Miracle in My Living Room (Second Edition)

By Evelyn Mann

In this inspirational story of hope, a first-time mom is faced with unthinkable circumstances. This was

not the pregnancy any woman would have planned. This mom was forced to face the option of abortion

while medical professionals said her son would never survive a day outside the womb. There were many

harsh words u

• Language: English
• Publisher: CHANGE HER STORY INC
• Release date: Dec 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781951781101

Book preview

Foreword

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I met Evelyn, a friendly, joyful Christian, seventeen years ago. Then Ralph came into the picture, and I had the honor of marrying them. When Evelyn became pregnant the following year, they found out their child wasn’t normal. I remember talking to them, and what struck me and encouraged me was their faith in the Lord. They never considered abortion, but were confident God was in charge and would work everything out for good.

The early days after Samuel’s birth were extremely challenging. But with friends at their side, a church in full support, a great medical team, and faith-filled prayers, God came through time and time again. They knew that God kept little Samuel going and helped them be the parents they needed to be for this special child.

Ralph and Evelyn have been incredible—from the delivery room to the NICU to their home. Rarely have I seen such dedicated parents. There have been so many trials, difficulties, and seemingly impossible situations. And always, Evelyn has been there with Samuel and for Samuel. But what enabled and energized her to keep caring for her little boy? She knows Samuel is not only her son, but a wonderful gift from God. And she has more than a deep mother’s love for him. She has shown a supernatural, God-given devotion for this miraculous child.

Evelyn’s faithfulness, drive, and continued caring has amazed me. Some may say, Well, Samuel wasn’t normal. But he is normal to her, and by golly and by God’s grace, she takes care of him. Is she perfect? Has she never worried? You know the answers. She has had fears, emotion upheavals, and bad days, but she also has strong faith in a great God clearly seen in her prayers, her perseverance, her encouraging words, and a God-positive attitude, which I have witnessed so many times.

How has she sustained all this faith, love, joy, and endurance? Because she has an incredible husband. Because she has continued support from her church. Because people are praying. But most importantly, because she knows her God, a good, faithful, powerful, and sovereign God, who has been with her all the way. She knows that God has been behind the scenes, working, strengthening, protecting, and helping her be the mother she needs to be. And Evelyn will say amen to this, that it’s God who came through, God who blessed, and God who gets all the glory.

In these days, when there is less and less respect for life, when the weak, the needy, the disabled are too often neglected and disregarded, we need to be reminded all lives matter. God has a special purpose and plan for each life for each child. And it is our God-given duty to take care of them, to raise them up by the grace of God and for the glory of God. God truly cares for all children, and might we be the instruments God uses to care for the ones he gives us.

I hope reading Miracle In Our Living Room, will be a blessing. I hope it will encourage you to trust God and to be faithful to the children God puts in your life. And as you are faithful, you too will see the grace of God, the blessings of God, and the glory of God.

Pastor Steve Hogan

Hope Bible Church of Tampa

Acknowledgments

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The writing process is one I often equate to being pregnant, except that process only lasts nine months. These words represent four years of work. I extend my heartfelt thanks to those who helped me write and those who uplifted me in navigating an unthinkable circumstance.

I thank God for keeping my sweet boy full of life, for I couldn’t have kept him alive by my sheer will. If there were a button to press to fix everything, I would have pressed it when I first found out my son’s negative diagnosis. Instead, God has held my heart and my hand, giving me precious peace and proving, through my son’s life, that miracles still happen.

I thank my husband Ralph, for his dedication, love, and devotion not only for me but for our beautiful twenty-eight-pound wonder, Samuel, who changed our world. His ingenuity has earned him the title of Dad Guyver, which points to the countless ways he has made our son’s life better. I’m grateful for his extensive diary, from which I gleaned many details for this memoir.

I also thank the members of my Word Weavers group for faithfully offering feedback and encouragement. When I was ready to give up, your kind words uplifted me to write again. Special thanks to Jan Powell for her patience and time-sharing with me about the art and craft of writing and for editing the work you now hold in your hands.

I thank my pastor and our church for cheering us on from the sidelines. The times we received prayer for Samuel are too numerous to count. I’m thankful for the meals provided in the hospital, and after we brought Samuel home, prepared food was welcomed and appreciated. The love showered on us blessed us beyond measure. Special thanks to Charlotte Young, whose wise advice and listening ear was of great value.

