"For Nothing Is Impossible with God."

I believe my exact words were, "Holy Crap!"

I came back from the movie store and had hardly walked into the kitchen when Ruthie came out of the bathroom.

"Take off your coat and stay a while."

"Um. Okay."

She held out a pregnancy test.

"What's that?" I said puzzled by the symbols that had appeared on the stick. ( + | ).

"I'm pregnant."

"What? Let me see the instructions." Sure enough, the test claimed Ruthie is pregnant. "Take another one," I said in disbelief. The second revealed the same results.

Not that I (or Ruthie) can begin to compare ourselves to the Virgin Mary, but I still can't help echoing her words to the angel Gabriel, "How will this be." It's not that I don't think God is capable. It's just that I didn't think it was possible.

Up to that moment we had basically figured that a biological child was not part of God's plan for us. We had come to grips with it. We already have a beautiful, sweet daughter through adoption. We couldn't have asked for a better child. I hadn't given up the desire for another child, but I had stopped actively praying for one.

Almost eight years ago, I was diagnosed with Stage IV Rhabdomyosarcoma. The cocktail of chemo that I had to take for a year left me sterile. Or so I thought. The chances were slim to none.

Well, the boys are back in town.