Thoughts on Adoption
By Joel Barrera

For Mari and me, adoption seemed natural and right. But I was three years behind her.

When Mari's biological clock started ticking, I was unsure I was ready for children. When Mari began frequenting the doctor's office to find out why we were infertile, I didn't want a doctor poking and prodding me. When Mari adamantly opposed taking fertility drugs, I thought we shouldn't close the door on treatments so soon. While Mari longed to adopt a child, I fretted about the cost.

Men are like that - slow to engage in emotionally wrenching decisions. Eventually, however, I grew accustomed to the idea, talking to friends and family members who had adopted, reading articles and books on the subject and going to our first adoption seminars.

Mari and I will soon celebrate our first "Gotcha Day" with our beautiful daughter, Milagros Otalia Margarita Barrera. Every name means something. Milagros is Spanish for "miracles," which she has been in our lives. Otalia is my mother's name, and Mila is the first of more than 20 grandchildren to carry her name. Margarita is the name given her at the Ecuadorian orphanage, after the wonderful woman who runs the home. And Barrera because she is part of our family forever.

At last year's Open Door Society convention, we were trying to make a final decision and had already begun exploring various adoption agencies. That day, we met a couple that had just begun a home study with Alliance for Children, and Mark and Jana gave high praise to the agency's social workers and, especially, shared their excitement about the Ecuador program. Within weeks, we were invited to a reunion of Ecuadorian families with the director of the private orphanages in Ecuador.

I remember the shock of seeing more than 50 families who came on short notice to hear from Maria Jose. Kids were everywhere, and the director remembered them all. Since I speak Spanish, I struck up a conversation with Maria Jose, who asked us whether we wanted a boy or a girl. I told her Mari, who had longed for a child for so many years, would like to start with a girl. Immediately, Maria Jose told us about a pretty and healthy girl, Margarita, who had just come into the orphanage in Quito a few days before.

We had waited years to make the decision, and then it came in a whirlwind. Because Maria Jose had informally made a match, the home study was completed in record time and by June we had Milagros' picture. For a week, Mari took it with her from room to room in the house. Five days before we were scheduled to travel to Quito, the volcano erupted a few miles from the orphanage and stopped all international flights into the city. We flew to the Ecuadorian coast and made our way to Quito.

We spent two weeks in Quito living in the orphanage and getting to know the caretakers. What a great trip! We ate authentic Ecuadorian food, cooked elaborate meals with the staff and learned a few recipes from Margarita. We got to know Milagros' routine and diet. We played soccer, sang, and read books with the children of the orphanage. Most of all, we spent quiet hours and days with Milagros as we became her parents.

The children are loved in the Quito orphanage, without doubt. Milagros' primary caretaker was Amparo, whose name means "shelter," and Amparo was jealous of us when we got there. The most special moment in Quito came halfway during the trip, when Mari and Amparo cried and cried on the stairs after Amparo gave us her blessing as Milagros' family. It is a scene that will be with me always.

The miracles keep on coming every day, every week. We have opened up our world to the new experience of parenthood, and also to the special gifts and responsibilities of an international adoption.

We are part of a community here. We recently had an Ecuadorian picnic at our home and a half dozen families with children from Ecuador came over; Mark and Jana brought Camila, who has become so verbal. Rafael, a toddler in Quito, was adopted by friends who live less than one mile away. Another small boy, Carlitos, has learned English in just a few months and changed his obsession from balls to ice hockey. And Paola, who is six, has found a home with a family in Walpole and has a teenage sister adopted from Ecuador more than 10 years ago.

As I see Mila thrive and grow, I am fascinated with the way young children constantly stretch themselves, developing new skills and showing little fear about new situations. As adults, too often we lose that sense of self-development and seek to stay in zones of emotional comfort. To my mind, our infertility was a blessing because it pushed us out into an uncomfortable and awkward emotional space and made us grow, in the end, as people and parents.