Morgan Lapczynski stifled a sob. The traumatic labor and delivery had left her newborn son, Harrison, lifeless. “Oh, God,” a voice screamed inside Morgan’s brain, “He isn’t breathing.” A nurse began CPR. “Breathe, Harrison. Breathe,” Morgan whispered as the terrible scene played out before her. It was as if she were on the outside looking in. All she could do was watch from a distance. This was the child she’d prayed for — the one she and her husband, Jake, had begged God for. Everything was happening quickly — too quickly.
The last nine months had been filled with ups and downs. Even before they knew the in vitro fertilization had succeeded — and long before the news of something being wrong with his aortic valve — they had already chosen to trust God. So in that moment, as the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) staff continued to perform life-saving measures on “Harry,” Morgan was comforted knowing she and Jake weren’t the only ones watching out for their much-awaited son.
“Out of an abundance of caution, the decision was made to have the NICU team present in the delivery room when Harry was born,” Morgan recalled. “Otherwise, we expected no difficulties. We believed they were simply there as a precaution because of his heart. Little did we know just how much we needed them, or how clearly we would see that God already had His hand over every detail of Harry’s delivery. What felt like a precaution at the time would soon become one of the many ways God had already gone before us.”
It wasn’t long before Harry was stable enough to be transported from Ascension Saint Thomas Rutherford Hospital in Murfreesboro to Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt, where he would spend the next three weeks in the NICU. While there, Harry received physical therapy, occupational therapy, feeding and swallowing therapy, and sensory support.
“Harry and I experienced a nine-minute shoulder dystocia during his birth, resulting in significant traumatic injuries for both of us,” Morgan recalled. “Harry’s left humerus was fractured. He sustained a brachial plexus injury affecting his right arm, and he suffered a traumatic brain injury involving his cerebellum.”
The Lapczynskis made the gut-wrenching decision for Jake to leave with their son, but it wasn’t long before Morgan checked herself out of the hospital and followed them to Vanderbilt.
“I went straight to Nashville to be by my baby’s side. At that time, there were still so many unknowns, and doctors could not tell us whether Harry would survive the injuries he had sustained during birth,” Morgan said. “Postpartum is hard for every mother, but with Harry, that season looked very different than anything I had imagined. It constantly felt like we were taking three steps backward for every one step forward. As a mother, you spend your entire pregnancy nurturing and protecting your baby and dreaming of the moment you finally get to hold them in your arms. Instead, the experience I had waited and prayed for felt like it had been taken from me.”
While Harry was in the NICU, his parents weren’t allowed to hold or even touch Harry. “I couldn’t feed him, change his diaper, or comfort him the way a mother naturally longs to comfort her baby. At times, I could barely recognize him beneath the tubes, wraps, bruising, and swelling. I had just given birth to my son, yet I couldn’t simply be his mama in the ways I had imagined for nine months. I stood beside him, prayed over him, and watched him fight. I learned that sometimes nurturing and protecting your child means loving them fiercely from the other side of a NICU bed.”
Today, Morgan is still watching 5-year-old Harry from a distance. But instead of him being across the delivery room or in the NICU, she watched as he rode his Tennessee walking horse (TWH), Queen, and won the Reserve World Grand Championship in the Lead Line Ponies class at the 2026 Tennessee Walking Horse National Celebration (TWHNC). Harry’s love of Tennessee walking horses had just begun the year before, during the TWHNC in 2025.
“This time, something was different,” Morgan recalled. “Harrison became completely captivated by everything happening around him. From seats near the entrance gate, he watched every horse make its grand entrance into the arena. He listened closely to the announcer. He focused on the organ music, and he eagerly turned to the jumbotron to watch each replay. From that moment, he was hooked.”
In 2024, Harry was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder, so when something grabs his attention — like the TWH breed — he grabs the reins with both hands and holds on tightly.
“After that night, Harry’s love for the TWH only grew stronger. We took him to every horse show we could, and each time he watched with complete focus, taking in every sound, every movement, and every part of the experience,” Morgan said. “Being from Shelbyville, TWHs are such a special part of our town’s history. They’re strong, hardworking, resilient, and absolutely beautiful. In many ways, those same words describe our boy.”
Harrison began training with Jerry Williams from J&J Stables, and Amanda Manis led him as he competed during the 2026 TWHNC.
So far, Harry has earned the titles of Reserve Champion in Cornersville, Tennessee; Champion at the Belfast Lions Club; Reserve Champion at the Money Tree Classic; and Champion at the Heart of a Champion competition at Cooper Steel Arena.
“The horses have brought Harrison joy,” Morgan said. “But for us, the greatest gift has been the transformation we have witnessed. His confidence has grown, and his communication skills have blossomed. His willingness to engage with others has improved beyond what we once imagined. Areas where he once struggled have steadily become stronger. While Harrison still works harder than many of his peers, most people never realize how much he has overcome already.”
What does Harrison have to say about TWHs? “They’re pretty. Let’s ride!” GN
