It's the Little Things in Life

I never thought I would be so excited to see drool in my entire life. Yes, drool. Something so ordinary to anyone who has ever had a baby, watched a baby, or smelled delicious food. But yesterday, when I went to the hospital and fed Baby Joseph his bottle he drooled for the first time since I met him at the clinic in Les Anglais. I started beaming and the mother couldn't understand why I was so excited. She thought: Are they letting him go home? Are we done being in the hospital? She didn't seem as excited as me when I pointed at him smiling and drooling. I explained to her that his lips were no longer chapped and he was able to drool because he was no longer extremely dehydrated. Mucous membranes moist? check! Mark it off on his chart as normal.

Not only is Baby Joseph no longer dehydrated, but his fever has come down. Lots of his tests came back negative for really serious infections so the residents moved him from the Les Cayes, Haiti version of a NICU to their general pediatric inpatient area. He continues to suck down his bottles of formula like a champ and has been gaining weight each day. He responds to my voice and even starts kicking his legs and grabs my finger with his hand when I sing to him after his feedings. I am hoping with a good toy to grasp and play with, when I am not there to entertain him, that his brain will develop normally despite this infection.

This must be how new moms are. Super excited when their child takes their first crawl forward, their first step, has their first piece of solid food, etc. The rest of the world could probably care less, but to them it's like Christmas came early. Like Baby Joseph's pseudo-mom I have also been tracking his brain development like a hawk. I talk on FaceTime at night with my significant other and we discuss the importance of Baby Joseph playing, needing an interactive toy, human touch, and lots of calories right now. I think to myself, maybe if we get him back on track his brain will develop perfectly. Maybe someday his mom will tell him about the blan med student who fussed over him when he just a few months old. Maybe she will tell him how he's a miracle baby. Maybe with this story he'll grow up and want to be a doctor someday, or an ethical dignitary wanting to improve the Haitian healthcare system...
And then reality always seems to set in and I am reminded that as a rural, poor Haitian he probably won't get to go to school. He'll be a miracle child if he survives this next year. So for now I guess I will celebrate the little victories - like the drool and smile that awaited me at the hospital yesterday...