~Midwife to the World~

Doula Love and Midwifery Education Day

2011-05-21T08:59:00.006-07:00

In the thick of the laboring night, a beautiful family I had the privilege of doula-ing for.
Know someone looking for a doula? Check out my profile at Mothertree Birth Services!

Saturday June 4th

2pm-4:30pm

Mint Tea
2014 Main St. Vancouver, WA 98660
360.699.4991

I'm hosting a midwifery education day at the cool little bistro Mint Tea!

I'll be showing the documentary "The Business of Being Born," and you will hear from 2 rad homebirth midwives serving families in SW Washington along with first hand stories from some lovely mamas and papas about why they chose to birth with a Certified Professional Midwife at home and at a free standing birth center. And, snag some coupons for free fancy cloth diapers from Cotton Babies! (while supplies last)

I wanted to have this event because I am passionate about educating the public about birth, options, and discuss the very real fact that our perceptions of birth are shaped by our culture, fear, media.

There is a serious shortage of midwives in Washington state, especially the Vancouver area, and because this is my community where I want to serve as a midwife (somewhere in Southern Washington...the gorge is my most favorite place in all the world. And there are no midwives there as far as I can tell.)

I want to create a space where families can be honest, vulnerable, ask questions, and gain insight.

If all goes well this time around I will host an event like this again next month showing another birth related documentary and holding a discussion around it.

So come on out June 4th ! Spread the word.

xoxo

From Bones to Full Bloom

2011-05-05T11:33:00.006-07:00

I just noticed that this tree in the backyard has become green and lush and exploded practically overnight!

Where there was bare bone branches, now there is bursting leaves of green life.
It was a sharp, spiny, barrenness.
A skeleton of a tree. Now, verdant emerald five-leafed fingers of greenery.
SPRING is HERE.

The rhythms of these seasons, so much like the process of birth.
Where there was nothing
but a promise of something.
Then the "something" unfolds into everything.
New life.
Three mamas in my community at my church,
full-of-promise, full of life
have birthed the fullness of life in the past week (one in the thick of labor, the process of blooming, as I write this).

And I'm on my way out the door to go to another mamas blooming right now...

May 5th: Happy International Day of the Midwife!

How WIDE are the gates of normal

2011-05-03T14:33:00.009-07:00

Just woke up from doula-ing at an amazing birth. A long fought for baby. This mama truly dug down deep and found those inner reservoirs of strength, and opened her body and spirit wide to bring a new human (a very adorable little human, I must say), into the world.
Earthside.
I love that when she was pushing, the midwife said "you are being initiated. From Maidenhood to Motherhood." And truly, this mama was.
Of course, EVERY birth is amazing. And every birth is so, so incredibly different. Even as I'm reading and studying my midwifery textbooks, the reality of birth makes me see that we play a losing game when we try to fit birth into a narrow time-limit, protocol, box. The gates of normal pregnancy and labor are WIDE. Because each mama, each baby, is different.
Each woman's birth is unique to her own body, and mental and emotional state.
I truly believe that labor is largely mental and emotional. Who truly knows or can tap into what each individual women needs to work through,
learn,
open up to,
see,
experience,
fight for,
embrace,
acknowledge,
get past,
move towards,
let go of
in her labor. In her whole childbearing year!
And how much do we as care-providers strip away from a woman when we try to control her birth?
Even as a doula, I try to be aware of when I need to change the vibe. Back off. Get closer. Leave the room. Maybe I can be too encouraging. Too calm. Maybe this mama needs a kick in the butt (figuratively speaking) to really get serious about birthing this kid!
It's such intuitive work, birthing and being a part of birth. When do I counsel and when do I just stay quiet? Am I comfortable with silence? Am I comfortable with crying?
Maybe a mama just needs a good long, hard cry to let that wall that's holding her back crumple to the ground.
I've seen that happen.
No, birth is not packaged up neat and tidy in a textbook, class, or box.
Nothing will really prepare you for the raw, hilly, maybe mountainous journey that is birth.
Like life, birth takes trust, caring supporters, faith, intuition, and openness to what may come.

Blossoming: April Showers Bring May Babies, Placenta Plum Trees, and Flowers

2011-04-28T13:32:00.011-07:00

The past few weeks:
New life blooming...lots of busy prenatal days with blossoming mamas. On-call now for a couple of anticipated births.

Sun showers, fresh flowers, new glorious color, SUNSHINE!..
Farmer's Market in full bloom. We rode down on our bikes on the first 70 degree day of the year. Lovely.

Spring in the NW.
We appreciate it more here since it is gray and rainy 80% of the year. But when the sun starts coming out, it brings the city to life again.

Planting, growing, budding, blooming...
Emmaus's plum tree we planted with his placenta on his 9 month birthday! The neighbors came over to join in the blessed occasion.

Placenta in the hole!

Emmaus helped throw in the dirt.And he really liked to eat the dirt.Shawn is reading him the blessing that he wrote for him on the day of his birth.But Emmaus just really wanted to swing from the branches of his plum tree.Our back yard.
Re-birth, digging in the dirt for the first time in my life!
My farm-girl roommate thinks it's hilarious that this is the first time I've planted anything. Ever. We planted 2 different kinds of peas, kale, spinach, more kale, all kinds of stuff...

Betsy and Shawn built that chicken coop. Pretty sweet. It's amazing to me that out of these tiny seeds we get a CROP of amazing food.

I'm such a city girl, I didn't even know how potatoes were grown until 2 years ago.