And thank you to the Make-A-Wish Foundation, Lisa Andrews, Maria Mendivil, and Joe Pearl. Your heart for Samuel still touches me. Your selfless act of volunteering your time and talents to create a memorable wish has helped us in ways you couldn’t have known at the time. I will never forget what you did for us. I thank Lisa Andrews for continuing to include us in the Make-A-Wish family.

I offer gratitude to the medical community for all their dedication and devotion to my son, including the doctors, nurses, and supporting staff at St. Joseph’s Hospital NICU/PICU. I extend a special thanks to Dr. Cartaya, Dr. Solomon, Dr. Kriseman, Dr. Riggs, Dr. Sheridan, and Dr. Cressman. You will forever hold a special place in my heart for advocating for and believing in our little guy. Thank you, Dr. Hershberger, for coming alongside me to bring Samuel into the world.

As I reflect on our journey, I’m grateful for the amazing support of my former company, Progressive Insurance. My supervisors, Kerry Chalk and Nick Di Pasquale, and all my co-workers, many of whom donated vacation hours so I could stay by Samuel’s side, you have my heartfelt thanks. The insurance coverage received from my self-insured company met all my son’s medical needs, for which I am forever grateful.

I want to pay regards to Hector of Medicor—not only because he provided my son with all his home health equipment, but because of his unwavering belief in our son encouraged me. Hector was the first one to expect Samuel would come off his ventilator even before I believed it possible. I continue to appreciate Medicor’s care and concern for Samuel.

Anne Belloni, thank you for your faith in believing in our son even before he was born. You showed me what praying with faith looks like in real life. In the face of negative reports, your steadfastness buoyed my hope, helping me to believe for the impossible.

Special thanks to those closest to our little guy. Our family and friends have seen our mini-miracle defy the odds at every turn. Always ready with a listening ear, open arms, and many prayers, we have been truly blessed. Special thanks to my parents, Captain Ralf and Lucy Kraemer. My father bought the first edition of Miracle In My Living Room and held it dear. Though he is no longer here to hold the pages of this second edition of in his hands, I know he would be proud of this re-telling of his grandson’s miraculous story.

And finally, I would like to thank you, the reader, for taking the time to learn how a child with a lethal form of dwarfism became a miracle. My desire is for my son’s journey to not only inspire you, but also to encourage and give hope to others.

Chapter 1

The Test No One Wants to Take!

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I expected March 21, 2005, to be the third-best day of my life.

My wedding on July 3, 2004, was my first best day. Ralph and I met later than many couples through a website called Christian Café and invested two-and-a-half years in dating. We got to know each other and dreamed about our future while we explored the Tampa Bay area. The long wait for the right person was worth it.

His family had moved from Detroit, Michigan to Tampa, Florida, when he was a teenager. He completed his degree at the University of South Florida and established an engineering career. My family spent many years in Clear Lake near Houston, Texas. In my late teens, we moved to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, where I attended college part-time for my English degree. During the day, I worked in the hotel industry. Later, I switched to a position as an assistant to an adjuster in the insurance industry.

Then, at thirty-nine, I got engaged to forty-six-year-old Ralph Mann. Seven weeks later, we married in a small local church surrounded by 100 family and friends. I wore a corseted white wedding dress with straps and a sweetheart neckline. White orchids peeked from my auburn, braided updo. My dad, who spent years as a sea captain for privately-owned yachts, wore his full captain’s uniform to walk me down the aisle.

My parents, Ralph’s parents, and his grandmother looked on as we giggled when the marriage candle failed to light. The best man, Joe, brandished a lighter, dug out the wick, and with a practiced flick, solved the problem. When we watched the replay of our wedding ceremony video, we noticed the wavering candlelight snuff out after everyone left the sanctuary.

We spent a blissful honeymoon week in the Blue Ridge Mountains in the remote town of Almond, North Carolina, where our cabin overlooked the Nantahala River. At the bottom of the ridge, a single rail track transported a tourist train twice a day. We waved to the riders and enjoyed watching them wave back. Most of the time, we played backgammon on the porch and soaked in the outdoor Jacuzzi tub.

After we returned from our honeymoon, our first task was to find a home. Ralph’s best friend and business partner, Joe, let us stay with him while we conducted our search. We spent our weekends looking in the robust real estate market where many houses sold within a day of being listed. When Ralph found our perfect three-bedroom home, on a tree-lined street in an established north Tampa neighborhood, he told the owner we’d take it even before I had a chance to see it. I left work, eager to check out his find. To my delight, he had good taste, and we soon moved in to begin living in our own place.

