We just left the hospital, where Baby Clay has been keeping us entertained for the past couple of hours. He was so wide-eyed and serious-looking when I read a couple of picture books to him.
One was a book about farm animals. I promised him we’d get him some chickens, maybe a goat or pony or two when he gets a little bigger.
It’s fun to watch him slowly awaken from a state of drowsiness, when he’s yawning and can barely focus those big eyes, to a state of alert awareness, when we’ve got his rapt attention.
I wonder what he’s thinking as he studies our faces and listens intently to the razz-berries we make with lips and tongue, the clicks and other nonsensical sounds.
No doubt he thinks his Nana is strange, but I swear he’d be cooing back at me if it weren’t for the trach.
The home ventilator wasn’t a very good fit for Clay last week. He got really tired on it after 24 hours or so and respiratory care ended up switching him back to the hospital vent. Sounds like he’s going to have to grow a little more before he’s ready for the home vent, which just isn’t as technologically advanced as the one he’s been on.
Just looking at him, Clay looks so good, so healthy, that it’s hard to imagine his lungs could be very underdeveloped at all.
Maybe he won’t be coming home right away, but hopefully it won’t be long. In the meantime, he’ll continue to charm everyone with those cute dimples—and we’ll be thankful for every single minute we get to spend with him.