While in the hospital, Cooper was poked and pricked more than any tiny person should be. Here is just one foot worth of evidence. His other foot looked about the same. He had bruises and scabs from IV lines on each hand, not to mention the visible hole in his scalp from another IV stick. I know it probably doesn't look like much, but it left quite an impression on me.
I can't help but associate the wounds of my son with the wounds on the hands and feet of Jesus. Don't get me wrong, I am in no way comparing my child to the Saviour of the world. I'm just saying each hand, each foot, and Cooper's sweet little head was marred. More than realizing how much I can love another person, I started to realize how much God loves me. I cannot fathom giving my son up for anyone. Let alone a person who seems to constantly ignore me and take me for granted. But God continues to love me. Even when I am so consumed with my son that I have consistanly failed to spend time with Him.
I am committed to getting back to my daily quiet time, even if it happens during a 3am feeding. I want Cooper to grow up knowing how important God's word is. I want him to see Tanner and I giving it the place in our lives that it deserves. I remember seeing my parents reading the bible; my mom's is held together with duct tape. I want my son to have a good example like I did. And that example starts with me.
All that to say, on Tuesday, Cooper finally shed to last of the marks that served as reminders of how his little life on the outside started. The spot from the IV on his left hand has finally healed. Now there are no visible signs left that he spent his first week in the NICU. He looks like any other almost-month-old baby, but he is cuter than most!
We love because He first loved us. 1 John 4:19