The Outlook

out⋅look  [out-look]
–noun
1. the view or prospect from a particular place

Some of you who have come to visit have experienced the Great Wall that proudly blocks my view of any life outside of the hospital. Every now and then I see a bug. I can see the sunshine, but I can't see the sky unless I walk up to the window and crank my neck back to see a patch of blue. For those of you who know me well, you know that I enjoy the beauty of nature, especially in the summer months. The warmth of the sun and the colors of summer instantly lift my spirits; thus I find the lack of any of it dreadful. However, I am remembering--as I have plenty of time to think--that the "outlook on life" is much more than just the view outside my window.

Today I had a lengthy chat with my doctor after my ultrasound. She said that the dopplers are improving, which means the blood flow to Baby B is normal now. Even though she has "Severe IUGR (Intrauterine Growth Restriction)" she has made some big steps since we've been here. Her growth, as I mentioned before, has jumped, and she's packing on the ounces. When she isn't compared to Baby A, we rejoice in her own accomplishments as she is making those improvements in growth and blood flow. Baby A is doing well, so we haven't had to worry about her during this pregnancy until the birth. Doc said if everything continues to look great, there might be a chance I could go home. During the next 3 seconds I thought to myself:

Wouldn't it be great to go home again? I could see the dogs, spend more time with Allan, sit in my front yard....prepare for the babies....get stuck in a house that I can't clean....be depressed because I can't do anything for myself and I have no one to help me....as much as I would love to get out of this place, maybe it's not the best solution

So I was honest with my doctor as the words escaped my mouth, "I'll be honest with you. I would love to leave, but I am much more rested here than I will ever be at home while I'm pregnant." I explained to her everything I would have to do myself and things I would be tempted to do that I shouldn't. She quickly changed her mind and said, "Well then, we'll take that out of our plan." She would rather me be waited on hand and foot at the hospital. I hated that I had to tell her that, but my conscience was stronger than my temptation. I remember being physically miserable at home. Although at the hospital I can't see the sky or feel the breeze, swim in a pool or sit by the river, cuddle with the dogs and soak in the bath, and say goodnight and good morning to my husband in person, I need to keep my babies and me healthy. I rambled on about sacrifice in my last post, but this is the kind of sacrifice that is absolutely necessary and unavoidable. I would give up all those things just for a little while so that we can spend the rest of our lives with our two healthy girls. Sometimes savoring life isn't just basking in the bright glow of the sun. It is seeing your baby in black and white on the monitor, kicking and sucking her thumb as her little heart beats fast and her chest rises and falls to breathe. It is the simple relieving thought that your child(ren)'s chance of survival is improving. Sometimes it is seeing their bright future and God's grace.

Sometimes life is about having a heart full of love and experiencing that of someone else. Through this whole process, Allan has been extremely supportive. I couldn't and wouldn't ask for a better husband. He has made the hour drive to the hospital every night after work just to spend a couple hours with me in my stark and boring room, just to drive an hour back home and have no time for himself before goes to bed and wakes up the next morning to do it again. He does my laundry and brings me things I need. He never complains. He just tells me how exhausted he is, and I can see it. I insist that he doesn't have to do anything for me. He insists that he does. Talk about sacrifice.

Sometimes having a good outlook on life is, in fact, about the grand scene...but a different kind than I have been longing to see again. It is when you look up from your to-do list and the worry about finding a way to make ends meet, seeing how your life has unfolded and counting the beautiful ways God has provided...even if it is difficult to find them. I never would have thought I would be in this place even two years ago when Allan proposed to me. In the past year, I became a wife to a wonderful, talented, loving, and strong husband, a step-mom to a sweet, smart and beautiful little girl, and a mother to two identical girls (still pending, of course). Allan and I made it to our goal I mentioned in my last post. We have seen each other every single day since June 14, 2008. They say that the first year is the hardest in marriage. I think this year was easier than our engagement! I have also heard people say that the best years they had together with their wife/husband was when they had almost nothing. I can see that. We struggle to pay our bills and our house is in shambles, but like our hearts, it is a house full of love. I think Allan's daughter is beginning to see that, too. It doesn't seem to bother her as much anymore that she doesn't have her own room or a space to call her own yet. She is perfectly content just being where we are. What a profound thought. If only everyone were content just by having each other...

My outlook right now is seeing the big gray wall, yet savoring the little patch of blue and the simple suggestion of the sun...even the mosquito that thankfully cannot get in. My outlook on life is seeing the bleakness of the hospital room, but choosing my long days here so I can hear the doctors say "She's getting better every day." I just have to hang in a little bit longer so that I can bask in the glow of Life with my new family at home.