Baby Formula

Maria Guadalupe says that she was happy when she learned Ponciano was going to be a father, but that she was also sad, because she thought it meant he'd stay in the United States forever. Now she hopes he'll be able to bring the granddaughter she's never met to Mexico. "I wish he could come back. I want to see him. I want him to be here, and I want my granddaughter here. This is their home."

That's what Ponciano wants as well. His attorney, Clara Romero, whom he hired in July because he didn't think his court-appointed attorney was working hard enough for him, recently filed a motion in Denver District Juvenile Court asking that Rosa be placed in her grandparents' home in Rancho el Mezquitillo. Romero says that since Ponciano's fitness as a parent will be up for discussion later this month, he might have a better chance this way. "No one's arguing that the grandparents are unfit," she says.

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Ponciano had heard about the American dream.

It's what lured him to Los Angeles ten years ago. But he quickly learned that the dream doesn't come true for everyone. "To make the kind of money I heard about, I would have to work day and night," he says through a translator.

A series of restaurant jobs failed to pay off -- wages weren't keeping up with the rent in California -- and selling crafts on the side didn't supplement his income enough to enable him to send money to his family. So in 1993 Ponciano moved to Denver, where one of his brothers had previously lived (that brother and another still live in California).

Here he found a steady, decent-paying job; for the last three years he's worked for Emerald Isle Landscape, where he is now a foreman supervising between three and six employees, depending on the job. Rory Lamberton, Ponciano's supervisor, says he is a model employee who shows up to work on time every day. "He's really reliable, and he's a really hard worker," Lamberton says. "He's quiet and has a good attitude. He's just a good guy."

In addition to finding good work in Denver, however, Ponciano also found trouble. In 1994 he was arrested for trespassing; in 1996 he was arrested for solicitation of prostitution and for driving without insurance; in 1997 he was arrested for drinking in public; in 1998 he got a DUI; and in 1999 he got a second DUI. In all of these cases, Ponciano pleaded guilty, and in all of them, except for the two DUIs, he either paid fines or served time. At an October hearing, he will ask a judge to let him withdraw his guilty pleas on the DUI charges.

Ponciano met Priscilla Gonzales, who was born and raised in Pueblo, shortly after he arrived in Denver. They lived in the same apartment building near Sheridan Boulevard and Sixth Avenue. Ponciano says they had talked about getting married and starting a family in the future, but the young couple didn't plan on having a baby so soon.

Nevertheless, he says, "I felt I was always in acceptance of my responsibilities as a father. I had been around newborns before, and I'd experienced that joy."

He and Gonzales say they broke up last summer because their caseworker advised them that Ponciano would have a better chance of getting Rosa back if they weren't seeing each other.

"I don't want her in foster care," Gonzales says. "I have no problem with Ponciano having my daughter. I'd rather him have my daughter, because I don't have a chance of getting her."

Ponciano agrees. "I don't want the family that has her now to raise her. I believe my baby will be better off in Mexico because she'll be with my mother all the time. My brothers and sisters in Mexico live happy; that's the way life for her should be: happy. Over there, life is very calm. Here life moves very fast. I see young girls here who grow up too quickly," he says from his apartment in Aurora.

Ponciano's second-floor unit is an oasis in the run-down apartment complex off East Colfax Avenue. Children run barefoot and unsupervised up and down the stairs. Some tenants leave their doors open, and a glimpse inside reveals dirty dishes left on countertops and clothes strewn across the floor. The odor of rotting food wafts out onto the terrace.

But Ponciano's sparsely furnished apartment is clean. Like his parents' house in Mexico, everything has its place. Toys are lined up neatly against the wall; baby lotion rests on the kitchen counter; in the room where Rosa sleeps when she visits are more toys, diapers, a changing table and a crib. Pictures of Rosa hang on his walls and fill his photo albums.