This is the very first image I have impressed on my mind of you, little boy. Isn’t your grandma beautiful? The first thing you wanted to do on “gotcha day” was wear her sunglasses and be held by anyone who would hold you. You are five years old, but you surely don’t act like it. We are five months into our family and you are still the one most in need of attention…the one most in need of structure…the one most in need of rocking and touching and a firm hand. You very well may be the closest thing to a baby that I ever get to mother. If you are to be the youngest of our little band–you definitely fit the profile.

I am not sure what things were done to you as a baby. I am not sure where all of the many scars you have came from. And that breaks my heart. Sometimes, I will sit and trace over your skin and just wonder!!! I know that you were taken from your birth-mother when you were three days old. I know that unlike the other children you have no memories other than those from Club Michin. I know that you have never been parented for any amount of time, outside of the orphanage. I know that you built a little make believe world for yourself in the orphanage. You lived inside of that world to protect yourself, and to hope for the future. Your psychologist said that when you found out about Adam and me, you were so excited to have a daddy come and rescue you from the “castle.” No wonder you are absolutely obsessed with the doll houses and fairytale items we have.

Juan Pablo, my love grows for you every day. You are one of the sweetest, cutest, most loving children I have ever known. You want to act like a big boy. You want to help me and follow me–even to the bathroom (yes, that is where I draw the line). Just recently, you have started to write your alphabet letters without me asking you to. You have almost all of your sounds down. Now you are working on writing–and I must say that your writing is very good. You are anxious to start school next year. But for now, you are super content hanging out with me while everyone else is at school. In fact, you get a little jealous if any of the other kids are home. It is really funny!

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must be honest with you. I promised to always be honest through this experience. There were many days during our time in Bogota that I wanted to hide myself away and never come out because of your behavior. There were many times when I felt like it would never get better. There are still days now that I call your daddy to cry on his shoulder at work because I feel so badly for the anger you feel toward your former situation. He has even had to come home early two or three times since we came home from Colombia. I am glad that we have started to see Miss Amy (your psychologist). She is wonderful. Hopefully, she will help us help you to work out your anger. I am anxious to have you see her more regularly. You love her–she gives you candy and she speaks Spanish. :)

When we first received you, your tantrums were every day–sometimes twice a day. They eventually slowed to every other day or so. Now, although there is no stopping the the rage when it starts, we are going 10 days to two weeks between episodes. That is an amazing improvement in just a few months. The most positive part to your improved behavior is that we can talk you down more often. We are working on the difference between how babies act and how big boys act. That has really helped. So has tightening up your structure. The other kids do not need it as much as you–but it benefits all of you, for sure.

I love you, little boy. Your dad and I still feel it a privilege to parent you and your siblings. We know that our family is blessed because of our decision to bring you home. And there has never ever been a moment that I wanted to send you back. I think your future is bright. We have a lot of work to do–but it will pay off in the end. You are, and always will be, completely worth it. Your smile lights up our home. Your cuteness lights up our day. Your spirit lights up our lives.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about just how infertile I really am. Distance and time from pregnancies, as well as recent conversations with friends, have helped me gain additional perspective on this topic. My conclusion is that even though I am medically and technically labeled “infertile,” I am SO not infertile. Let’s review:

4.5 Years of trying

4 miscarriages

1 ectopic pregnancy

1 partially blocked right tube

1 misshapen uterus

And still I could most likely have a successful pregnancy, if I really wanted to. I think I have a few issues related to fertility, but compared to those I consider truly infertile, my journey has been a walk in the park. I believe the badge of infertility should only be given to those who have truly earned it. It is a laborious and heart-breaking trial to endure. And I don’t think it is proper or fair for me to categorize myself along side women I know personally, and from a distance, who have endured and struggled for a decade or longer with no results. I have decided to give myself 10 faithful years of trying before I categorize myself as a true infertile.

In my very humble opinion, one-two-three-four miscarriages does not deserve the badge. Neither does a few years of trying. Do you know what makes me truly insane? Here’s a list:

Pregnant teenagers. Women who try and “relate” as they sit next to you with four little bio munchkins on their lap, the diaper give-a-way and expectant mother sign-in sheet in Relief Society. Overstatements of how long someone has actually been trying. Overstatements of how many miscarriages someone has had so that their struggle seems greater than it really is. Young married girls who think they are infertile after only being married six months or so with “no success!!!”

I could go on, but it is Christmas. I am grateful that I have wonderful examples around me like Jessica and Lisa and others. Jes has been my friend for 25 years now. She has seen it all on the fertility front the past ten years, as she has struggled to become a mother. And she remains a pillar of strength for those of us just beginning this unchosen journey. This Christmas season I am grateful that her son Georgie (in heaven) finally has a little brother to fill his mother’s empty arms. An adoption miracle, truly!!! Tis the season.

