Quite surprised, I discovered about 3 weeks ago that just shy of turning 36, and just getting the 'last' Campbell baby out of her crib and into a big-girl bed, and just after handing off all my baby clothes, I was pregnant. For one long agonizing week I held my tongue and wandered through the days and nights in a sort of dreamy state. How could this be? Now? What would Ross say? Will I be a SAHM again? (Other realizations began to hit...ohhhh...so it wasn't the sahlep (Turkish sweet milk drink) that made me sleepy by 6:30...it's a bun in the oven!!!)
The next weekend we planned to meet up with some other couples to celebrate our birthday (primarily Ross' birthday as he was due to hit his 40th). We enjoyed a nice Mexican meal, then I handed him a card. He read my little riddle..."You did not ask for this gift...it can not be returned...it can't be opened until later..." and he was quite amused and confused. Then he read the line, "Eva was to be our Songul..." and it hit. (In Turkey, the last daughter is often named Songul which means Final Rose.) And at that moment, he coughed, he sputtered, he teared up, and he knew. Now I realize that wasn't exactly 'nice' of me, but how often do you find out about a surprise pregnancy 1 week before your husband has his 40th birthday party? Our friends rallied, we all laughed, we enjoyed the teasing. But it was not until after we dropped the last friend off, that Ross pulled up to the mountain ridge above us and said, "SARA!!! How did this happen?!!!" to which I replied, 'You tell me.' So, there ya have it. But the truth is that while our plan was to be done with the baby years, we said if God intervened that would be ok. This intervention is ok.