The Story of Today November 14th

To Tate: The Story of Today

November Fourteenth....this day will forever be significant in our hearts. On this day 4 years ago you passed away from this life to enter into your new life with our Lord. One of the things I fear the most is forgetting the details of your short life with us. I panic often when I can't remember something specifically....and I am heartbroken when I can't remember the sound of your cry. So, in effort to honor you today and to have the story of today forever written for myself.......today, I will tell your story of your last day with us.

You had to go back into the hospital for your second stage of the Norwood procedures because of the drop in your sat levels and your little fingers and toes were turning blue...which is a major sign of lack of circulation. We took you back into Cooks exactly two months to the day that we got to bring you home. I will post another time on what life was like at home for those two months (Thank You Lord).

I remember taking you in to prep for surgery. One of the nurses wanted to hold you to do a few things....as soon as you left my arms, you started crying loudly. She continued to hold you and after I realized there was not a reason for her to hold you, I insisted that she give you back.....I mean really.....they were about to take you into surgery and I wanted as much holding time as possible. So I got you back and you immediatly fell asleep in my arms. So peaceful.

The memory I have of giving you over to the nurses to take you back to surgery is such a bad one. I knew in my heart that I would never hold you again. I had an overwhelming feeling that you would not survive this next surgery. It was not a lack of faith.....I can't describe it, I just knew. As she took you out of my arms, you looked at me and started screaming for me and I wanted so much to grab you and run as fast as I could and get out of that place. To save you from what you were facing. But to do that would not have given you the chance that we wanted you to have. So, I let you go my son.....to never again hold you while you were sleeping, or calm you from crying, or see true life in your eyes. This moment still keeps me up at night many nights....I have to cry out to the Lord to take this away so I can rest.

We met with Dr. T after the surgery and he seemed to think things went really well. And they did. We were able to go back and see you and a few hours later you woke up a little and looked around. It is the last time we saw your sweet eyes open and the last time you responded to us.

That night, you made a turn for the worse. There was a step Dr. T. took in the surgery (I don't want to go into detail here) that ended up being what made you so sick. It was something he and we didn't realize would happen, but at the point he knew what to do, he opened you back up to fix it. It was too late. Your body had been flooded and re-routed in a way that you could not recover from. Of course, this wouldn't be known until a few days past.

Unfortunatly, you never got better after this surgery. In fact you continued to get worse and worse every day. There were many issues that this surgery brought up including your kidneys failing and having to put you on dialysis. They put you on dialysis in an effort to pull the fluid off of you that continued to collect all over your body. Your body swelled up to twice the size, which was super hard for us to watch happen again....thankfully, they kept you comfortable and in a sweet sleep the whole time.

I remember reading a sweet Bibles for Mom's and Boys that your Grandma gave to me when you were born. We read that whole thing (it was super thick) every single day. The nurses allowed me to do some things to help you like changing your diapers (which were dry since your kidneys were failing), wash your body, put lotion on you, do some PT and OT I was trained to do, brush your hair...etc. Which was super sweet, but again, I just wanted to grab you up and run away....for things to go back to the way they were for the 2 months at home.

Two weeks after your surgery, one of my favorite Doctors sat me down to make sure I knew that you were slowly dieing. It was such a shocking conversation. I mean, hadn't we been here before? And you recovered and we took you home. Not this time, she explained the reason the dialysis wasn't working and that three clots had formed in your heart that could kill you at any time. It was a hard reality to face. I just remember being so heartbroken and angry.

For the next two weeks, you did just that....you died slowly....your body shutting your systems down. On Nov. 14th Jody and I went to Church that morning to be lifted up before coming to spend the day with you. During Church we got the call that they were taking you to have another heart cath to see if there was anything they could do. We left Church immediatly, stopped to change clothes and were on our way.

We got to Cooks and rounded the corner to see your bed, fully expecting that you would be back from the heart cath. But, you were not. Instead we were met by Floyd (one of your fav. nurses and ours too) who took us to a private family room. He explained that you had been coding for 45 minutes and they couldn't get you back. He wanted to know if we wanted to go to the cath lab to see you. Of course we were in shock and waited for a few minutes. In this time, we prayed and we felt that we needed to have them stop all efforts.....with the lack of oxygen for 45 minutes or more, we knew brain damage could be significant. We knew you would never be our sweet Tate again. I left the room to find Floyd to tell him to stop. Jody joined me and we went with Floyd to the cath lab.

You came back. God's blessing for a sweet good-bye. We got to the lab and Dr. A. said, I don't know what ya'll did, but he is back. We knew it was a blessing. We kissed your head (You were not awake, just breathing with a heart beat) and had to leave so they could finish. On our way out Dr. T. showed us the clots in your heart and told us there was no hope for an operation to remove them. You would not survive another operation.