The Sexuality of Birth: Baby In, Baby Out

2011-04-18T09:35:00.009-07:00

No this blog post isn't meant to be crazy or controversial. I know that talking about "sexuality" and "birth" seems outrageous to some, or it may seem like a moot point and even too risque to talk about in the same sentence. But as Ina May points out, we like to forget that women give birth with the same anatomical parts that are engaged in the sexual act that got the baby in there in the first place. It's a fact of life people! And Ina May is just so wise, so matter-of-fact about it, that one wonders why we are embarrassed to acknowledge the normal, created physiology of our bodies.

Part of the reason we as women are so fearful to birth is that we have lost confidence in the normalcy of the birth process. That our bodies are MADE to do this.(I love this pic from the move "The Business of Being Born", that shows the very moment of a normal, uninterrupted, unmedicated, joyful birth)

I've been touting Ina May's new book because I feel like it's SO important for women, men, and care-providers to know and understand the very real and practical function of how a woman's body is made to respond to the birth process. And, how much we as practitioners can GET IN THE WAY of a woman having her baby.
We really can and do get in the way.
I love that Ina May is so practical. It would behoove us all to learn (and remember) these things.
There is much talk of "orgasm" during labor, and instead of it being sensationalized and something to "aim" for (like women need the pressure of not only giving birth, but having an orgasm as well! Obviously that's not the goal!) Here are some particularly pertinent excerpts from her book. Everyone should knows these things!!:

"There is plenty of evidence that the process of different hormones secreted by women's bodies during labor explains the phenomena described above (that when a woman feels frightened or threatened her labor can and will stop, or even reverse. Get the book if you want to read about the falsity of "failure to progress" and "uterine dysfunction" ;).

Adrenaline is the hormone that is active when a labor reverses itself or stops. Most people have some familiarity with the effects of adrenaline--it makes us stronger and faster, and it is the "fight or flight" hormone that is activated when we perceive danger. When adrenaline (catechalomine) levels are high in a laboring woman's body, her pelvic muscles will be tense, and she will experience much more pain than she would if someone were able to assuage her fears.

Most people know that oxytocin is a drug that is often given in synthetic form to women in hospitals to make labor stronger, or is given after birth to prevent or stop excessive bleeding. However, they are less likely to know that women's own bodies are capable of excreting oxytocin and that this endogenous oxytocin not only causes uterine contractions (and thus keeps labor moving along and prevents excessive bleeding after birth) but that it's associated with feelings of love, trust, gratitude, and curiosity. While synthetic oxytocin can be effective in stopping hemorrhage by causing the uterus to to contract, it does not induce feelings of love, trust gratitude, and curiosity in the way that the mother's own oxytocin does. In addition, synthetic oxytocin when used for strengthening labor causes more painful contractions that often lack the painless rest periods of unmedicated labor.
When adrenaline levels are high, oxytocin levels are low, and vice-versa. (these changes, by the way, can take place almost instantly). The women who reported feeling their cervices open when words of love and encouragement were spoken were responding to levels of oxytocin in their bloodstream.

Dr. Kerstin Unvas Moberg and her team in Sweden carried out some of the most useful research of the late 20th century in the area of maternal-infant behavior (see: Kerstin Unvas Moberg, The Oxytocin Factor: Tapping the Hormone of Calm, Love, and Healing (Cambridge, MA: Da Capo Press, 2003). Their work effectively demonstrated that people's oxytocin levels rise significantly when they share a pleasant, delicious, and unhurried meal together, and when they are in the process of falling in love. But the highest levels of oxytocin of all occur in mothers and their babies during the first hour just following birth (emphasis mine). This is the time of bonding, when mother and baby are programmed by nature to adore each other and share moments that neither will ever forget." (Note from me: what are things that we do in our treatment of the third stage of labor that interrupt this time that are actually causing more harm?)
"Such moments should only be interrupted for medical procedures when a true emergency occurs; interruptions should not be routine. Interestingly, when such important moments are allowed to unfold without interruption, the risk of postpartum problems in mothers and babies is reduced. babies breathe better and their heart rhythms are more regular when they have skin-to-skin contact with their mothers' chest. Mothers are less likely to hemorrhage in these circumstances as well.
Beta-endorphins are a third kind of hormone relevant to labor and birth. Beta-endorphins are nature's opiates, and they have powerful pain-numbing effects. When we expend alot of physical effort, beta-endorphin levels rise correspondingly. They also rise when we are warm enough and, most importantly, when we are feeling secure. Being in love and feeling sexually aroused are also associated with high levels of endorphins.
I am well aware of how skeptical people will be about the strength of beta-endorphins. Sports physicians, however, are well aware of the threat of reinjury when an athlete is playing well--the pain of reinjury might not be felt because of the beta-endorphin rise caused by strenuous and successful play. People who have had to free themselves from traps in ways that involve the need for self-injury often report that they could bear the pain--another example of the potential strength of endogenous beta-endorphins.
It is important to remember that fear and negative emotions inhibit a rise in beta-endorphins. This is one reason why whining does not alleviate labor pain, whereas moaning may. There is an important distinction between these two kind of vocalization. Moaning is a sound that may indicate pain, but may also indicate pleasure, and is consistent with relaxation (while opening the throat, relaxing face muscles); whining indicates complaint and self-pity, is high pitched, and doesn't happen during pleasurable experiences.