With our late marriage, we were eager to start a family. Ralph came from a family of five siblings, and I had one brother. All of our siblings had children, and we planned to add a baby to the family tree. Despite serious health challenges for one of Ralph’s sisters’ firstborn son, we had no warning of trouble ahead of us.

My second best day was when I found out I was pregnant. The home test was hard to believe because I didn’t feel different, but my doctor confirmed the results. We were giddy to share our news, but instead of waiting the typical three months to get past the potential miscarriage stage, we only held off a few weeks. On the pretense of giving early Christmas presents, we asked both Ralph’s and my parents to our new home. Once they settled on the couch, we gave each one a small package that fit in the palm of their hands. They exchanged interested looks.

We shared a conspiratorial grin, and Ralph said, Please open your gifts at the same time.

They did, and laughter bubbled from all of them when the wrappers fell away to reveal baby booties. One set of pink booties for my parents and one set of blue booties for Ralph’s parents. Learning the gender would come later.

On that clear March day, a warm bay breeze slipped through the trees offering relief from the springtime heat. No clouds marred the blue sky to suggest that we’d leave the doctors’ office with any news other than the gender of our baby. On the way to our first sonogram appointment, we eagerly discussed if we’d be decorating the baby’s room in pink or blue.

While Ralph drove to Greenside Medical Services, I rubbed my belly, hoping for a girl. We traveled through the corridor of Tampa’s familiar downtown skyscrapers then across the bridge over Tampa Bay to Davis Islands and Dr. Warner’s office.

My first twenty weeks had been easy, with no morning sickness. Once I had a fever for three days, but that was all, nothing to indicate anything other than a normal pregnancy.

That day I wore a bright, flowered, extra-large shirt over my jeans. The combo hid my changing shape on my 5’1" pear-shaped frame.

Ralph had taken the morning off work to go with me; this long-awaited day was too important not to experience together. With uneventful months rolling along, our thoughts were filled with anticipation, without a trace of worry in our minds.

We parked and, full of hope, held hands entering the elevator. Although Dr. Warner’s office occupied a whole floor, only a few people waited in the reception area.

Excited and a tad nervous, I bubbled with comments to Ralph. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl? I kept talking without waiting for him to answer. My gaze skimmed across the nearly empty room and back to him. I want a girl. We can name her Tina Maria Mann. Don’t you think it has a nice ring?

I’m happy either way. Typical of his easygoing manner.

Soon a nurse called my name and escorted me to an exam room. After I donned the standard blue gown, she took me to join Ralph for the sonogram, where we’d see our child for the first time. He reached from his chair and squeezed my hand. Then he stood and helped me onto the exam table. I felt a thrill of nerves. Showtime.

The young, dark-haired female technician spread the cold gel on my ever-expanding belly and stroked the wand across my skin. She faced away from me to focus on the screen in front of her. The images in tones of gray baffled our untrained eyes. Without previous sonogram experience, we didn’t understand what to look for in the murky picture. Where was the head? How could we tell if the baby was a boy or a girl?

I hoped the technician would explain the images before us, but she remained silent.

After a few minutes, she made sounds we couldn’t understand. Spanish, maybe? I thought she’d tell us our child’s gender, but she didn’t utter a word. We later learned medical protocol required the doctor to share the bad news.

Still silent, she motioned for me to get dressed. Back in street clothes, a nurse directed me to join Ralph in the doctor’s office. I surveyed our surroundings. Two windows flanked the wall behind a large wooden desk. The closed wooden blinds only allowed a hint of sunlight into the otherwise dark room. Framed college degrees filled the wall space. The extended wait made me eager to see the doctor and hear the good news. However, the long delay should have alerted us that something was wrong.

When the doctor entered, he failed my confidence evaluation. A man of medium build, he had a mass of wild hair that looked like he had been trying to pull it out on each side. He sat in the brown leather chair behind the desk and repositioned his glasses before referring to the computer print-out in his hand. The good news, Mrs. Mann, is that you’re going to have a boy.

I looked at Ralph, who couldn’t hide his grin.

Then he focused on me. However, your child isn’t developing as expected.

I held my breath and balanced on the edge of my chair. Why was he only talking to me?

Did Ralph make him feel uncomfortable?

At six feet tall, Ralph might