But I do have identity

I don't fit in.

I am a mother who can't relate to baby talk.  I don't know much about sleep schedules, tummy time, important milestones, the proper way to buckle a car seat, what temperature the bath water should be, what music baby likes best and how to calm a crying baby in 10-seconds flat.

 I've experienced my water breaking, laboring a child to full dilation, and emergency c-section recovery. I understand milk production and how to soothe related aches and pains. I know very little about babies, but a whole lot about childbirth. My son was born four months ago and went to heaven 93 minutes later. He spent his life in our arms. There was no routine. There was no opportunity to morph into an expert. There were only whispered "I love you"s, soft lullabies and tearful prayers. 

Yet, I know I am a mother. I am forever changed. The moment I got pregnant, I became a parent. I don't think like I used to.  I completed my pre-baby goals. I kissed elaborate vacations goodbye. I baby-proofed my life. I began to think about birthdays, holidays and celebrations as an opportunity to create meaningful family traditions for the next generation. We willingly traded in our young married days for a new chapter, filled with dreams about of a house full of children. 

Someone who has lost a parent is an orphan. Someone who has lost a spouse is a widow or a widower. What do you call a parent who has lost a child? There is no word for it.  I am not saying that the grief is any more than the other two...I'm simply saying that child loss shakes your identity.

Who am I? The question rattled around my head, as I left yet another awkward social gathering where I just didn't fit in.

Who am I?  I am a wife and a mother. I am a mother with no babies at home. I am a 27-year old empty nester. I am a mother who loves her child fiercely, every moment of every day, despite the distance. I am a broken heart, but better because of it. I feel the pain of those around me fiercely. I cannot watch the news without sobbing. I empathize with the hurting, because I know what it feels like to have the breath sucked out of your lungs and to feel as if your entire perspective on everything you ever knew has changed. I am a million things, yet I do not belong.

Who am I?

And then the truth hit me.

I may not belong, but I do have identity. 

This world is not my home. I'm not supposed to belong.
Hebrews 13:14 "For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come."

I am a child of God. 
John 1:12 "But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God."

I was created for a purpose. 
Ephesians 2:10 "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."

He has identified us as his own, by giving us the Holy Spirit.
2 Corinthians 1:22 "He has identified us as his own by placing the Holy Spirit in our hearts."

I cannot put my trust in man. In this world. In anything, other than Christ. 
Colossians 3:1-2 "Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated as the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things." Psalm 118:8 "It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man."

I do not belong. I do not fit in.

But I do have identity.