Beta-endorphins, combined with oxytocin, explain why some women--strange as it may seem to anyone who hasn't seen or experienced it--experience orgasm during labor or birth. Orgasm, of course, is an experience we almost exclusively associate with making love--so much so that some women become offended and upset even thinking about the possibility of having such an experience while giving birth. I think this kind of reaction has much to do with the fact that the medical model of birth has successfully wiped from most people's minds the obvious fact that women give birth with their sexual organ. Further confusion results because women in our culture are not taught that their vaginal tissues have the ability to swell in a way that is every bit as impressive (and surprising, viewed for the first time!) as the change in the flaccid penis when it becomes erect.
Every man knows that erection happens because of blood that is trapped in the penis. The penis enlarges far more than it could it if were forcibly and hurriedly stretched to it's maximum. The trouble is that women don't have such an obvious way of knowing that vaginas do fancy tricks too and that blood can suffuse the vaginal tissues in a similar way in order to easily allow the passage of a full-term baby without tearing. High levels of both endogenous oxytocin and beta-endorphins are necessary for such swelling. Obviously, such hormonal levels are not possible when women are in great pain, feel threatened, pressured, or being subjected to constant interruptions---just as men don't get erections when they are terrified or being threatened with sharp instruments.

Too many women have been exposed to the myth that when a baby passes through the vagina, that organ will be permanently stretched and ruined. It is true that vaginas can be badly injured when babies are pulled through with vacuum extractors or forceps, just as they can be injured by rape. However, when vaginas are treated well and not subjected to routine episiotomy or forced pushing, they swell impressively, since these tissues have the ability to hold large amounts of blood when the mother's labor has produced the ecstatic hormones of oxytocin and beta-endorphins.
(note from me: this is why the atmosphere of a laboring woman's space in which she is birthing is of the utmost importance. It's not just about lighting candles and playing soft music...it directly affect the physiology of her body and labor. People and strangers rushing in and out, yelling at her to push, etc....could you have a bowel-movement if someone were in your face yelling at you to push and holding your legs apart? I didn't think so ).
Under these circumstances, vaginas function marvelously in birth, and when they become small again, they are no more ruined than is a penis when it softens and shrinks following an erection."

From Birth Matters, by Ina May Gaskin

A different kind of midwife, and The David Mayfield Parade

2011-03-28T11:40:00.010-07:00

It's so, so good to be back home. Last week I got to be a part of a different kind of birth than I am use to. My roommate Betsy is a large animal vet who gets called out to farms in the area for all kinds of "large animal emergencies." I told her that I would love to help her out with anything birth related.I'm such a city-girl that I've never actually seen an animal be born.
Well I got my wish this week when she was called out to help a mama goat who had been in labor but wasn't progressing.
Betsy is no stranger to birthing a baby in a difficult position. You may remember Betsy from a post I did last year where I was her doula at her 70 hour (yes, I said 70 hour) labor. Her baby Emmaus was military ascynclitic, and birthing him was no small feat. She is still my hero. I had confidence she could help this goat.
We drove out to the farm prepared to possibly do a c-section on this poor goat. Or possibly pull a dead baby goat. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to.
We walked into the barn and found a BIG pregnant goat laying in the hay and moaning.

Dr. Betsy sprung into action with the scared farmer woman looking on. The poor woman was on the verge of tears. So during the goat mama's I.E, Betsy found that a goat was lying stuck in a transverse position blocking the other babies. She couldn't feel movement and wasn't sure if the babies were alive. Transverse position in a human baby means immediate c-section of course, but this goat mama was so HUGE and roomy that Betsy was able to manipulate the goats around into a hoof-first position. She told me to get a towel ready, and one by one pulled out 3 live, adorable, baby goats!
I don't have the actual action-shot birth pics cause I was too busy doing what Betsy was instructing me to do: vigorously rubbing the little goat bodies, picking them up by their hind legs and swinging them back and forth!!!..and taking a piece of hay and tickling their nostrils to stimulate breathing and sneezing to clear their airway.

Emergency goat birth is definitely different than human birth...although the irony was not lost on me. I guess in the 1950's it was normal practice for docs to pick babies up by their legs when they were born too.Yikes.

Anyway, The mama goat started licking her babies, the farmer woman and her 3 daughters were overjoyed. We were overjoyed. It was great.

The mama goat passed the bag of waters after the babies were out. That was interesting.

Baby goats are the CUTEST!!
So now I am a goat midwife as well.
When we got home Betsy's pager went off and we got a call to go help a poor sheep who had a prolapsed uterus! I was SUPER stoked to go do this, but last minute the farmer called and canceled. I guess he thought the placenta was the uterus. Betsy assured me that I will be able to see cow or sheep prolapsed uterus at some point. Yes!
Okay, I know. I'm weird.

In other news, every woman in my church is constantly pregnant, so I've been really happy to be bale to knit again. It was WAY to hot and crazy-busy in the Phils to knit. Here's some booties I made for my friend Sara's baby, Abe. I have the privilege of being her doula next month.

And this weekend I got to see the David Mayfeild Parade for free at Mcmenamins. We saw him twice. His band is THAT good. It was probably one of the best shows I've been to. Those Nashville guitarists really know how to work it. He is a CRAZY guitarist.Then at the end they had us all gather around as they sang a song acapella.Seriously, check 'em out if you haven't heard of them. They are going to be HUGE soon.

I'm off to the Midwifery Today Conference tomorrow. YAY! It's gonna be amazing.

“If a doula were a drug, it would be malpractice not to use it”

2011-03-14T23:03:00.006-07:00

Quote above from this great interview.
So, I am going to continue to offer doula services as I finish my midwifery training now that I am back in the Portland metro area.
And look!...I even made a handy-dandy tab on this blog that shows my doula services info., philosophy, and fees!
Looking for a doula or know of anyone looking? Feel free to pass on my info! I'll provide a phone number soon as well.

Davao, to Manila (15 hours), to Tokyo (earthquake), to HOME!

2011-03-13T05:36:00.007-07:00

I'm sitting here in bundled in blankets, in my beautiful hometown: the cold, crisp, lovely Portland, OR.

