Have you ever been standing at a bar (or waiting anywhere in line where it's kind of haphazard) and the bartender doesn't always get the whole "who's next" concept? You know that you're next in line, that you've been waiting the longest, and really you should be the one to be served next. You're even quite certain that the people around you know this, but when the bartender goes to help one of them no one says a word. I've had this happen before. It's not one of my biggest pet peeves, but I don't exactly welcome the exercise in patience building either. In the grand scheme of life, I'd say this experience is quite minor. That is, until I had a realization...
I realized that this is how I feel about God and waiting for a baby. I feel like I must not be doing the right thing to get God's attention. That my prayers must not be quite right...that there must be something different I need to do to get him to notice me and finally give me what I want. (This Budweiser commercial hit a little too close to home and may or may not have caused tears to well. I'm pretty sure I'm the prairie dog.) Yes, I'm aware of how silly this sounds now that I'm actually putting it in writing. But if you're reading this as someone who has had to wait or is waiting, you likely know what I'm talking about.
Ok, so perhaps comparing God to a bartender may seem a little odd and perhaps even disrespectful, but it's the best analogy I can think of. Several times over the last three years, I've had the feeling that someone else has butted ahead of me in line; that they somehow stole God's attention and got the baby that should have been intended for me. It's one thing when it's been casual acquaintances or "friends" on facebook that I haven't seen since elementary school; with them I don't feel quite so guilty when I give them the evil eye for having the nerve to cut in line. But it's a very strange feeling when the people that get "served" first are people I love: close friends, coworkers, and sisters-in-law.
If this wasn't an analogy for babies, and we were actually waiting to get a drink at the bar, I'd be happy to let any one of these people I love get their beverage of choice before me; in fact, I'd be happy to buy. But suddenly when it's something a bit more important, I find it hard to be that noble. I truly wish that my first reaction was of joy and happiness for the blessed mom-to-be, but unfortunately I have to muddle through quite a bit of other mucky feelings before I get to that place.
First, there's the stab of jealousy as I hear how "surprised they were it happened the first month." This is followed by an evening of tears and a pathetic little pity party for one, which includes a large dose of guilt for having not felt immediate joy at the wonderful news. This usually gives way after a few days and often leads to the ray of hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the friend that I'll get to be pregnant with; that I'll get pregnant this month and then we can do the whole "bonding over morning sickness" thing together. (Of course, we'll have adjacent hospital rooms and one day our kids will be best friends.) And then...within a week or two, when I get confirmation that's not going to be the case, I have another lovely evening of tears. And sometime that evening or in the days or weeks to come, I realize that a baby is something to be celebrated. I can't always get my heart to feel it as much as I would like, but the joy for my friend is there.
I wish I could say that the whole scenario mentioned above is past tense, that I've really matured over the last three years, and that those yucky feelings don't happen with each announcement we get. The good news is that God's been doing some work in my heart, and I'm happy to report that there seems to be a little less muck to wade through each time; and what used to take weeks, now lasts a matter of days.
Little by little, God is teaching me that He is a very wise bartender; He knows His customers very well and knows what we need better than we could ever imagine. I'm just glad He finally made eye contact, and that I saw His meaningful wink and nod. He isn't ignoring me; I've got His full attention. And right now, He knows that I don't need a "drink." For reasons unknown to me, He thinks the best thing for Ryan and me is to wait.
In the meantime, I am making a conscious effort to be thankful for His wisdom. Although I know this experience is what's best for us and will ultimately be much better than if I had just gotten my "drink" the first time I asked, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And even though I may struggle in sharing in the joy of someone's joyous news, I am truly happy when someone else hasn't had to struggle through these feelings that can pretty much convince a girl she's going insane. My next assignment: spend the time that I used to spend wallowing in prayer; not just the selfish prayers that I'll get what I want, but prayers for the little ones hanging out in the tummies of some wonderful ladies I love. (Jodi, Nicole, Jen...if you ever read this, know that I am so very happy for you. I'm not sure when or if I'll be able to express it to you, but know that you and your little ones are in my prayers.)
I have officially equated babies to an elaborate system of punishments & rewards and drinks at a bar...perhaps there is good reason why I have not yet been entrusted with one. :)
Edit (10/17/10): Just got super exciting news!!! Jessica (a friend from my 2001 summer in Door County, who has been "waiting in line" six and a half years) just shared the joyous news that she and her husband, Clint, are expecting! A bit strange to realize that the range of emotions that I described above did not happen at all with this one announcement. This time I cried tears of joy and hope. Ah, hope! It feels good!
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