He's Fruity

How is it that when you know in your heart of hearts that you are doing the right thing, that something was divinely orchestrated in your life, someone else can have a completely opposite opinion? Even a damaging opinion. I have not been shy in declaring my relationship with Primero as an act of God – how else do you explain a woman, dead set on adopting a baby, agreeing to adopt a teenage boy? How else can you explain the connection we have, the ease in which we slipped into our roles of mother and son? I say, it was God, He ordained this relationship from the beginning. How do others not see it the same way? Is it because they have not been through what we have been through, that this doesn’t make sense from the outside looking in? I can understand not getting it because it’s kinda kooky at face value, but once I tell the story and weave the tale of how each step was guided by the mighty Hand of God – how do you still view this as trivial?

 

I am speaking of an experience we had last night with my Pastor and his wife, the Pastora. I love them both as my pastors but our meeting last night left me feeling hallow and like every effort I make in this life is simply a worthless endeavor. We met at a local Dunkin’ Donuts to discuss the paperwork for my pastoral training. Of course Primero was along with me and for whatever reason he was having a hard time with the attention not being on himself – I think there is something about the Pastora that makes him feel uncomfortable. Let me explain.

 

We talked about a lot of things and at one point I told them our tale, the story of God bringing us together, of how initially I was called to take Primero in respite in November last year and during that same call I was asked to take him as a foster care placement, if everything went well during respite. I agreed to take him in respite but I was angry that CHOR would ask me to take him as a foster care placement knowing I was dead set on adopting and only interested in legal risk or adoption placements now that my home was empty. I remember seeing Primero at the Christmas party where my friend thought he was a new member of the staff because he was hanging out with his case worker and not his foster family. A few weeks after that I was again called to take this teenage boy in respite and again I agreed. That one weekend evolved into every weekend in January and every weekend in February. The beginning of February I was again asked to take him as a foster care placement and again I said no for the same reason – I’m waiting for my baby. The end of February rolled around and the county had not found a home for him and were left with the option of begging me to take him temporarily to buy them more time or putting him in a shelter. I couldn’t let that happen, not to the child I knew as sweet and sensitive, so I begrudgingly agreed to take him temporarily, just until they could find him a more suitable foster home. He was ecstatic to be staying with me because that is what he wanted all along. I tried to temper his excitement by reminding him it was temporary. I was waiting for a baby, you see. Then came the planning meeting when the CHOR case worker told the county case worker in front of our faces at my kitchen table that should I get a call for a placement, they would want Primero out that same day. Back to the shelter situation or worse, a facility for juvenile delinquents which I knew Primero did not deserve. I searched my heart and I found no peace until I had a plan to keep Primero in my home while still waiting for my elusive baby. The next week CHOR found another foster home for Primero, another temporary situation. But, I had already promised Primero could stay as a foster placement and it was decided this was the better option. A few weeks after that Primero asked me to adopt him because he was frustrated by his mother’s lack of progress and missing so many visits. He mentioned this to his case worker and she timidly asked me via email if I would consider taking legal custody of Primero should things come to that. And it was all decided at the court date last month that the goal for Primero was no longer to go back to his mother but to stay with me and we would move towards adoption. Can you see it in the story? Can you see God’s Hand guiding our path? Despite my reluctance and several “no’s” what was meant to be happened just as it was meant to happen. To me, it’s a breath-taking story of faith and grace and listening to that inner prompting, that quiet whisper from God. But, others don’t see it that way…..

 

Last night Primero went to the bathroom and the Pastor began to ask me a question about the paperwork but the Pastora interrupted him, impatiently putting her hand on his forearm. “You know he has a problem right?” She asked me.

In my mind I’m thinking, “Um, I thought we just fixed his problem?” Instead I said, “What do you mean?”   

“He’s feminine.” I opened my mouth to respond and she declared, “He’s fruity.” Oh, that. “I mean, would you really adopt him at his age? He will be a man in three more years. Just do legal custody. You will have problems with him when he is older, this demon inside of him will come out.” And before I could respond Primero was returning from the bathroom and the topic turned back to the paperwork. And my heart turned to dust.

