It was Wednesday, Oct. 3, 2018, around 6:20. I was headed into church for choir practice when my phone rang. Matthew’s name popped up on the screen. Knowing my granddaughter was due in a couple of weeks, I was expecting an update. What I heard was a plea instead.

”Momma I need you.”

”Well, of course, when do you want me to come?” Still thinking that it was about helping with the baby after she was born.

”Now. Monica had our baby, but she’s in trouble.”

Strange there was no hesitation. I wasn’t thinking about driving all that way alone, or about preparations, just the sound in his voice. ”I’ll leave within an hour.”

But before I made an about-face I went into the sanctuary where the choir members were congregating. I went up to Darren, our director, and asked if I could say a word. I turned to my friends. I wasn’t able to give them any more information than what I knew and asked for prayer for my granddaughter.  Immediately the director led us in prayer.

I picked up Monica’s mom who lived 40 minutes north of Bakersfield. I was glad I didn’t have to drive by myself to Walnut Creek which is outside of Oakland. From Bakersfield, it would take six hours if we had light traffic.

It was a silent ride, not because of the situation of the baby, but because of a language barrier. I knew a few words in Spanish and Athlea could speak a little English, but the mutual love for our children spoke the loudest. I wish we could have consoled each other and the only Spanish I knew was Gloria a Dios, Glory to God. She smiled and nodded.

We reached the hospital in Walnut Creek at about midnight. We still didn’t have any details, and when we found out we’re devastated. It was considered a rare umbilical reversal flow. Evelyn was born practically bloodless. The placenta had reversed and drained the blood from the baby back into Monica.

The doctors immediately lowered Evelyn’s temperature to help reduce brain damage, but because they had already given her 2 blood transfusions, they expected she would have some. Before Athlea and I had arrived, Matt had to leave Monica alone in the hospital and escort his baby by ambulance to the Children’s Hospital in Oakland.

Monica’s mom stayed at the hospital with her daughter while Matt watched over his daughter at the Children’s Hospital. I went to my hotel, but of course, I had trouble sleeping so I spent that time praying. My shift with Evelyn would start early or rather later that morning.

Matt drove 40 minutes each way several times a day, either dropping me off or picking me up plus visiting with Monica. During that time I had sent out numerous texts for prayer. That little girl was being lifted up to God every hour.

When Van arrived on Saturday we laid our fingers on her little body and prayed over her. I knew God was healing her. I can’t tell you how I knew except for the peace the came over me.

The doctors would not release Monica until she met certain criteria since it had been an emergency C-section. She worked hard and within a couple of days, they allowed her to leave. One precious picture I have is Monica holding Evelyn for the first time. Tears were streaming down her face, but she had a beautiful smile. It reminded me the first time I saw Jeremy after he was born. He was born 5 weeks early and all I saw was the Doctors rushing him away. I knew how Monica was feeling.

I kept encouraging Matt and Monica that God was healing her. I told them that when God heals, He heals completely. God never does anything halfway. I’m sure at the time they thought it was wishful thinking on my part. But I had seen God answer several prayers in their lives, from them moving from the East coast to the West so they would be closer to family. All the little details involved in selling their house and finding a place to live several thousand miles away. Finding a doctor that would take her so late in her pregnancy. Having a job waiting for Matthew. That was a blessing in itself. He was on a 6 month probation period where they discouraged taking time off. Two months in he had to take 2-3 weeks off. They said not to worry his job was safe. These were direct answers to prayers lifted up from family and friends.

The neurologist had been preparing Matt with statistics on levels of brain damage. So to their surprise, but not to me, the scans, and brain wave reports showed everything was normal.  The doctors couldn’t believe that they were clear. Of course, they hadn’t considered a miracle – until now.

When a child is born with high-risk situations they do follow-ups every six months for the next 3 years. They would assess the child to see how they were developing and if there was a problem they would offer services.

As of her last appointment, in February, she has exceeded all her benchmarks including some that older children should be able to do. She is 1 1/2 years old now and keeping her mother busy. Matthew had one desire when they knew they were expecting a baby, was to have a child that was inquisitive and ask why about everything. He got what he desired. Evelyn is learning sign language, Spanish and English. She is very observant and continually amazes me. Today she wanted to handle the bubble maker by herself so her dog Rocket could eat the bubbles. She knew that when the bubbles stopped she needed to dip the bubbler in the soap. Every day I can’t wait to see what she is learning.

God heals completely!


2 Comments

Valerie Otis · April 26, 2020 at 2:52 pm

Beautiful story! Thanks for sharing.

    G.S. Chambers · April 27, 2020 at 8:28 pm

    Thank you for visiting my website. It’s tough knowing what to write about and how to get my thoughts out there. Of course my high interest is my books. Book 2’s proof will be here this week. I’ll go through it to see if any errors catch my eye. It’s interesting that this book has been edited up the wazoo and I probably will still find some errors. You just need to know when to leave ‘well enough alone’. On book 3 I’m up to chapter 15 in the editing. It is completely written except for those dreaded edits. But again I’m enjoying it.
    Thank you again for visiting.

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