18 weeks have passed since the day we picked our children up. This picture was from  the first night in Bogota before we moved into the apartment. Many of you will recognize the Zuetana room and bed–oh, how I loathe that bed. I was thinking back to that first night as a family. Here is what I remember most:

1. all the kids wanting to sleep in our room…which is one of the only times we have ever caved to them :)

2. Wompy calling out for Papa in the middle of the night. I will never forget that sad worried little voice as he cried out for us. It was as if he was afraid it was all a dream.

3. Daniela’s skinned up face. It looked as though we beat her. (good thing we only had her for a day at that point)

4. The water play. Oh, how I am grateful that they now realize water is always available to them when needed.

The joy these last four months of motherhood has brought me far outweighs the fitful moments of childhood. I know that most parents feel this way about their children no matter how they gained their respective family. But this week, as we pass our four month anniversary, I cannot convey in words the amount of love I feel for each of my children. It is as though they were meant for us. When I look at our recent family picture, I don’t see our adopted children. I don’t see Colombians with American parents. I don’t see anyone missing or out of place. I just see our children. I am amazed that it has only taken me four months to feel this way. Love is an amazing force!

And we are a normal family, Spanglish and all. Last night, I was out doing some Christmas shopping. When I left the house, Adam asked the kids what they wanted to play. The two grandes got together and came over to daddy. In Spanglish they said, “you know dad, we want to play that game where we jump on top of each and try and get you on the ground.” Adam’s like, “Oh, you want to wrestle, huh?” They said, “yeah, yeah.” Then the picanos chimed in, “yeah.” Adam said they wrestled for about 20 minutes and he pinned them all four to the ground simultaneously. The best part is that he was smiling the whole time he recounted the story to me. When he finished I said, “Yeah, and they waited until mom was out of the house, didn’t they?” :)

We received the most amazing and glorious news today. One of my besties, Jessica, got “the call” and is off with her husband to pick up their new baby boy tomorrow. Jes and Dan have been married for 10 years now. Their first adoption (sweet baby George) seems like ages ago. Georgie’s life was taken by cancer when he was just a few months old. After many years of trying “stuff” they now have the opportunity to raise a second son. Our hearts and our hands are overjoyed. In fact, my heart is pounding really fast right now and my legs have goosebumps. My fingers feel prickly, and I can’t stop talking Adam’s ear off about the whole thing. How will I ever sleep tonight?

Since this adoption is somewhat open, I hesitate to post too many details here to protect all parties involved. But I had to give a giant shout out before they board the plane tomorrow. There are many friends here in Las Vegas that know of Jessica and Dan’s story…and I thought you would all want to share in the joyous news.  I just got off the phone with Jes for the second time tonight, and she is ecstatic. I have not heard that much joy in her spirit since Georgie. It is like coming home, isn’t it Jes?

The McCrackens in Las Vegas will be praying for your safe return.

Fall is my most favorite time of year…sipping hot chocolate, crunching leaves beneath my feet, the feel of brisk air on my face. (I know, I live in Las Vegas–but a girl can live in her memory, right?) It is a truly glorious time of year, in my opinion. November, however, is difficult for me. This November is the third anniversary of my very first due date. In other words, it is the third “birthday” of our first miscarriage. I don’t really remember due dates and the like of other pregnancies. But the first one, I do. And, as both a good friend and sister have boys that turn three within a month of my first due date, I will always be reminded. 

This November has been especially hard. Now, I’m not talking about the crying every day, not able to function, sinking into a black hole kind of hard. :) It is just that last Thanksgiving weekend we conceived our fourth and most recent unborn baby. (kudos to Brianhead, UT–tmi, I know) It was a wonderfully relaxing weekend with friends–full of hot chocolate, fireplaces, and games–a favorite memory of ours. And since it is a favorite memory, I think of it often. So this November I not only thought of our first little guy, but also our fourth. What else happened this November? Umm, best friend #1 finally ”announced” and started to “show” (for which I am very grateful–you know I am). Best friend #2 lost two more potential adoption referrals–reminding me once again how unfair this world really is. And, on the very day that I happened to unpack a box, which housed a few items that I actually saved from the nursery (a blessing blanket, little “I love daddy” booties, and a giraffe picture that I can’t seem to part with) I got a phone call from another friend with “the news.” Actually, Adam had to come home early and rescue my sanity after that one. I was in a puddle of tears with no end in sight.

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Phew! I am really glad this November is over. I am so grateful for Danny, Ezzy, Nikki, and Wompy. They bring me much joy. I know I posted these pics on the family site, but I can’t resist their adorableness. And as Marisa’s daughter, Lainey, said–they really are starting to look like us, don’t you think?