It is 5:37 am, and having been up all night after tossing and turning out of jet-lagginess, I decided to update.

I think the past 3 days have been the longest and most eventful of my entire life. After sitting in the Manila airport for 15 hours (not recommended), I caught a flight to Tokyo.

I was scheduled for a 2 hour layover. Not too bad. Just enough time to people-watch all of the uber-stylish Japanese teenagers and wish I had their fashion sense before catching my long awaited flight home.

They started boarding the business class seats as I was sitting in front of the giant window-wall looking out on the airplane/runway. All of a sudden a giant ROARing sound slowly started building, and the window in front of me started vibrating.

Then shaking.

Then rippling and waving.

The ROAR turned into people screaming just as I said to the girls sitting next to me, "Are we having an earthquake?!"

Blank stares.

It's bizarre how one's mind can't really comprehend at first something so shocking and out of the blue. Something so totally beyond your control.

I jump up and say, "We need to get away from the windows!" and grab my carry-on and my guitar. People are scattering in all different directions. The girls disappear into the crowd.

I think to myself "Just get under a doorway!"And then freeze when I realize: there are no doorways. Business men are dropping their suitcases and looking around frantically as they too, presumably, seek the coveted earthquake-proof doorpost.

It's bizarre how your own helplessness causes you do do interesting things, like stand frozen as the earth shifts under your feet,

and then literally laugh out loud as you say "Oh my god! Oh my god!" over and over. That's what I did next. Calm, cool, and collected, I was not.

I don't think I would have survived on the show LOST.

It felt like someone had picked up the Tokyo Narita Airport and was now shaking it like a snow globe. The ceiling cracked and pieces start falling down like gritty snow.

People are running, yelling, screaming.

I finally got my wits about me and forced my shaking legs to crawl under the seats in the terminal like I saw other people trying to do. I don't know why, I just didn't know what else to do and standing out in the open felt really vulnerable.

I hunker down next to a mid-30's Japanese woman and, I say out loud to her while laughing "oh my god!" and she says, "oh my god!" back to me.

Then (interesting again) I notice that she's wearing really cute boots. God forgive me for being so shallow as to notice a woman's cute boots in the middle of one of the biggest earthquakes in history.

The earth is roaring, lights on the ceiling are clinking and threatening to fall, the airplanes outside are swaying back and forth like giant rubber duckies in bath water. Glass breaks, ceiling tiles are still snowing all around...

Then slowly the shaking subsides, and we all stare at each other, whispering "oh my god," and force our shakey legs to stand. A very pregnant woman is trying to calm her very pale spouse.

1 minute later the t.v. monitors show live news-feed of the damage all around Tokyo. Buildings on fire, rubble.

The airport starts moving again only this time it feels like we are on a boat. Aftershock. I sit down in the ceiling snow on the chairs feeling a little sea-sick. People are crowding around the t.v. monitors.

Some security guards are frantically running through the airport yelling loudly in Japanese.

Can I just go HOME already??...

They continue to board our plane. We all get settled and buckled. 15 minutes later another earthquake hits. The plane starts it's swaying again like in really bad turbulence, only we are on the ground. People start saying "Not again!" and "Can we just get out of here?!" and the captain gets on the intercom and says, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. This is the safest place to be. Airplanes are made to withstand this kind of motion." And we all grip the seat murmuring our agreement.

So we sit.

Captain says, "Ladies and gentlemen, the ground crew is inspecting the runways to see if it is safe to take off. I think the best thing to do at this time is to hang tight. This is the safest place to be and if we were to get off the plane right now, we would just have to go through security and customs and immigration all over again. I will keep you updated on any new information."

We murmur our agreement.

And we sit. The stewardesses are really nice and they are placating us with lots of peanuts and drinks.

The guy next to me checking his i-phone just announces that a tsunami has hit the coast of Japan.

Captain says, "Folks, this is your captain. I've just gotten word that a tsunami has hit. The airport has been evacuated and as of right now the city of Tokyo has shut down., There is no transportation anywhere. No trains, the highways are shut down...we aren't sure at this time if we are going to be able to take off. The manager of the airport is coming to speak with me and I will keep you updated."

And we sit. It starts pouring down rain and thundering outside.

Throughout the plane people are starting to get a little panicky: "where will we go if we are evacuated? Are we going to just have to stand outside? What will we eat? If we are stuck in the airport there will be no food!"

I roll my eyes and think, "give me a break dude. You will miss like 2 meals. It's not going to kill you."

3 hours later: Captain says, "Folks, it looks like we are going to have to evacuate. Now, there is no security in the airport anymore, and you can just imagine that they aren't going to let us just walk through the airport with no security. We are going to have to go through the basement of the airport. I will keep you posted on how this is going to happen."

And we wait.

The stewardesses decide to give us our dinner. I decide I'm eating this sugary airplane food and I'm enjoying it! I was just in an 8.9 earthquake and I'm still alive! Life is too short to not enjoy this carrot cake!

After 4 hours and 3 aftershocks sitting on this runway, Captain says, "Folks, looks like 2 lanes have been opened and we are going to catch one of them. Please fasten your seatbelts and make sure your seat and tray is in an upright and locked position. We are going to taxi out and make our way to Portland, OR."

A GIANT collective cheer! goes up in the air.

Another collective cheer! as we pull up into the air. Then a strained silence as we all crane to look out the wondows and see NOTHING on the freeways below, and then a jumble of tiny carlights in a big pile.

