baptism, naming ceremony, dedications, etc...

What do you do when your partner is not of the same faith as you?  After you get over that hurdle, what happens when the baptism (or insert other religious baby dedication ceremony here) is denied to you because you're an unmarried couple with a child out of wedlock?

I was raised Catholic.  I did the whole nine yards, almost: I was born to Catholic parents, was baptized when I was 6 months old, had my first communion at 7 years of age, and was confirmed in the faith at 15.

My beautiful mother at her own first communion in Dominican Republic, circa 1964.

 As most every teenager, I fell off the religion wagon, but came back to it after college full force.  I guess, at that time, I was more interested in trying to arm myself with the information necessary to prove to myself that what I believed was right.  Looking back, I know realize that it was more important to prove to myself that it was the right fit for me, because I could not rationally think through and assess that Catholicism was RIGHT.

However, coming from a very Hispanic family, Catholicism is not something that you do on Sunday; it is imbued into almost every aspect of family life, at least any aspect wherein morality could dig its claws.  I certainly never grew up to think that I would have a "bastard" or "illegitimate" child and I never thought that Catholicism could one day stop playing such a pivotal role in my life.

The turning point came one day when I was told, flat out, by a priest, if I would be willing to live as brother and sister with Billy until we were married, or at the very least, until Desmond was baptized.  For several months before Desmond was born, we had talked about my desire to have Desmond baptized as a Catholic.  Billy's mom was raised Methodist and still attended a Methodist congregation in Salt Lake City.  Billy's dad was raised a Catholic, but wasn't practicing anymore (he was raised as a Catholic in the 60s, when the sound of the rosary beads clacking together down a school hallway was enough to terrify any small child.  I don't blame his decision to not practice anymore...Catholic educators back then gave children nightmares.)  However, Billy himself was not raised according to any particular faith and therefore, had no inclination to baptize his child.  But, since it was important to me, he would do it.

I remember that he kept on asking me why it was so important to me to have Desmond baptized in a religion where I was feeling lukewarm at best.  The only clear answer I could give him was that it was important to my family and part of the Hispanic culture.  Plus, it was the only thing that I had ever known.  He let it go and acquiesced.  I wanted to have Desmond baptized by the time he was 6 months old, just like I was and just like my mother was before me.  I decided to have the baptism at a Catholic church in New Castle, where my uncle Angel (also Desmond's godfather) lived.  Additionally, all of his godparents lived in the vicinity or a quick flight away, so for them to come and congregate for the baptism would be easier than trying to do it from SLC.

When I called the first few churches in town, they turned me away simply because I wasn't a member of the parish or because the dates they had available didn't coincide with the dates that I had wanted.  When I finally found a church that was willing and able to baptize Desmond, the receptionist asked if both my husband and I were Catholic.  Used to having people refer to Billy as my husband, I didn't correct her and said no, only I was Catholic.  She then asked if Billy was a baptized Christian, and I answered in the negative.  There was a long pause.  Then she asked if we were married in the Catholic church and I said, "No, ma'am, we're actually not married yet.  We're engaged."  There was a long silence.  I could just imagine this older lady sitting in front of a desk, surrounded by religious iconography, wearing the requisite cross on her chain, and having her head ready to explode at what she was hearing.  She brusquely said, "Well, then, you're going to have to talk with Father so-and-so about baptizing your son.  I can't make that call for him.  Here's his number."

I left the conversation feeling slightly embarrassed and a little bit sad.  I know that I don't fit the model Catholic vision of an adult woman in a relationship with a child, but I believed that this church, MY church, was understanding and didn't turn away babies from its community because of the so-called sins of his parents.  I dialed the priest's number.  I explained our situation once again, this time coming clean at the get-go of what our situation entailed.  "Would you be willing to live as brother and sister until you got married in the Catholic Church?"  "Um, no, I don't think that would be feasible, since our wedding isn't for another year and a half."  "Well then, would you be willing to live as brother and sister until the baptism?"  I thought about it and seriously considered lying to him and telling him that yes, oh yes, Father, I would try my hardest to live in a state of grace with my boyfriend, father of my son, until you baptize Desmond and his sin slate will be wiped clean.  But then I thought about it and decided that #1, what he was asking us to do was REALLY easy for a priest to say, #2, I am not embarrassed about my "situation" with Billy, and #3, why am I fighting so hard to make my church accept my child when my heart and soul wasn't really into it to begin with?

"I don't think that's going to work, Father.  Thanks for your time."  Click.  There.  You just lost a potential member of the church.

As you could probably tell, I'm still pretty hurt and resent what that particular priest asked of me.  I know that for every one priest like him, there may be several others who would have welcomed us with open arms, but it was just the kick in the ass that I needed to reassess my spiritual state and to assess the role that religion will play in my life and in the life of my family.  Did I want to blindly follow the Catholic religion just because my family did it and it's a huge part of my culture?  Did I want to be a part of something that didn't want to be a part of me?  I decided that I wanted to make my life more meaningful and, although I still needed and wanted the community and order that organized religion gives, it wasn't with the Catholic church anymore.

I knew that I wanted to be a part of a community that accepted me (unmarried, with child) and everyone else (gay, lesbian, Muslim, Atheist) into their fold.  I found that with the Unitarian church.  It's a creedless church and teaches you to just be a good person and make positive change and leave a wonderful impact during your time here on earth.  That appealed to me.  I enjoyed the sermons PLUS they offered a nursery for Desmond!  We decided that this was the perfect "church" to have Desmond grow up in and therefore, had him "dedicated" as a Unitarian. 

The Unitarian minister was really nice and wrote a whole service centering on Desmond's personality and abilities.  It was really lovely.

The ceremony was held in the backyard of my aunt and uncle's house in New Castle.

Desmond kept eating the candle and rose petals.

I had my closest family and friends celebrate with us.  Even though the majority of them were Catholic, I feel that they supported my decision and were happy to share in and commit to the spiritual and physical growth of Des.

At the start of the post, I hesitated to write about religion; I don't want it to seem that I'm bashing or praising any particular religion over the other to get you to convert or think badly about Catholicism or Unitarianism or anything else.  I respect all faith, especially Catholicism, since I've seen how happy it's made my mother and other friends.  However, it makes me feel good to know that if there's any one single person out there trying to make the same decision that I had to make, they wouldn't feel alone and that any decision that makes you feel happy and good is the right decision for your family.

My brother John, his girlfriend Katie, me, my uncle Gabriel (he flew in from the DR), Sherrie, and Jen at the after party.

This is right before we all watched, me in embarrassment, as my crazy mother began her dancing spree.