Goodnight, Good Morning

It's 1am, and Kelli and I are just getting ready for bed. We were settled into our beds an hour ago, but neither of us could sleep without going to see Cooper again. We took turns holding him and listening to him whimper and whine -- that's how you can tell he's breathing, sort of like how you can tell Savannah is breathing because she's talking.

We're both tired of this and ready to go. Tonight we've had to fight the negative thoughts that are creeping in. For those of you who go to OMPC with us, you know all about the Christian Waltz. We're waltzing a groove in the floor tonight as we practice the three steps: repenting of our lack of belief and negativity; believing in Christ's sufficieny to sustain us and our child; and fighting to believe Christ is in control. Rather than focus on our frustration, we fight to focus on the positives and they are too many to list here. Primarily, we focus on our place in the universe as children of God. As much as we want Cooper back home with us, God wants us safely in his arms infinitely more. I know to some people that sounds like a lot of religious babble, but Kelli and I can no more choose to stop believing than we can choose to stop breathing. And there have been times we've tried.

Preview of tomorrow's blogging action: Fun With the Parsley...

On a lighter note, Kelli and I keep receiving reprimands from hospital staff for walking around in our socks. The most common explanation is, "you never what will be on these floors." What does that mean!? Do doctors play football with donor livers in the halls or what? "Dang. I dropped the liver. What should I do?" "Leave it for some rube in his sock feet to step on. It'll be hilarious!" Mostly they just look at us as if we've never worn shoes.