I comment to the guy next to me that we are SO freaking lucky to have boarded the plane when we did. 5 minutes later and we would be with all those people stranded outside the airport. Who knows how long they are going to be stuck here in Tokyo? Who knows if there will be more aftershocks?

He says, "I feel bad...but I'm just too happy that we are on this plane." I agree.

After 9 long hours I land at PDX and have NEVER been so absolutely freaking happy to see Portland in my entire life. I am thrilled to see the guards, thrilled to see the homeland security guys. I'm chatting it up and smiling at everyone I see.

I step outside to taxi to the international terminal and for the first time in 7 months breathe in deep as the crisp, CLEAN, fresh, cold NW air fills my lungs. I see Mount Hood and the Columbia River. I think I'm going to cry.

I walk into the terminal and see a news crew, and see my 3 wonderful friends waiting to pick me up holding a giant gift basket with local beer, chocolate, coffee, and other goodies. I totally start crying when I see them and there are tons of hugs all around. I had NO phone on me this whole time and I had no way to contact them. They weren't even sure I was gonna be on the flight!

I managed to dodge the news crew. Here's the story they did.

My friend Erin took me to Por Que No and we ate tacos and drank sangria outside in the cold air and warm sun. I'm still processing everything but man, it's so good to be home.

Beauty From Ashes

2011-03-09T06:56:00.000-08:00

Marked by ashes

Ruler of the Night, Guarantor of the day . . .

This day - a gift from you.

This day - like none other you have ever given, or we have ever received.

This Wednesday dazzles us with gift and newness and possibility.

This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day, for we are already halfway home

halfway back to committees and memos,

halfway back to calls and appointments,

halfway on to next Sunday,

halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant,

half turned toward you, half rather not.

This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday,

but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes -

we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:

of failed hope and broken promises,

of forgotten children and frightened women,

we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;

we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.

We are able to ponder our ashness with

some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes

anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.

On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you -

you Easter parade of newness.

Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,

Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;

Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth.

Come here and Easter our Wednesday with

mercy and justice and peace and generosity.

We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.

Walter Brueggemann

Groanings

2011-03-02T19:13:00.003-08:00

“What are we going to do? Do you think I like doing this work? I have three children I can barely feed because I can’t find regular work anywhere. When you have nothing, what can you do?”

This world is groaning as in the pains of childbirth.

Faith and Trust: Take Two...

2011-02-26T15:16:00.006-08:00

Remember how a few posts back I asked the question, "What does it mean to trust God in the midst of confusion, uncertainty, crazy stress, etc. etc. etc..."
Well, I'm stepping off of some cliffs.
More details to come.

"You're not qualified."

2011-02-18T23:04:00.008-08:00

‎"Leave it all to us, we'll soon have you cured, you'll never know what hit you..."

It's amazing that Monty Python hit the nail on the head here.
Around the world, this is still totally relevant even after all these years.

Don't know whether to laugh, or cry.

Support your local midwife, and avoid the fetus frightening room.

What Love Really Means

2011-02-14T04:10:00.005-08:00

Wow, is it even humanly possible to get through this song without crying? Or at least getting a little teary?
Isn't this the question that every human being on this whole little planet is asking in every daily interaction, every conversation, every movement towards another person, whether or not that movement is a longing for intimacy or fueled by anger?
Ponderings for this Valentines Day...

Faith and Trust

2011-02-13T07:29:00.008-08:00

Life is tough.

That could be a huge understatement.
What does it mean to trust God in the midst of confusion, uncertainty, crazy stress, relational strain, helplessness, poverty, sleeplessness, the possibility of death..? all of these things touch my life on a daily basis.
I own nothing. I sold literally all that I own to come here volunteer at this birth center. I have my bike, a small box of books, and some winter sweaters to my name at home. I don't even own a bed. I live in a house, in a culture not my own, with 12 people who come from wildly different backgrounds, different age groups, walks of life. The stress of this cannot be understood until experienced. I was clueless.
Midwifery is a vocation bursting with fresh, wet, glorious life. A new babe born into your hands. 1 body becoming 2 in front of your eyes. It's a miracle of miracles. But the threat of death sometimes hangs behind your shoulder and breathes a little too close for comfort.
I'm not gonna lie...it's scary as hell when a woman's placenta comes out followed by a small tidal wave of blood that doesn't stop and soaks your scrubs as you and your assist massage her fundus and inject the pitocin. It's times like these I thank god for pitocin...and anyone who knows me knows that I usually don't thank the good Lord for medical interventions regarding the birth process.
I wonder again lately what does it actually MEAN to trust God. To grow, know fullness and life abundant, even when you are feeling like life is crazy.
God doesn't ever do what you think He is going to do...that is maddening. I came here believing I was going to be a midwife working in developing countries in 2 years time. At this moment in time I feel like I'm being led back to the states in 2 years to serve homeless pregnant women in Portland. This has sort of turned my world upside down. This whole experience here is turning my world upside down.
And with faith, it all comes down to love. Do I trust that in the midst of the shitstorm and fire of life, God loves...no, ADORES me and that I am in His hands? That people I love are in his hands and His hands are good, capable hands? Hands worth trusting?

I have a 13 year old cont right now who is 36 weeks pregnant. She came to prenatals this week with a big infected sore on her nose. Her neighbors told her it was an "evil spirit" that attacked her so she never went to the doctors. Finally when she got a fever she went to the hospital and the doctor told her "look, you can see here that a rat bit you." She got bit in the middle of the night by a rat. And she is 13 and pregnant.
I have another mama who might have to abandon her baby because of financial circumstances. These are "normal" choices that women have to make in a world where social structures and systems sometimes leave them no choice. And it breaks my heart.

