So apparently there are far worse things that can happen in life than losing a child, said no one ever.

Excuse my frankness and also my french-but the only way I can adequately describe life right now is with a word called shitty.

I'm not going to even try to fake it like we've got it all together, because we totally don't. I changed the blog title mainly because I'm trying to remind myself that I'm not a walking pile of bones..because once I give in to that, the rest of this hell that is our life right now is probably going to hit the fan and then where would we be. So yes, we are more than surviving, and that's the banner we're flyin' around these parts until we can rest assured that it is true.

So, what now.

That's the question I've been finding myself asking a lot lately. I don't know who I'm asking..maybe God, maybe the air, maybe our cat who I've been spending a lot of time with lately as I'm basically confined to our apartment "until my incision heals" or some crap like that. Don't worry, I'm already off the pain meds (but it is unclear at this point if anyone will believe me after this post ends.)

Whenever I get up the nerve to answer my own "what now" questions I usually end up with stuff like, "stop holding your breath and keep breathing," or "eat some chocolate," or "wine--let's have some more wine."

But in terms of the long term, I don't know. I can't think past an hour, really. I'm praying all of the time and I do know that God is still carrying us. I'll admit that angry-yelling-type prayer has been had but I'm going to assume He's alright with it and that he's not going to stop healing me because of it..I'll get better at that sometime.

So anyways, for those of you who want to know how we're holding up...I've put together a list of ways in which we are..because there's no manual of how to do life after you lose your first child. I've looked. So here you go:


How we're doing it (more than surviving, that is):
1. Kissing. A lot a lot of kissing.
2. Crying. A lot of crying. Ugly crying, too. You know, like when a huge string of snot just sorta comes out and gets all over Chris but he still loves me anyway (I think.)
3. Actually believing Chris when he says that my belly WILL indeed get less and less squishy. Pregnancy, y'all. So crazy.
4. Eating really good food that our friends keep cooking for us.
5. Wine + Beer. Not at the same time, and no we aren't getting shwasted. Although I feel slightly entitled to, ya know, if I were that sort of person and under these circumstances. We're mostly not because (1) we're not sure what is appealing AT ALL about the feeling of being drunk, and (2) I hear it's a bad thing to consume a depressant while actually depressed. Not testin' that little guy out because who knows what in the WORLD I'd be writing up in here if I did.
6. Watching back to back to back episodes of random sitcoms on my ipad (namely Parenthood, which is surprisingly addicting and also good for tuning out my brain.) Remember that one time we were that couple without a TV. Still don't have one, but I'm basically cheating now since my dad got me this friggin' apple device. I'm like, one of them now, or something. Anyways, Parenthood is good because it will enable me to convince all of my brothers and parents to eventually live in the same town as us so that we can be all up in each other's lives and dinner parties and frequent sarcastic bantering sessions. If you've never watched the show you have no idea what I'm talking about, but it's basically my family except we're weirder and don't come with as much baggage.
7. Staying away from the public as to avoid seeing every and all babies and/or pregnant women. Sorry, folks. I'm workin' on this one.
8. Snuggling and not apologizing AT ALL ever for being obnoxiously clingy to Chris. Remember that time my love language was physical touch? Yeah, poor guy. I'm kidding. Touch ranks 2 out of 5 for Chris in the love languages department and it just so happens his number one is quality time--so I'm all, "Hey! Look! If our quality time is spent touching in some way, we both win, kthanks."  Plus I'm like super attractive these days with my slowly deflating belly and snottynosecrying syndrome and lack of ability to put any effort at all into "being cute" or whatever they call it so he's basically the luckiest guy ALIVE.
9. Laughing the HECK out of some mainstream music videos that we're just now getting around to seeing because we live under a rock but SURPRISE I have an ipad now! So, on that note, what the crap, Miley Cyrus. Please. If you haven't seen the new video, just don't. Good thing I love Disney too much to be upset that they have a habit of breading really awful artists. On another non-disney-related note, I really do like the way Mackelmore raps, and I also like to imagine that everything in all of his music videos is from Goodwill.
10. I don't know. I can never think of a number 10. It's like...this thing I have or something.

