I am in the weirdest place. Technically, I am the happiest I have been in a very long time. But you combine that with sleep deprivation and hormonal spikes, and it's hard to keep a firm grasp on everything that's good. Explanations? Ha. Well ok then!

I am pregnant. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

This might seem like the natural course of events. First comes love, then comes marriage, then... we all know the end of the rhyme. The problem was that I never thought I'd reach that point. I had been told for as long as I could remember that I would not be able to have children without extensive medical help. Not having the money or resources to make that a realistic option left us with the simple truth. It's up to God.

Well, God decided that YES, he wanted me to be a mother. Everything I have ever wanted is at the very tip of my fingers and I can almost reach it. It's extraordinary. The problem is the empty spaces. There seem to be a lot of them whenever joy makes its way into my life. It's almost as if when I am happy, I let my guard down, and the darkness sneaks in. It snakes its way into the quiet places in my heart that lay dormant until I lay my head down at night. That's when the attack begins, and I can't help but dwell on everything my mind wanders to in those nightly moments of seclusion.

It's not a mystery that my family has never and will never be anything close to what it once was. I can look back fondly at all the times we shared together, knowing truthfully that those times will never be repeated. They can't be. They no longer exist. Those versions of us no longer exist. We're gone. The family is gone.

I have this habit of grasping onto things until they disintegrate in my hands. I think that's what has happened with my family life. There is a significant level of pain there, while at the same time... I feel numb. If I think too much about everything that has happened or HASN'T happened, I can't control the pain that takes me over. If I keep myself closed to it, I feel nothing. I feel no loss and zero connections. I can feel hurt when I am not included in various gatherings, while at the same time I can safely tell myself that I'm not missing anything.

I have found happiness with Conrad and his family. They have accepted me and include me in everything. I've missed that. I've missed feeling cared about. It's nice to matter, even if it's only because I married their beloved youngest son.

Recently I've been struggling to find my purpose in this world. As much as I want to be a writer who tells stories that change the world, that seems like it's a long way off. Instead I am a newlywed soon to be mother who works full time for a dry cleaning company. The glamour is definitely lacking from this scenario, but I'm content nonetheless. Whenever I had felt like I had no purpose before, I would immerse myself in church volunteer work. Recently that has become less and less possible.

I was the drama director for First Lutheran church for the better part of ten years. I had an identity there. I had a function. I was a contributing member of the congregation, rather than just a face in the sea of people that attend on Sunday mornings. I would write scripts and illustrate live on stage the various ways we are affected by God in our daily lives. I was passionate about it. I loved it. I needed it. I craved it.

I was a single part in a well oiled machine. I served a vital function. Over the course of several years, they slowly upgraded their machinery. My function became less and less necessary. As my job faded, so did my identity. Live drama was replaced with high tech videos. Everything exists on a screen. Live, vital emotion was replaced with well rehearsed watered down platitudes. This wasn't me. I had nothing to contribute. I resigned.

Now, I am no one. I do not exist. My sister Sunnie married into one of the more prominenet First Lutheran families. The only recognition I receive now after 12 years with that church, is my connection to that family. My name has been replaced once again with "Sunnie's Sister."

To make matters worse (for me...much better for her) Sunnie has taken on a position of childcare within the church on a semi-full time basis. She has a very tight knit connection to the "inside" church community. My inside ties have moved on for the most part, so I am very much left on the outer fringes. My sister once complained about the cliques within the church, not realizing that she is now very much a part of one.

I have given it several tries, trying to work my way back into the community. It's been to no avail. It really is a struggle to create a brand new identity when the majority of the people you are surrounded by believe that you and your sister are the same person.

I have stood in groups with my sister. Several women stood directly in front of me, with their backs to me, as if I were not standing there at all. I felt like I was being shunned. They didn't even notice they had done it. I noticed. I couldn't help but notice.

On Thanksgiving, I was approached by a woman I had seen several times before. She talked happily with my sister while I sat beside her for over fifteen minutes. She didn't even glance at me, until I moved to put my coat on. She smiled warmly, and thanked me for visiting First Lutheran. Afterall, it was so kind of me to visit and keep my sister company while her husband was working. She saw the look on my face and asked me if I attended regularly.

"For twelve years," I answered dryly. She admitted to having never seen me before. I knew better. She thought we were the same person. Honestly... yes, there is a resemblance, but seriously. I am much taller, we have completely different bodies and hair colors. Get with it, people.

I have visited other churches, but it's a scary endeavor. It feels like high school all over again, and you have to find your group. There are so many already well established groups, and you have to make the first approach. It's terrifying.