If you know me outside of the context of this blog, you know that I have been through alot in my life. Still, these questions always come and always hit the very core of what I believe and why I live the way I do. The Christian God calls us to follow Him into the suffering, messy, gross, heartache of the world. Why? Because He is love. He is not ashamed of what we are ashamed of. He is not scared of the things that turn us off the most. His ways are not our ways, and thank god for that, because my ways are pitifully weak and mean-spirited and tiny.
God calls us out, because He wants us to "live and grow and unfold."
What would it mean to have unwavering confidence in the love of God? Not just an abstract "God is love and love is God" kind of way...but that there is one GOD of the whole wide world and this God adores ME! Died for me even. Just as I am.
That, as the song goes:
"It goes beyond religion to my very circumstance."
(50 points to the person who knows that song without Googling the lyrics).
What kind of trust would that inspire?
Could I throw myself off the cliff of my own fear?
Could I accept people fully and love them, just how they are, without having to change them? Could I rest in trial and suffering and know the "peace that surpasses all understanding?" (Philippians 4:7)

"Abba, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you. I am ready for all. I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me and all your people.
I wish no more than this, O Lord. Into your hands I commend my spirit.
I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for I love you, Lord, and I give myself, surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, with boundless confidence, for you are my Father."
~Charles de Foucauld

I pray for even the strength to pray for something like this.

17,000 Babies!

2011-02-07T22:25:00.009-08:00

(Ate Elsa, one of the midwives on staff here, with one of our anniversary signs...ooops typo! The sign is suppose to read 17,000! haha)

Today marks the 15th anniversary of Mercy Maternity Center, the charity-based birth center that I volunteer at here in Davao. MMC exists to provide compassion-based maternal healthcare to women living in severe poverty conditions. Mercy also serves as a clinical training site for students desiring to study midwifery within the context of a developing country. The primary focus of Mercy Maternity Center is to use midwifery skills as a way to show God's kindness and love to people in a practical and relevant way.

I had the privilege of being on shift when the 17,000th baby was caught! Yes folks, 17,000 babies have been born here at MMC.(l-r: my awesome supervisor Jobee, me, staff midwife Jane, a volunteer named Holly, staff midwife Mai-Mai, and a student from the area who is doing a short residency here)

17,000 new little souls born into the arms of 17,000 mamas! Amazing.
We are having a big anniversary party Friday night! May the Lord continue to bless all the midwives as they strive to serve the mamas here in Davao with Jesus' love and compassion.

And here I am doing a health teaching during prenatals last week on fetal development. We have prenatals every day of the week (mon-fri) with prayer/worship time, health teaching, and routine prenatal check-ups.I passed around this tiny model of a 14 week old fetus. The younger women thought it was really cool. The older women refused to touch it! I don't know if it freaked them out or what! :)And afterward doing prenatals.
I love doing prenatals. It's the time you can really get into the mamas lives, teach them about their health and the health of their baby, and really set the foundation for a good pregnancy, labor and birth. Just talking, connecting, hanging out and showing them how to feel the position of their baby, listen to their baby's heartbeat...it's such a privilege...even if language barriers do occasionally get in the way! :)*~Happy Anniversary MMC!~*

Kaya na nimo!

2011-02-03T20:41:00.014-08:00

This has been my mantra as of late. Not only do I say this about a bajillion times to my mamas when I'm laboring with them, but to myself as well. Life is crazy lately. I caught 5! babies last week alone! That means I've had multiple postpartum checks almost every day, A&P and microbiology classes with assignments, I am teaching an A&P class on Monday, birth room shifts and prenatal outreaches, just plain ole living in a house with 12 people...life is a blur.

Thank the good Lord for making one day a week where He commands us to rest and do nothing. I will gladly take Him up on that offer and living here I purposely arrange my schedule so that I can have one true sabbath day per week.
Thankfully the babies have cooperated thus far!

"Kaya na nimo!"
Translation: "You can do it!"

I had the privilege of laboring with and catching this sweet Badjao mama's babe. Here she is, tired but victorious, along with a lola from the village. Outside waiting for the new baby and sleeping on the benches was a whole caravan of people from Isla Verde. It was pretty cool.

I bought a pair of, what is known around here as, "Badjao Pants" from one of the Badjao girls.
The younger girls are always wearing these cute pants with funky prints with all these little details like laced edges and tiny bows with cute pockets. They make these pants themselves.
I have this half-baked idea that I will somehow start a micro-business for a group of girls in Isla Verde and set it up so that these sea gypsies can sell these pants in Portland when I get home. C'mon, you KNOW they would be super popular in Portland with all the hipster girls who ride bikes. Some funky socks underneath?...I can totally see it.
I'm gonna make it happen.

Another mama named Margie...she was really quiet and just TOTALLY didn't need me to be in her cubicle laboring with her, and kind of made that clear. I came in to check her babies heart tones and she started pushing. Out came the baby!
Love it.Afterward during postpartum:
Me: "Akong Bisaya gamay lang!..you sure wala'y English?"
Margie: *shakes her head no*
Me: "Sure ka?"
Margie: *smiles, shakes her head yes*
Me: *sigh* "ok lang."

During her 2 day baby check she answered each one of my questions in perfect English, even when I asked them in Bisayan. :)
Oy vey...language, and the barriers it creates, continue to be the bane of my midwifery existence.