We left the lab,and went to share the news with our family and friends. You got to come back to the CVICU and we didn't leave your side. Your numbers and stats were not good at all and Ed told us that you soon would be coding again and they would need to start CPR again.

Honey, we knew, we knew that you had come back to let us say goodbye. We knew that this was your day to go back to God. It was so clear. The decision was so clear. Which is what we had prayed all along....that each decision would be clear. We told them we didn't want them to do anything any longer.....they knew it would be your time too.

We went out and shared with our families so they could come say goodbye...and they did. Then Jody and I sat with you. They let me hold you for the last time. I hadn't held you for the last month you had been in. The last time I held you was when I gave you over to them for surgery. It was so hard. You were still hooked up to everything and I begged in my heart and head that I could see your eyes one more time, but that didn't happen. You were too sick.

Quickly, your heartrate starting falling and all of your stats started going down. It would have been the time that they would have done CPR on you again, so we knew what was coming. Ed asked me if I wanted to hold you while you died....and sadly I couldn't. I needed you to be on your bed, comfortable. I didn't think I could live with the fact that you died in my arms. Something I regret now. We placed you back on the bed and they began to pull all you lines and oxygen off. The last machine was the one that was keeping you alive, keeping your heartbeat (5 beats per minute at this point) going. I remember placing my hand on your heart while they un-plugged you and I felt with my hand the last beat of your heart. And that was it. Off you went, back to God. I searched to be happy in that fact, but sorrow was so overwhelming.

Dad and I stayed with you for a little while and then went to go tell everyone waiting that you were gone. I remember walking into the waiting room with the people we love and the look of desperation on everyone's face. I simply said,"He's gone" and collapsed into someone ( I can't remember who) with hysterical sobing. I don't remember what transpired after that for a little time. I do remember pulling myself together enough to call Natalie....I for some reason, just had to tell her myself. She is the only person I called.

Ed had mentioned that they would work hard cleaning you up so we could come back in for a little while. We waited for what seemed like hours, (it wasn't) and then he came to get us.I was so overwhelmed I remember when he came to get us that he had previously asked for some clothes to put you in.....I had nothing but a white onesie that I thought would be too small. When Ed came to get us he said he had found something for you to wear and I remember saying, "He better look cute." I still find it odd that I said that. Where did that come from???? Crazy town I guess.

We all came in as a family to see you once again. Ed had put a cute dark blue jogging suit on you that was perfect. It had a football on the shirt and said "VICTORY" in huge letters. Yes, God, I got it. I saw that little message. One regret is that I didn't get that outfit. I don't know what happened to it, but I sure wish I had it. I would pay a LOT of money for it. I guess they took it off of you when they came to get your body.

At one point, one of your line spots started bleeding, I remember being heartbroken because I went to get a cotton swab and bandaid out of the chest that held all the things that I used to take care of you (it is the station chest) and it was gone. They had moved it out of the way, because you wouldn't need it anymore. Funny what hurts during a time like this. I remember being so hurt that that silly chest wasn't there for me to get a cotton swab out of. I wanted so much to still be able to take care of you. Ed came and helped take care of your little blood that was dripping. We stayed for a while and said our goodbyes, collected our things and left.

We left.

We left you there.

It still haunts me. It keeps me up at night sometimes that we had to leave you. The thoughts of what happened to your body after that are horrifying to me and I know the devil uses them to destroy me sometimes. I cry out to God to take those away and to send peace instead. I can't even fathom your sweet body that was once in my tummy, being in a stupid black body bag. No one should have to deal with these thoughts. I hate that.

On to better memories, some sweet women had gathered at your Ninny's house with food and drinks and provided us a place to all go as family and friends to be together for the rest of the evening. Your Daddy and I handled the dissapointment and sorrow rather well....due to pray cover I am certain.

That evening I remember going home and knowing that you would never come home with us again. That your room would never be your room again. That night I dreamt that I heard you crying, I jumped up and was out of my bedroom door before I could stop myself. Reality hit that I had gotten up to take care of you and you were not there. This would be something that happened for months and months after you passed away. Heartache each time.

What transpired over the next couple of days and your life celebration service are topics for another time. I will say no one should have to choose a casket for your baby. Even after you passed from this life, you continued to touch people....even in your life celebration service. Again, a topic for another day.

Sweet Tater Tot, oh how we miss you. It is hard to carry the loss of you around each day, but I know we are stronger for it. You will never be replaced and I am honored that God sent YOU to us. No-one else could have loved you more.

Missing you today .....and everyday.....and every second. I love you my sweet son.