The road to motherhood meant offering up my blood, my sanity, and my heart.
My man and I had all but abandoned the dream of becoming parents after enduring a perfect storm of infertility: miscarriages, ectopic pregnancies, and a devastating failed adoption.
Within months, my American bravado and Greek/Mexican DNA emboldened me to live in Juárez, where I was painstakingly unprepared by the isolation and fear for my sons’ safety while I plowed through a labyrinthine adoption process. Yet my greatest challenges came from within as I confronted the reality of raising two traumatized boys and was rattled by the incessant question and doubt. Had I made the right choice?