Dear Single Girl: There’s Always Another One Coming

My grandma always told us girls that “men are like buses…there’s always another one coming”.  During whatever current heartbreak we were going through, her words weren’t terribly comforting.  Looking back, though, I realize how much truth lay in them.

My freshman year of college I was on the hunt for a man.  I was lonely, my heart ached for love, and, frankly, I thought that meeting and marrying the man of my dreams was the highest goal of my life.  It should come as no surprise to you that my search for a man fogged my vision and caused me to make more than a few mistakes in the boy department.

The first was a guy that didn’t even like me as more than a “friend”.  In my head, however, I’d decided that he was the guy for me.  I made up this fantasy world in my head where he was exactly what I was “needing”, that we would soon admit our love for each other, and that that would be the end of the story.

All I can say is I am so glad he didn’t show an interest in me.  In reality, he was all wrong for me.  If we’d ended up together we’d have made each other miserably unhappy.  The fantasy in my head did not line up with reality, and dealing with reality would have been an unbearably hard pill to swallow.

The second was a guy who really did like me.  He was a really great guy with a heart for the Lord and I liked him too.  Only, I never had peace about the whole thing.  Something just wasn’t right.  I decided to tell him, but then reconsidered when my hunger and aching for a man tried to sway me otherwise.

In that situation, the only thing that stopped me was God.  Out of the blue, I heard Him tell me two things: a very firm and resounding “NO”, and a very clear directive (and desire, strangely enough considering my former negativity) to join

At the time, I wanted to fight Him.  There were no other guys in my life that I was even remotely interested in.  I didn’t even know how I’d meet other guys.  Furthermore, there was absolutely nothing wrong with this guy.  When I say he was a great guy, I really mean it!  What I realize now that I didn’t know then was that he was a great guy, but he wasn’t God’s best for me (nor was I God’s best for him).

And so, with His leading ringing in my head I broke things off with this great guy, joined HSA, and clung to the words of my Grandmother.  Little did I know that a month later I’d meet this other great guy named Andy Baker, or that I’d be engaged to him 9 months later.

My friend, don’t lose heart, and don’t let your hunger for a man cloud your vision like it did mine.  My grandmother was right…you never know what great guy is just around the bend.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6



Yep, still waiting.

Monday at the doctor’s I was finally dilated to about 1 cm.  So, I guess all these weeks of prodromal labor haven’t been for naught!  For a while, I felt like I would be pregnant forever.  You know, I would just keep having contractions and baby would never come.  Honestly, I don’t think my doctor even believed that I was having contractions as frequently as I said I was.  Monday, though, when then nurse practitioner went to check Baby B’s heartbeat, she asked me if I was having a contraction because my belly was pretty tight.  After a bit it loosened up, and she was pretty sure I had had one.  Only thing is, I didn’t feel a thing.

Apparently this surprised her enough to put me on the fetal monitor for a bit, and, sure enough, I was having frequent, albeit varying and sporadic, contractions!  Baby didn’t seem to be showing any signs of distress, though, even when I had a really long hard contraction.  He was bouncing all over while I lounged in a big, comfy recliner, drinking a Mountain Dew they gave me to wake Baby B up.  How many times in your life do you get to do that at a doctor’s office?

The other good news is that he’s all down in position!  His head is wedged down as far as it can go, which is pretty remarkable since he’s still kicking me in the ribs.  Yeah, in case you had any doubts about this baby being tall!  The nurse practitioner thought it could be any day now.  My doctor doesn’t get back until Monday, but at this point I really don’t care that much.  I am ready!  

So, anyway, here I am…waiting for baby to come.  All my out-of-the-house work has pretty much ended since I had to train someone to fill my place, so I’m finding some pretty boring days on my hands.  If it wasn’t so stinking hot outside, or if we lived anywhere remotely close to a mall, I’d probably be walking all the time.  Here I am, though, stuck in the middle of cow country during one of the hottest summers on record.  Thank the Lord for air conditioning.  In my house at least.

I have learned something very important about myself: I don’t just “chill” very well.  I thought I would enjoy these last few days, having the free time to relax, watch the Olympics, or read a good book.  Really, though, sitting on the couch just makes me feel like I’m sick.  I don’t like being sick.  Therefore, lounging on the couch is not working for me.  Also, you can only clean your house so many times.  Last week I even vacuumed the walls in our bedroom.  I think it was more out of sheer boredom than compulsive nesting.

So, anyway, hopefully the next time you hear from me it will be with a birth announcement.  That, or another whiny post about waiting.  Oh, but scratch that…in all my bored free time I’ve been contemplating some pretty deep things about life and God.  So, be looking for a post tomorrow that is totally, mind-bogglingly philosophical.  If you don’t find it thus, please disregard it as the random ramblings of a emotional pregnant woman, two days away from her due date.