The Ride of our Life

Warning this is kinda raw:
Greetings, I wanted to write to you all with a prayer request, again. I know that you are all praying and I ask you to continue, but today I ask for an intentional prayer for Baby Cate's mom and dad. Are we faithful, yes, are we full of hope, yes, are we tired today, yes. This has truly been the most scary, exhausting, and emotional experience of our lives and marriage. You always see commercials on TV or read article about this kinda of thing happening to people, and you never think it could or would happen to you. Its different to be the one sitting in the waiting room, waiting, waiting on news, waiting on change, waiting for improvement. Everytime the "black phone" rings in the waiting room, you throw up in your mouth a little bit out of fear of the worst. Everytime you have a consultation as you walk in the consultation room you begin immediately trying to read the face of the Doctor or Nurse who is meeting with you. It is tiring, last night I think Ali and I both hit the wall in terms of emotional exhaustion. I went back to the hotel and she went down to the Ronald McDonald House and we both had the same experience, anger, sadness, desperation, each alone, crying to Father, cursing at imaginary people who frustrated us during the day, and wishing this was all over. As a parent, you just want to see you child smile, you want to hold your child, you want to smell their sweet breath on your face, and you can't, and you don't know when you will be able to again and the possibilty is more prevelant than ever that you might not, don't mistake that as a loss of hope, understand it as when you are face to face with lossing a child, it is a horrifying experience, one that I hope you never have to experience, and if you have you understand. I don't have the energy to hear that people "understand" or "know" how we feel or make some comparison to some activity going on their life. I feel like I am incapable of "bull-" you know what, I don't have the capacity at times to be gracious and so I don't answer my phone because I don't want to say something to someone that I will regret. Please, I know this is pretty raw, but Ali and I were talking earlier this morning, and she was saying I don't won't to give people a false impression of where we are at, we are not always raising our hand and praising God, that there are moments that we are face down on the floor in the waiting room crying and begging for the little bit of comfort, peace, or good news. This is a road that I never thought I would have to walk down and one I hope I never have to again. Ali and I are a united front, but there are moments that we lose it with each other or those around us. As we sit in the waiting room this morning, waiting to hear if our child's heart will be able to work on its own, we are tired and its only day six. Knowing that we have weeks ahead of us is incomprehensable right now. We miss our other kids, we miss the day to day activities like cutting the grass, washing dishes, doing the laundry, sitting in the living room with the roar of our kids running and laughing around us. I know that this may be hard to hear, and I don't want you to take it as a loss of hope, because its not, but it is reality and Ali and I don't want to be anything but honest with all of you, because we need you. Ali asked if you, our spiritual family, could pray for her for stamina and energy. As far as daddy goes, I want peace and graciousness to those who reach out to us. We love you guys and we need you. Ali and I both felt like this needed to be said, we did not want to project any false sense of reality, but always want to be truthful with who we are and where we are at. Again, I reiterate this is not a loss of hope nor a lack of faith, it just the road we are walking and the marathon we run.