When I say everyone’s pregnant, I really mean it. Everyone is pregnant. Or at least that’s how it seems.
I can’t go on Facebook for five seconds without seeing that someone else I’m connected with gave birth, or stalk out Snapchat stories and browse my Instagram feed without babies in my face. Babies everywhere, in my face, on my mind. Try as I may, I can’t help but be more-than-a-little jealous.
In fact, I can’t even go out onto my front porch without seeing babies.
A robin built a nest in my hanging flower basket. I only noticed after my flowers started to wilt and my Miracle Grow stopped making miracles happen. When I peeked inside the basket, I noticed a large, empty nest.
I think I understand bird reproduction almost as much as I understand human reproduction. I thought, “If the nest is empty, she must have already had her babies and maybe I can move it.” And I told myself, “Thank God… I can’t handle seeing any more babies.”
But it seems like each new day brings a new test of my emotions. And sure enough, in just a few days, three bright, beautiful blue eggs found a home in the nest.
I had so many feelings (so many more feelings than you would think someone would have when they have a bird’s nest in their flower basket). First, I was angry about my flowers: “That dumb bird decided to nest here and RUIN my brand new basket!” Next, I was confused: “Well, can I move the nest? How can I still water my flowers!?” And then, as shameful as it is for me to admit, I was jealous. That’s right. I’m jealous… of a bird.
This mama bird was working against one big odd: me, who wanted to remove her babies’ nesting place. Yet still, the universe worked in her favor, and I didn’t move the nest and (so far) her babies are growing fine and healthy. I don’t know what the future brings for these little eggs, but I am a little anxious and worried to see if they make it. The more concerned I get for the baby birds, the more foolish I feel for ever being mad that the bird chose to make a home in my flowers and the more I just hope for her that all three of her babies hatch and are born into this world beautiful, healthy, and exactly how she expected them to be.
I can’t say that every day when I go home and see her sitting on my flowers I still don’t get a little annoyed. But my husband said to me last night, “You need to move past being mad about your flowers and now just appreciate that new life is being born here.” He’s right.
Instead of being jealous of this bird, I’m going to do what I can to help her nurture her eggs until they hatch. Even if that means my flower basket has to die.