First Mother's Day

Sunday was my very first Mother’s Day and it was quite an emotional day! (To be fair, I did have children living with me last year on Mother’s Day, but it actually made me feel worse to be called a mother because I really wasn’t – I was just a stand-in. It would be like the stunt double giving the acceptance speech for the best actress….) At breakfast Primero gave me a beautiful card that he created. He is very artistic and so he drew a beautiful rose and then wrote lovely things all around it and on the back. He said such beautiful things that it made me cry. He then produced a lovely gold cross bracelet. He used the money I gave him to get his mom a gift for Mother’s Day to get us both something. The bracelet is so delicate and beautiful, I love it. At church my heart was bursting with joy at the prospect of becoming Primero’s mother. I cried when all the mothers were called up front for a special gift and prayer. The Pastora preached on Sunday and she chose to talk about Hannah from 1 Samuel, Chapter 1. Hannah was barren and prayed for (and eventually got) a son – so of course this made me cry again. At the end of the service I went to the front of the church for special prayer and while I waited for the Pastora to finish with others, Primero came down from his Sunday school class and joined me. When Pastora came to pray for us she told me I was no longer alone and she prayed for our new family (I had told her previously that I was going to be adopting Primero). During the prayer she placed her hand on my abdomen and prayed for the biological child she was certain I would have and then prayed I would have the faith to believe it was going to come to pass. This made me cry again, mostly because I’m so far removed from entertaining the possibility of a biological child it was startling to hear her speak of it. Clearly, I have no faith that this will happen, I have totally given up on passing along any of my own genes. Even in the midst of joy, there remains a bitter reminder of what infertility has taken from me.

 

After church we went up to the farm, as is our custom. I was sitting with my mom on the porch while Primero was playing with their adorable little puppy in the front yard. My mom said, “So what are you going to do with him?” I looked at her and said, “What do you mean, ‘what am I going to do with him?’ He point-blank asked me to adopt him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” My mom expressed her concerns, mostly financially related, about this prospect. She thought it would be better for me to just take legal custody instead. I struggled to succinctly put into words the things I post on this blog. So, I grabbed the Mother’s Day card he created and showed it to her, hoping she could see how meaningful our relationship was to him and to me – I wanted her to see how special he was and how  beautiful it was to get the opportunity to adopt him into our family. Primero and the puppy came bounding up onto the porch where we were sitting and after she finished reading the card she looked at him and said, “It’s getting pretty sappy here.” And no more was said about it. I know my mother’s concerns stem from her worrying about her daughter and the life-altering decision she is about to make. I get that. But, I also think she is dealing with the shock of her first grandchild joining the family as a teenager and not a baby. It’s another deviation from how things are “supposed” to go – the first deviation being adoption in the first place, since a biological child seems highly unlikely. Still, I wish there was some eagerness surrounding her trepidation, but instead she just seemed resigned. I think it is hard for others to see the divine intervention in our own personal lives. What looks like and feels like a direct nudge from God to me, looks like a mistake and unnecessary burden to my mother. She wants a baby. But, babies are not so easy to come by. And for that reason, it is very easy for CHOR to place a baby, but much, much harder to find an adoptive home for a teenage boy. Even at the CHOR banquet last week the workers and head of the agency talked about how many more teens are in foster care than younger children. My decision is made and short of some apocalyptical crisis, I will not change my mind. My mother should know by now that she has raised a daughter to think for herself – um, Flaco anyone? And I take full responsibility for the choices I make. Deciding to adopt Primero was not the most difficult decision to make, rather it was incredibly easy. The hard decision was to keep him as a permanent foster care placement. It was that decision that ate at my insides and gave me no peace until I decided he could stay. Once that decision was made, keeping him forever was a no-brainer (I am not trying to make light of the decision to adopt because it is a life-altering and life-long decision, I just mean that it came rather naturally based on the other smaller yet no less-significant decisions I made along the way). Why on earth would I say no now?

 

Primero talked to his mom at some point late Saturday night (he stayed up to make my beautiful card) and he told her what decision he had made – to be adopted. In case there is still some doubt at just how amazing this child is, he showed a level of maturity that many adults would not have in this situation. He was honest with his mother, telling her he could not live with her knowing she was unwell, but he also had an immense amount of compassion for her, telling her he loved her no matter what and that he knew she didn’t choose to be sick. He told her she didn’t have to worry about him but to take heart knowing he was in a loving home and being well taken care of by someone he wanted to be with. His mother posted on Facebook how it was the worst day of her life and he responded again with such grace and mercy towards his mother. He’s one incredible kid and I complimented him on how mature he was in handling a very delicate situation. I know he worries about his mother trying to harm herself because he credits himself for saving her life twice. I worry with him but I told him he cannot be responsible for the actions of another person and that all he can do is offer his support when it’s safe to do so. I don’t doubt these are his mother’s darkest hours but I pray she will use this pain to propel herself out of the pit and into a better life.

 

Yesterday afternoon Primero was leaning against me, snuggled under my arm and playing a game on his phone. I kissed the top of his head, gave him a squeeze and told him I loved that he still likes to cuddle. As we went out to dinner with my family he said he was having some trouble with his asthma but had left his inhaler at home. As he became lethargic and uncharacteristically quiet, I rushed to feed my honeybees, say good-bye to my family, and get him home to his asthma pump. Luckily, after a few puffs his wheezing lessened and the color returned to his cheeks. He apologized for making me rush home and I told him not to be silly, I was able to spend time with my family and I was more worried about him having trouble breathing. I did gently chastise him for not having his inhaler with him, but only because he had me so worried. As he was getting ready for bed he gave me a big hug and told me he was glad he could help me celebrate my first official Mother’s Day. I squeezed him back and told him how much I loved him and that I was so happy to have him as my soon-to-be son. He said, “Thank you and thank you for saving my life.” An emotional, yet perfect ending to a wonderful, unforgettable first Mother’s Day.