I do apologize for this absolutely non-eloquent post that has to follow Ellie's sweet birth story. This is my life right now. No filters. We miss Ellie so bad. We love Jesus so much. We are being stretched beyond belief and we are growing a lot........it's just all baby steps. We hope you won't ever have to use the above survival guide, but hey..it's there if ya need it. I highly recommend just repeating step 1 until you feel better, but with your own spouse, not mine.

Love,
Team Tate
(more than surviving)

There are really no words to do any of this situation justice. No words to describe how much we miss Ellie. No words to describe the difficulty of holding our Ellie as her heart stopped beating. I didn't want to wait too long to post simply because I don't want to forget any details, and I also want to honor those of you that have spent the past months (almost a half a year, actually) praying for our sweet girl and family.

I know I've said this before, but it truly does feel like we've walked through this as a large family--we have cried with so many friends and at times it felt like we were burdening the lives of nearly everyone around us with constant crappy news........but man, what a picture of community the way God intended for it to be. I could (and I'm sure I will) talk more about that in the future...there's just so much.

I woke up on Tuesday, the 18th, feeling sorta weird. I'm sure a lot of it was normal 38 week pregnancy weird, because I don't think there's such a thing as feeling physically "normal" at 38 weeks pregnant. So that aside, I started to leak a bit of my water, but it wasn't gushing out or anything..and I was losing a bit of my plug (for you squeamish people, this is as bad as it gets for this post.)

We decided to call our doctor just to talk with him and let him know what my body was doing. He happened to be out of town in NC, but he talked with us for a while and Chris began asking him one more time about what we should do (regarding our birth plan) as we had previously been throwing around the idea of the c-section "just in case" Ellie would survive. We knew the prognosis was poor, but we began to weigh the pros and cons........and as a mother I began to question whether or not my strong opposition to c-section was due to fear and the desire to better "control" future pregnancies (i.e. how a c-section might affect future deliveries, scarring, etc.)

I don't think there was a strong right or wrong decision here. We just wanted to be at peace either way. We really wanted a natural delivery, but we also wanted to set ourselves up for the most guilt-free scenario. I began feeling that if we had a natural delivery and she didn't make it..that I would have wondered if a c-section could have made a difference. Some of this was spiritual attack, and some of it was just longing to make a decision that would be conducive to healing and peace of mind and heart. The doctor spoke gently and very personally with us, stating that if we were his children..he would encourage the c-section just due to the state of her body and the potential stress of labor (on her) if we waited. He told us that he wanted us to make the decision and to feel good about it, but that if we wanted to go the c-section route we would really need to go in that day (due to labor possibly coming soon and just to optimize her chance of survival.)

We got off the phone, talked about it, and felt very much at peace (yet terrified) with the decision to go ahead and go in. We called him back and told him and then he set everything up for us via telephone to the hospital. I had already eaten lunch, so we had to schedule for more than 6 hours from the time I had eaten, which put us at about 8:30 for scheduling purposes. We packed up a little bit and did random stuff till it was time to leave...and it was sort of surreal from that point on.

Our lovely (understatement) friend, Sarah, came with us..as she was originally going to be coming with us to the birthing center from way back before we knew that Ellie had some health issues. When all of that unfolded, we felt that we still really needed her.......maybe even now more than before--just to be a rock and a prayer warrior and a super peaceful presence (if you know her...you know what I mean.) She headed over and we headed to the hospital.

As we got closer, a brilliant rainbow appeared (no joke) and we literally drove into it for the last..maybe 20 minutes of the trip. My mom texted Chris a picture of it from where she was (also driving to the hospital) and then Sarah called to ask us if we saw it..........I'm kind of glad both of these things happened so that we have proof, because Chris and I were in awe of how bright it was. Chris and I didn't talk about it before hand because we were both pretty nervous and contemplative in the car......but we both felt like we just kind of knew what was about to happen. And we both felt like God was just telling us, "Hey. I'm here. We're here with you." My words aren't doing this justice, but it was awesome.