Jo! Her and her bana were hilarious. This was her 5th baby and the second baby she has had at MMC. During her labor both her and her bana told me that they "love to have their babies at MMC" because "they feel like people here." And, that "they feel cared for."
LOVE it.
Joe birthed her baby like a pro, cause, well she is, and WOW come to find out her baby was tambuk! This sweet little girl weighed almost 10 pounds! Practically unheard of for a Filippino babe. The parents seemed unphased. Joe said "I eat alot of gulay (vegetables)."
:)

Here they are at their 2 day baby check. Her bana is a really sweet guy and after I teased him about trying to look like a bad-ass (he refused to smile for a pic) he just started giggling. CUTE KAAYO!And because she is so cute, here's another pic: the 4 day checkThen, on Friday, I had 2 conts go into labor about 7 hours apart! So yeah...I got done with one and was just about to go home...in came another mama for me almost fully and getting pushy!
This equaled a 16 hour shift in the birth room for me, starting at 2:45am.
Kapoy ang midwife! I was exhausted, but to be honest I was totally energized and deeply joyful at the end of that day.

Interestingly, as I was going to bed that night I heard that still, small voice inside say: "Em is going into labor tonight."
"Okay!" said I.
At 2:30am I wake up.
I was just about to nod off again when I feel someone shaking my shoulder, and it's my classmate Hannah waking me up because, you guessed it, Em is in labor.
Jump out of my bunk and throw on some scrubs! Run next door (with a big mug of instant coffee)...
Kaya na nimo Em!...

And she did :) her little baby Bea Cristina was born at 6:40am.
I was SO proud of her. She didn't want to lay down and just chose to squat. At one point I held her in a supported squat and she squatted super low to the ground over the towel that was under her...bam. Baby out! We both looked at each other and scooped up the babe. Afterward she said, "Thanks so much for all the embrace!"
LOVE it.
At her 2 day postpartum check she kept calling me her baby's "Pangalawang ina."
I found out that it means "Second-mother" in Tagalog.
:)
So I got Em all tucked in to the postpartum area and in comes Mon! She is super cute and all smiles, shyly covering her mouth with her hand like she always does. She was so smiley in fact, that I thought, "no WAY is she in active labor."

I was wrong. 2 hours later her incredibly awesome bana comes in (this man was like a doula! No joke. He was amazing. Oh if only all our mamas had such supportive banas!) and in no time flat their sweet baby boy was in her arms.
Here they are at their 2 day check. And they brought me a giant fruit basket to say thank you! So sweet ;)If anyone wants to be so kind, this kapoy midwife would LOVE some Starbucks VIA instant coffee packets and some dark chocolate! Address is on the sidebar
Salamat Kaayo ;)

Back From the Bukid: Buntis, Motorbikes, and Bon Jovi

2011-01-14T19:14:00.010-08:00

I'm back from my 4 day prenatal/immunization outreach to the beautiful bukid (mountains) ministering to the Manobo people. This is gonna be a rather long post because I really hope to give you a taste of what I experienced and learned from the Filippinos living in the bukid. Life is different there in many ways from Davao, and surprisingly the same in many ways. But so different from the states! And I wonder how I'll try to take the things I love about life in the Phils and apply the to life at home when I move back? (For instance: Will I walk around New Seasons saying, "Hello! Good Afternoon! How are you?!" to everyone? They would think I was a nut in uber-cool/guarded Portland).
But I'll explain these and other impressions as we go along...

Day 1: There is an ancient Manobo legend which tells of how a god created man to be immortal. The legend says that immortality was lost when a bird exchanged man's "life breath" for a mere piece of kemp string. I love this story. How often do we as humans trade our "life breath" for meaningless things that we endow with meaning? Spending the week with Ate Mary Jean and her husband, and watching how they serve their people totally inspired me. They are definitely people who spend their "life breath" spreading love and care for the people around them at all times, and it shows.
Let me tell you a bit about who they are:
Ate (pronounced AH-tay, a term meaning "big sister") Mary Jean is part of the Manobo tribe here in the Phils. She is a nurse and midwife who is backed by the government in her work to serve her people. Weekly she works tirelessly traveling around by motorbike over the crazy mountain roads, going village to village doing prenatals, giving immunizations, doing health teachings, etc. The life of a midwife calls you to many roles. This week I saw her act not only as a midwife but as a teacher, a caregiver, a counselor, a pastor. She blesses her people in so many ways and is truly a wise-woman. She is vivacious, has the most infectious BIG laugh and is such a little joy-bubble ready to burst on all occasions!
Her husband, Kuya (pronounced KOO-ya, a term meaning "big brother") Joon is also Manobo and he is the principle/teacher of the elementary school that is a 2 minute walk from their house. He speaks excellent English so I learned a ton from talking to him this week and he told me alot about the struggles of his people. He is also full of Joy and hilarious. But, I learned this week, that loving to laugh, sing, play games and just really have uninhibited FUN is really a Filippino thing. But I'm getting ahead of myself...
moving on!..

We left the house in Davao at 6am with Ate Mary Jean and Lumen (a midwife on staff here at Mercy Maternity Cetner) and took a bus, then a jeepney to a main city in the mountains. We stopped at the health cetner there where Ate works throughout the week. Then we walked over to the mayors office where we paid a "courtesy call" to him. He basically looked at our passports, asked us where we were from, what we were doing, etc. Then we waited around for our motorbike drivers (a couple of Kuya Joon's cousins family members) to come and pick us up. We rode motorbikes for the remainder of the time. 4-5 to a bike. That's how we roll in the Philippines!
(Below L to R: Genevieve, Ate Mary Jean, and Lumen. Genevieve and Lumen are both Manobo women who became midwives sponsored by Mercy Maternity Center (part of what my tuition goes to!) in order to go back to the mountains and serve their people groups)
Check out that "Filariasis" sign! I had never heard of that disease before! Apparently it is a virus that mosquitoes carry here and, as you can see from the pics on the sign, the result is...uh, not fun.

