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Almost a decade ago, I sat down with two colleagues during one of those lunch-on-your-own interludes during our annual convention. Before flying in to the convention city, we'd arranged to grab a meal in an offsite private place. Friends since seminary, we shared commonalities in musicianship, humor, moxie, and infertility. All names, including mine, have been changed to protect the innocent.

Three cantors walk into a Chinese restaurant. They pore over the menu as if looking for something that's missing other than food.

"Wonder how the baby bok choy is?" asks the adventurous Patty. "And could there be a bigger boom of kids in this group since last year?"

"What's everybody having?" inquires the accommodating Maxene.

"Yeah, I do see more strollers this year than usual; some real cuties there."

"Chicken and broccoli?" muses the practical LaVerne. "Broccoli's good for folic acid, right?"

This is our designated Infertility Lunch. It's a convention within a convention. Rather than feel disenfranchised from the multiple fruitful of The Tribe, we treat ourselves to a haven of solidarity. It is not our intention to kvetch and moan about our friends' good fortune at expanding their families. We do feel, however, a need to buck each other up and create a bit of normalcy in a time of shared challenge. As cantors, we're nothing if not vocal, but we want to sing a positive song even as we give vent to our hearts' desires:

Patti: "Sometimes it feels as if I'm the only one who hasn't found the afikomen yet. I'm sure each of us, at one seder or another, has found the afikomen and claimed the prize at some point in our lives. But this is a new game of hide-and-seek, and it seems so elusive for something that should be so easy."

Maxene: "Life is good. I can't complain; my job is wonderful, I'm married to the love of my life, and I totally enjoy what I'm doing. I know the cake is what's important... but oh, would I love just a little frosting on the cake!"

LaVerne: "Every time I reach a milestone with one of my students or have a little gem of a moment where I know they really got it, I send up a little silent prayer to God: 'Hey You...Did You catch that? Were You watching? Have I earned one of my own yet?'"

We know that we're not alone even though we seem to be in the minority. Our ancestor, Hannah, expressed herself much the same in I Samuel 1:9-16:

"Hannah ... prayed, weeping:... 'Lord of hosts, if You will look on the suffering of Your maidservant and will remember me and not forget your maidservant, and if You will grant Your maidservant a son, I will dedicate him to God for all the days of his life...'"

An observing priest mistakes Hannah's passion for intoxication: "'How long will you make a drunken spectacle of yourself? Sober up!' Hannah replied, 'Oh no, sir! I am a very unhappy woman. I have drunk no wine or other strong drink, but I have poured out my heart to the Lord. Do not take your maidservant for a slattern; I speak only out of my great anguish and distress.' 'Then go in peace,' said Eli, 'and may the God of Israel grant your request.'...She declared, 'You are most kind to your handmaid.' So the woman left, and she ate, and was no longer downcast."

So it was with three cantors who walked into a Chinese restaurant three thousand years later. We vented; not directly to God, but to each other. And who's to say that any well-expressed plea is not a form of prayer? Instead of being misunderstood by the village holy man, we were comforted by three simple holy women -- each other. We concluded with a lovely meal. We even brought the house down by belting out a rendition of, "I Want It All," from the musical Baby by Richard Malty, Jr. and David Shire.

Were our wishes fulfilled within a year as Hannah's was? Well... what's a year in Biblical terms anyway? Within two-and-a-half years we each found our afikomen due to happy, diverse factors. Maybe that loud, funny, cleansing, musical lunch made a difference and maybe it didn't. But speaking up to get your heart's desire is good for the soul. And as the saying goes, it can't hurt. We think Hannah would be proud.

Jacqueline Shuchat-Marx has served Temple Emanu-El of Edison as its cantor since July 2009.