Three unusual events in one mid-December morning:

1. I sneezed in the shower, which caused a chain reaction of gagging and then a loss of my breakfast. Alarming and odd. That never happened to me before. Still, I wasn’t thinking baby, even when…

2. I came downstairs to Aidan asking the household who put the empty box of cereal in the refrigerator? I realized it was my cereal. I did it. Maybe I needed more coffee?

3. Several hours later I was at the kids’ school, helping in Joel’s class. There was a surprise fire drill. The kids, all kindergarten and first-graders, leapt to their feet and filed into a silent and orderly line so expertly that I BURST INTO TEARS. I was so proud of them as we walked down the hallway and out the side door to the designated meeting spot. I have no idea what the teacher thought. Maybe I have some sort of fire drill post-traumatic stress syndrome? Yes, that’s it!

As we walked back into the school after the all-clear, I started adding up the events of the morning. I gag, make mindless mistakes, and cry easily when I’m…pregnant….

I picked up some groceries on the way home. On impulse, I threw a Kroger-brand pregnancy test in the cart. I felt silly.

It was positive.

I was unhappy. The timing was awful.

And then I got a gift for Christmas in the form of a jerk at church.

The Sunday before Christmas we strolled into the church lobby a few minutes late. We encountered a man who we knew from our old church. He was a fixture in the children’s ministry and our kids were in his care many times.

He saw us and said with a chuckle, “Hi, nice to see you. Hope you aren’t having any more kids!”

(for those of you without a big family, I assure you this sort of insult masked as a joke happens frequently)

I replied that I liked our kids. They are good kids.

Oh, how I wanted to stop and tell him it was too late. Sorry, another kid was undergoing rapid cell division in the center of my body. I hoped. I felt fiercely protective of the one who inspired fire drill tears and a chilled empty box of crumbs.

That was the moment I realized it was a great, great gift. I knew it before, I just didn’t know it. I believed it, but I didn’t.

I’ve been through this, but it’s always new.

Thank you to everyone for your warms wishes and congratulations. Thank you for prayers and for sharing in our happiness. I truly appreciate each comment and email.

It isn’t easy telling people that baby #8 is bobbing around inside me. I worry about negative reactions. I also worry I will have to “un-tell” if I lose the baby. Just because you are pregnant doesn’t mean you will have a baby. Learned that lesson X 4. It’s pretty ingrained and it’s a pretty awful truth.

If you’ve read my blog through my pregnancies with Beatrix and Archie, you know they were white-knuckle rides and I rarely said “Wheeeee!” I will not be comfortable until the baby is here, blinking, mewling, stretching, hungry, living. That doesn’t mean I don’t find joy or let myself be carried away by dreams of the future. I do, easily. I already am. I think of names and bedroom assignments.

We told the kids. They are excited. They naming and placing the baby, too.

Love comes quickly. One moment, you are thinking about making lunch or the homework in the backpack you don’t want to do and the next you learn a new brother or sister is coming and it’s the best! It’s worth jumping up and down over. It’s someone to name right away and find room for without hesitation.

Love comes quickly, as Joel demonstrated when he hugged me. His head rested on my poochy belly and he said:

Thank you.