become parents and left the timing up to fate. Their son, Dallas, arrived in October 2022.
“When he was born, we wanted to surround him with family and wide-open space,” said Dell. “We moved to Matthew’s family property in Gay, just south of Peachtree City. We live in a tiny apartment attached to a horse barn. Dallas sleeps in a closet because our space is so small. We’re still hoping to build a house; that’s always been the plan.”
It was Aug. 8, 2023, when Dell learned she was pregnant again. Her first pregnancy was typical, aside from having polyhydramnios, or extra fluid, and she was hoping to have a home birth this go-round.
When Dell was about seven weeks along, her midwife came to her house with a doppler and ultrasound machine. Dell hoped to use an ultrasound picture to share the news with friends and family. Despite seeing what Dell calls a “tiny butterbean” on the screen and hearing one healthy heartbeat, the midwife was unable to get a good image.
Dell learned her sister in Florida also was pregnant, and they decided to share a gender reveal party during the week of Thanksgiving.
On Nov. 16, Dell and her husband went to an ultrasound boutique to learn their baby’s gender, but instead received news that sent their world crashing down.
“Not only were there two babies, two baby girls, but they were conjoined,” said Dell, a lilt of shock still in her voice. “I was in complete disbelief.”
Dell called her midwife, who said she could not help her any further and suggested she go to Northside Hospital. The Dells heeded the advice and walked straight into the emergency room.
“Everyone was confused as to why I was there,” said Dell, who was 17 weeks pregnant at the time. “I wasn’t bleeding, or in pain, or in labor, but I told them I really needed help. I didn’t have a doctor.”
They were referred to an obstetrician who sat with them in early December and answered many of their questions. The doctor made it clear from the start that, because the girls were conjoined at the heart, there was little to no chance they could be separated and that they would not survive outside the womb.
“I said OK, but deep down I didn’t believe the doctors until my last appointment in January with the pediatric oncologist who performed a fetal echocardiogram and said the OB was correct, my girls could not be separated,” Dell said.
Conjoined twins are a spontaneous occurrence that is rare, but more common with girls. It is not likely that this would happen again in future pregnancies for Dell.
The young couple had a Zoom call with 10 doctors who agreed the babies should be delivered at 32 weeks. Delivering them then would not change the outcome for the girls but would be safer for Dell.
Credit: Courtesy of Breana Dell
Credit: Courtesy of Breana Dell
“I tried to prepare myself for delivery day,” Dell said. “I had conversations with doctors about all the possible scenarios. The doctors said the girls might live just minutes, maybe hours, or days. I was nervous and scared.”
Amelia and Elhora Dell were born Feb. 29 — rare babies born on the rarest day, Leap Day — at 7:37 a.m.
The girls never opened their eyes or cried, but they had a heartbeat. Their faces were not identical. Amelia looked much like big brother Dallas and Elhora’s nose was a bit squished from pressing against her sister in the womb. Both girls had dark hair like their mother.
They were connected from their chests to the top of their pelvises, otherwise perfect, said Dell. There were 20 tiny fingers and 20 tiny toes.
Dell was holding her babies when they died at 8:23 a.m.
“They were wrapped like a burrito in a hospital blanket, then, on top of that, a blanket I brought that was pink with white rainbows,” Dell said. “They weren’t in any pain, and they did not suffer. They just looked like they were asleep.”
Sadness has come in waves since losing the girls.
“It can be hard to see all the little babies,” Dell said. “At the same time, I see my sister’s baby boy who was born weeks apart from the girls and imagine what they’d be doing, and though it’s sometimes painful, I’m grateful for him and for the way he reminds me of my girls.”
Desperate to find an outlet for her grief, an idea struck her one evening.
“I turned to Matt and told him I need to paint,” said Dell, who took lots of art classes in college.
She purchased a watercolor kit and began posting her paintings, just for fun, on Instagram. She was encouraged when, after posting a painting of orange slices, someone asked if they could pay her for her art. Encouraged, she kept painting and created an Etsy shop called Petal & Paint.
“My sales have really taken off,” Dell said. “I even sent a painting to Napa, California. I can’t believe it. Painting is an outlet, a distraction, something that taps into my creative side and makes me happy.
“It’s helping me heal.”
Her most popular items are the bookmarks that feature birth month flowers. Two sample bookmarks on her Etsy page feature violets, February’s flower, one with the name Amelia, the other Elhora.
To contribute to the Dell family GoFundMe: Fundraiser by Dallas Dell : Support for Amelia and Elhora Dell’s Medical Needs (gofundme.com).
To shop Petal & Paint: www.etsy.com/shop/petalandpaintstudio/?etsrc=sdt
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