This past Saturday, I had a dream about First Lutheran. It was unsettling to say the least. I woke up scared that I may have made unfair judgments, and maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I woke up determined to give it one more chance. I arrived at church and dove into the swarm that is the common area in the front of the church. Anonymous. That's how it feels now. That's how I feel. They have everyone fill out a name tag now. I wrote "CORRIE CORDOVA" in large bold print, and displayed it proudly on my sweater. Here I am. This is me. I dare you to think I am my sister.

The whole way there I prayed for a sign that I was still meant to be there. I sat down by myself in the Fellowship Hall and continued to pray. Not long after, I was approached by a woman. She sat next to me and proceeded to talk to me excitedly.

"Oh, I am so glad you're here! I was hoping I would run into you. You have been on my heart for awhile now. I have been praying for you non stop. How have you been?"

I answered her questions, and was genuinely touched that this woman had been thinking of me. My heart swelled with happiness. Was this my sign? Was God answering my prayers? Did I belong at last?

"I think you would be an excellent addition to our Titus 2 ministry." Then she began telling me about the ministry that largely had to do with older women mentoring the younger women in the church. "I just want you so badly to be a part of it."

I was grinning. I couldn't help it. It felt good. It felt SO good to matter. I told her that I would love to be involved, but I wasn't sure how much I could commit to. Then I told her that I was four months pregnant. She cried out happily "Another blessing!" I was confused. Well yes, my unborn baby was a gigantic blessing. What other blessings was she referring to? She saw the look on my face, and decided to ask the question that I had been hoping would never be asked again.

"You're Kathy's daughter-in-law, Sunnie, right?"

I almost laughed. She had to be kidding. Really? I saw her look at my name tag. She couldn't be that dim. Was she serious? My heart plummeted as I pointed to my name tag. I couldn't answer with words. I shook my head curtly. "She's my sister." I managed.

"Oh my! Well, open mouth and insert foot. I'm sorry about the mistake. Well, I suppose you could come too if you'd like. Could you do me a favor and make sure Sunnie knows about it? We really want her involved. Congratulations on the baby," she muttered before scooting away from me as quickly as possible.

Shortly after that, the worship pastor introduced himself to me for the 12th time. "Have we met? I'm..."

"Yes, Chris. I'm Corrie," I said while pointing to my name tag again.

"Oh right. Sunnie's sister."

Ding ding ding! Nail on head. My new identity. My new OLD identity.

"No," I spoke to myself after he left. I answered my own unspoken question. "No, I don't belong here."

People I had once been very close to barely look up when I greet them. I don't know when or how it changed, only that it did and I don't fit there anymore. It's time to move on. As painful as it is, it also feels like a relief. I get a fresh start. I get an identiy that's only associated with me.

Hormones didn't help the situation at all. I'm sure I am far more sensitive than I would be otherwise. I am also easily offended. Things hurt that maybe wouldn't or shouldn't... but they do anyway.

The 6 year anniversary of Mom's death came and went without so much as a whisper from my closest friends. These friends have become my family. They fill the holes that have otherwise been left vacant. They are vital... I don't think they know how vital they are.

Maybe the presence of a tiny baby growing inside of me made it feel that much worse, but I still couldn't handle their absence. It's bad enough that they all live out of state. The only person I straight up said something to was Nikki. I knew she could handle it rationally, and look at it from my perspective. That's because she KNOWS my perspective even when I can't see it myself. That's good and bad. That also means she knows how to get away with things if she wanted to. Fortunately for me she rarely wants to.

Those are my hurts for now. Honestly... I am so very happy. I am content. I am joyful on a fairly regular basis. I am adopting new loves in order to let go of old hurts. Someday I will feel complete again. There are things I will never ever get back, but that's okay. New things will come to fill those empty spaces. There are things I will never understand or be able to forgive, but I am learning to live with that. Each day the pain is a little less intense. Each day Conrad finds a multitude of ways to make me laugh. I can feel the tension and longings wash off of me in waves.

I am bringing a baby into this world, and I will give it a life filled to the brim with love. I will not pass on my insecurities or force my child into worlds they do not want to be a part of. I will not try to shield my child from the hurts I encountered by bullying them into submission. They will make their own choices and face their own consequences. I will be there to support them in the aftermath, always. I will not shame my child if they are overweight, but I will honestly share my experiences. I will not hide food and give my child a complex. I can't wait to be a mother. I learned so many things from my childhood... both good and bad. I embrace it all. While my mother had her faults, she set good examples. EXCELLENT examples on both what to do and what NOT to do. It's a blessing to be able to learn from mistakes, even if they're not your own.

Wow, I needed to purge in words. It feels really good to write things down. I may look back on it later and think that I'm a complete lunatic, but that's okay. It's all a part of the journey. All of it.