We got in to the hospital and the poking and prodding began (as to be expected) and this was all kind of a blur. The neonatalogist came in and we had to confirm what we wanted post birth, as the plan was originally less intervention oriented. We still didn't change our minds about life support or any of that jazz, but we did want her to be assessed for survival chances in case things looked different outside of the womb..but we knew were just going to have to wait and see. I don't know how many people were lifting us up in prayer at this point...but I know it had to have been a lot, because we felt so. much. peace. As they wheeled me out of the room into the O.R. (urg, without my husband), I literally just felt the presence of way more than just two people (who were pushing me) surrounding my bed. I felt just swarmed, literally swarmed, with heavenly presences.....I didn't have Chris with me yet, but I felt so calm that I even cracked a joke with the anesthesiologist and he was all like, "Oh, gracious," and shaking his head while laughing at me. At that point, I was pretty sure Ellie was not going to be making it. I just felt like God was there waiting (not grim reaper style......but beautiful Father style ready to wrap her up) and I was devastated but also peaceful.

They numbed me, Chris got back there, and I spent the next 25 minutes or so staring into Chris' eyes while they did the surgery....and literally his eyes kept me so grounded. I told him to "talk to me about good things," so he rambled on about Hawaii (which I later found out was all he could come up with at the time) and I didn't even hear anything he said but his voice and his eyes were just the most gorgeous and soothing things ever. I heard the doctor say, "She's out" but I couldn't see her yet, and I knew the NICU team was working on her. Chris stood up and looked to the corner of the room where she was while they stitched me up and I knew she was alive then but I knew she wouldn't be alive long...I just knew.

They told us that they were keeping her heart going by using epinephrine and trying to get some tubes down for breathing, but were having trouble due to her tiny body and some malformations. I definitely knew at that point.

After about 20 to 30 minutes of working on her, the doctor told us that it wasn't looking good, and so we told them we just wanted to hold her. So they brought her to us and I got to hold her skin to skin while she left to be with Jesus...I don't know how long it was that she was alive on me...she looked so peaceful the whole time--but the staff gave us some time before they came over to verify that her heart had stopped beating. She was just so beautiful and had the best little cheeks to kiss. We just wept and kissed her and told her how much fun she was already having in heaven...and Chris just told her a million times how sweet she was. There are no words.........

There are no words for how hard this was (and is), and I can't even go into more detail because the memory is too precious. Literally, I am alive right now because the Father is sustaining me......because if pure heartache could kill me--this would have. Our sweet, sweet baby. He is continuing to breathe breath into our lungs and hold our hearts.

They told us we could keep her for as long as we wanted, which I never thought I would have wanted to do before all of this happened..but after seeing her I knew we needed to hold her and love her for a while. So we kept her for a good five hours or so..just staring at her and kissing her and smelling her. Sarah helped Chris bathe her since I couldn't really move from bed--and I was so content just watching her over there...I was being so loved on by the Father and it was so surreal. Don't get me wrong, the whole thing was devastating and indescribably painful, but I think it was as peaceful as it could have been, considering the circumstances. We held her and had our families come in to see us and see her before we held her a little longer and then let the staff take her. We felt a lot of closure saying goodbye to her physically...we felt devastated and heartbroken, but it just felt like it was time to give her up.

There is more I could say about right now, but we're just still in this place of intense heartache and also peace, all mashed into one. There is incredible pain. Incredible. And there is a lot of weeping in bed with my sweet husband. But also overwhelming moments of comfort and beautiful impressions of heaven where she is MUCH better off than we are....laughing and joyful all of the time. Heaven is looking so much sweeter these days, even better than before.

I've talked about this before, but my own parents know exactly what it's like to lose a child--as they lost their first daughter. My dad told me a couple days after that there literally is nothing worse--and I really hope that that is true. It makes sense as God literally did this willingly for us which I can't even comprehend--but clearly God knows the weight of the pain and the heartache. I can honestly say already that I'm terrified to get pregnant again in the future--and I'm working on that fear with Him..but we know it's just going to take time.

We are fully prepared and waiting in expectation for full healing from the Father...we are also fully prepared and waiting in expectation for God to use this for good......because we are declaring that there will be no more joy or hope robbed from our family. We are anxiously anticipating full and complete healing for our hearts--but missing Ellie every single second. Our beautiful friend took the sweetest pictures of Ellie, but I'm not ready to post all of them yet..so I'll just do one for now. Please continue to keep our family in your prayers as we move forward--once again, I cannot express enough gratitude for all of the prayers and love.

Well, my Ellielove, we made it to 37 weeks! Don't know what the next few weeks has in store, but that is victorious.