 

Am I blind? Can I not see the imperfections in this child through the haze of love I feel for him? He’s not perfect, I know that! He’s broken countless pairs of headphones, lost the $50 track shoes I bought him a half size too big so he could wear them again next year, he lost two inhalers, and yesterday lost his house key. He’s irresponsible and glib about losing the things he loses. He barely passed this year in school and was nonchalant in completing his school assignments unless it was related to art or chorus. He stays up too late and curses a lot (he doesn’t use super-foul language in front of me but things like “hell” and “damn”) and he’s a picky eater who loves sweets and junk food above all. His phone is glued to his hand and he watches inappropriate anime cartoons. So, basically, he’s a teenage boy! I know, as my mother has told me, I cannot love away his past or make up for the pain he has had in his life. I know that. And I know that many times love cannot overcome the painful past these kids in foster care have had to endure. But, this kid just wants a mother. He wants someone to mother him, to fuss over him and make sure he’s doing the right things even when he tries to slip under the radar. He wants someone to care about him, to worry about him, to make him clean his room and do his homework. He just wants a mother. And isn’t it funny that I happen to be a woman who wants to have a child to fuss over, to care about, to make sure they are doing the right things, to make them do their homework and clean their room? When people tell me things about Primero all I can think is, “How is it that you cannot see how special he is?” I’ve had experience with an older child in foster care and it was horrendous. The things that happened to her in her young life made her very hard to live with and her behaviors were beyond my ability to parent. I could see the irrevocable damage done to her and, without a drastic change in her heart, I saw no hope in a brighter future. But, that’s not what I see in Primero. His case worker once told me that she thought he had been on his best behavior because he didn’t want to change homes again, but I think it was because he finally saw hope. He finally found someone who didn’t look at him and label him as “fruity” or “effeminate” or “gay” but someone who loves his quirky personality, his big heart, and his openness. He found someone who loves him not for what he is but for who he is and he is beginning to blossom – he managed to pull up all his grades and he will pass this grade in school. He is well-behaved and minds his manners and he is respectful to me. Maybe it is because my expectations for an older child in foster care are for the same hard-headed, disrespectful, set-in-their-ways attitude problems like the girl I had two years ago. But, that’s not Primero. Do I get irritated at the things he has lost? Yes, I do. Does it bug me that he cusses and watches anime laden with sexual innuendos and double entendres? Um, yeah! It bugs me a whole lot. But, I cannot expect to take umpteen years of bad habits and turn them on their ears overnight! I’m working on these things with Primero, but he’s the kind of kid that if you hit him square between the eyes with things it will only serve to make him do that thing more. It takes a subtle approach and coaching to get him to change his ways and this is not the fast way of doing things! If I down right outlaw things, he will just start shutting me out. If I let him tell me about it and express a distaste for it, he slowly loses interest. It’s a learning curve that we are both on together, but thank you for judging me and him and us. I don’t think I published the post I wrote about how judged I felt during our church retreat a few weeks ago and this feeling is growing. The church I attended as a teenager had the same issue and it eventually chased me away. I sure know I’m not perfect and I don’t take kindly to the holier than thou types who constantly remind me of my imperfections. Because, news flash here, they aren’t perfect either! So, Primero is fruity? Should I kick him to the curb because he’s not perfect and not manly enough? Yes, I’m sure that’s what Jesus would have done, He would have denied this child the loving relationship he craves simply because he was effeminate. I’ve talked about this before, I’ve worried about this before and I came to the conclusion that even if Primero does come out and declares he is gay (which he has not done and in fact vehemently denies) it won’t change how I feel about him. I love him regardless. I love him unconditionally. If I couldn’t do that, I have no business being his mother. Here’s another way to look at it – if I don’t take this kid in who will? What will become of him, if he languishes in foster care with no real family ties? Does a teenage boy not need a mother because he will be 18 in another couple of years? I surely still needed my parents when I was 18 and 19 and 20 and even until I was 22 and graduating college. Heck, up until my mom got sick, I would still call my parents with my little issues to get their opinions on things. Doesn’t Primero deserve that? He wasn’t with me for long when he was already telling me I was more like a mother to him than his past foster mother or even his biological mother. What does that tell you? It tells me how starved he was for that mother-son relationship, how he missed that more than he realized and how content and grounded he felt once he finally made that connection.

 

All of this makes my heart hurt. Just like I wanted to scoop him up out of the hospital bed after the awful urologist jammed the catheter in him, I want to wrap him in a big bear hug now and kiss away all the pain. I know I can’t. And he is getting to the age where I have to sheath my claws and let him fight his own battles. But, when I remember watching him sleep, he looked like such a little boy, so sweet and innocent, demanding nothing but love – I want him to forever stay that way. I know the world has already left its mark on him – he has visible scars from the abuse he suffered. But, for the next 3 ½ years I want him to feel nothing but kindness, I want him to fully recover from the nastiness of the world so he can go back out there stronger than ever. Right now he deserves gentleness and acceptance. I can’t stem the tide of world, I cannot hold back the waves of unpleasantness from crashing on our heads – that’s life. But, I can buffer as much as possible, keep at bay the worst and the nastiest. And I will do that, as much as I can. Even if he’s fruity.