The Great Outdoors

During a quick ultrasound this afternoon, a resident asked me what I was most looking forward to doing once I “get outta here,” other than holding my babies. I paused, surprised that an answer didn’t instantly leap into my consciousness. After a moment, I replied that I couldn’t wait to be outside again. Yet while she was busily scanning my belly to check on the girls’ well-being, I thought more about my answer. I’ve never considered myself an “outdoorsy” person. It wasn’t until I met Jim that I even conquered (or at least, repressed) my irrational fear of having my toes amputated by hungry fish in any non-chlorinated body of water. But while I’m chained to this bed during the seemingly endless afternoon hours, what is it that I’m daydreaming about? I’m imagining how good it would feel to have the sun beat down on my shoulders, the breeze tickle my skin, the rain mat down my hair, to simply be exposed to the elements. Maybe I’m an outdoor person after all…or at least, a low-intensity outdoor person. The idea of vigorous hiking feels too ambitious at this point, now that a trek to the bathroom leaves me winded. But soon after I am sprung from this establishment, with my daughters nestled in their double stroller, I plan on taking a long, leisurely walk. The ringing of the call bells will be replaced by the singing of the birds, the buzzing of the monitoring equipment will morph into the chirping of the crickets, the glare of the florescent lights will give way to the shining of the sun…and the stillness of the air will be pierced by the cries of two sets of healthy lungs…sounds like paradise to me!