My parents froze in the kitchen, my mother’s oven-mitted hands halted in midair. We all turned to Penny, who was nursing her one allotted glass of wine—her colleagues from the clinic had assured her that a little bit was fine—and beaming.

“I’m having twins,” she said in a stage whisper. “Two girls!”

There was delirious excitement all around, and Jon, who of course already knew, gamely endured an onslaught of good-natured jokes about him being outnumbered.

Penny produced a sonogram pic and we marveled at the sight of the two tiny beings cuddled into one another. Suddenly, I got tears in my eyes: the realness of seeing their little bodies in the picture. My nieces! I threw my arms around my sister.

“Emma and Abby,” she whispered.

“Their names?”

She nodded, her eyes welling up now too. “Ugh, hormones,” she said, laughing. “Oops!” She looked startled. “One of them is kicking! Oof, little girl, I think you’re going to be an athlete like your auntie.”

Penny took her hand in mine and laid it gently on the bulge of her stomach. And to this day, I swear to you, I felt that baby kick.

I was in St. Moritz for the FIS World Championships six weeks later when we got the call. In anticipation of this being my big season, my parents had decided to take some time off from work and follow me on the final leg of the tour. It was a huge trip for them; they didn’t take extravagant vacations and had been saving up for it. I was having an early breakfast with them in their room at the Grand Hotel des Bains when the phone rang. In my memory, the moment slows and every tiny detail crystalizes: my mom picking at a flakey pastry from the room service tray, my dad’s unkempt bedhead, the fact that no one was alarmed when the phone rang. I thought it must be one of my coaches calling, so I picked it up. It took me a moment to realize that I was hearing the terrified voice of my sister. A dizzying array of facts came next. Penny had gone into labor, but it was far too early, so they were doing everything they could to keep the babies where they were. Jon was out of town on a job—wrapping up a final project in Arizona—and he was on his way back. Penny also mentioned the terrifying complication of preeclampsia—meaning her life, as well as those of the babies—could very well be at risk. Emily had taken her to the hospital and was there with her now.

I went directly back to my room and began packing in a mad fury. Luke and Blair appeared at the doorway, ready to head to the base together; their downhill race was that afternoon.

“Hey,” Luke said, alarmed at my tornado of movements, “whoa, what’s going on?”