So here we are getting ready to roll to Ate Mary Jean's house. Filipinos wear all these clothes when they ride bikes because it's dusty. But lord, it's hot. I braved the dust. Don't you love how Genevieve rides on the gas tank? She's 8 months pregnant right now! It's totally not uncommon to see whole families piled high on these motorbikes. I'm holding the cooler that holds all the immunizations for the week: polio drops, Hep B, RBC, and MMR.
So off we go!...The hot air thick whipping past my face carrying smells of burning coconut shells, sweet rotting bananas, bread baking, dust...

Oops, and then we get a flat tire in the middle of this banana field. This happens a few times over the week.

So we explore a bit as we wait for him to come back to get us. Ever wonder how the workers gather bananas? Neither did I, but they use this pully system (the blue bags are bunches of bananas).

And then we arrive at Ate Mary Jean's village and her cute little house. Of course we are quite the sight, these tall white women piled on the motorbikes and, as is the custom here in the Phils, you wave and yell "Hello!" to everyone, all the time, as people yell out "Hello ma'am! Where are you going? Where are you from?"

Tropical garden-ness. They looked confused when I said "I use to have my hair the color of that flower!"

Inside of the house. Our bedrooms were upstairs.

My first time sleeping in mosquito nets (we don't have to use them in Davao). Thank GOD for mosquito nets.
As we laid in our bed resting for a bit, we heard the precious videoke blaring from a house next door. Air Supply, Journey (of course)...
Cultural lesson: I found out that in the Phils people BLAST music because it is polite! You see, they are trying to share their stereo with the neighbor who can't afford there own. No, I'm not kidding. It's so funny how "politeness" is culturally relative. Here it is polite to ask many personal questions, sit super close, blast your music so your neighbor can share it with you. In the states it is polite to give people as much silence, space, and privacy as possible. Could you imagine your neighbor blaring the Dire Straits classic "Money For Nothing" at 6am?! But they are just being polite!!

We were all hot and dusty so we walked through the village to bathe in the river. It was wonderful.

Afterward, Ate Mary Jean took us on a tour of her and Kuya's village. We hiked up this big hill to see the view (and I think so she could check her text messages cause it's the only place to get a signal!). The sun was low and casting a golden light over everything. It was breathtaking.

Filipino cow. She was asking about the cows in the states and we told here they have no hump, they are white with black spots, and have no folds of skin. She thought that sounded strange.

We walked around and she pointed out all of the flora and fauna: banana and coconut trees, ginger plants, guava trees, avocado, lemongrass, pineapple...I told her how lucky they are to have such an abundance of amazing food growing wild, everywhere.

View from on top of the biggest hill in their village.

Rice fields below

Then we hiked back down the hill and walked over to this little stand selling fish and spices to buy our dinner. When the sun starts to go down everyone comes outside and sits around talking, playing basketball, and just to suroy-suroy (wander around). At this point I was already having a great time acting like a total goofball (something you really have the freedom to do in the Phils) and attempting to use my very minimal Cebuano talking to the village ladies. They loved to laugh and ham-it-up for the camera, as you can see

Our dinner

This woman who was hanging out is the mom of another midwifery student who is sponsored by, and lives at, MMC studying to become a midwife.

So we went home and had our fish and ate cocoa fruit for dessert. I had NO idea that inside this giant pod are seeds, covered in this sweet white fruit that you suck off, and the seeds are what is dried and pounded down to make chocolate! This is one of the huge exports here in the mountains as you will see in later pics.

Just have to interject with a cultural lesson: This is whitening lotion. Almost all of the Filipinas here use this stuff! I always tell them "I use lotion to try to make my skin tan, not white!" The grass is always greener, eh?

Day 2: We wake up around 6am and after a breakfast of rice, ampalaya with eggs, and fish we watch the guys try to figure out how to best strap our bags onto the motors.

And we're off! It's about a 2 hour motor ride up through these mountains. We are going to hit 3 villages. First up is a village with a tiny health center that Ate started.

From L to R: my motor-mates for the trip. Genevieve, her bana (pronounced BAH-na, "husband") Ronnie who is hilarious and always singing and full of energy. He is what I imagine King David would have been like if he was a Filipino! He was a worship leader in Davao, is a musician, loves nature and talks about how he rides is motorbike slowly through the mountains so he can "enjoy God's creation," me, and Lumen. Thank GOD Lumen came on this trip with us. She translated almost the whole time and was a life-saver.

So we arrived at the first village and immediately set up and started working at the health center doing prenatals and immunizations.
This little girl looks like she knew what was coming. Either that or she's totally freaked out that this tall white lady is standing over her!

Mamas weighing their babies.

The lady to the right is one of Ate Mary Jean's health workers who lives in the village.

And time for a siesta. This is where I slept and I'm pretty sure that this is the mat in which I got the crap bitten out of me by bedbugs. For the remainder of the trip (and even now) my whole abdomen and back was (is) covered with bites.

When we woke up Ronnie and a couple of the other guys were climbing the trees outside to get us one of my most favorite Filippino foods: fresh buko (young coconut!) I will miss buko SO much.
He was gonna let me chop it with the machete but I was too wimpy.

You are suppose to just drink it from the hole in the top but I was spilling it everywhere like the clumsy white person that I am. So I just poured it in the baso (glass).

We had groups of children watching us at all times.

I think I ended up eating 1 1/2 bukos

Full. Of. Buko.
Sooo good though.
p.s: my tattoos were quite controversial in the villages. Apparently if you have tattoos it means you are a criminal and "belong in prison." Even when I tried to explain that each one of my tattoos were a story of God's faithfulness in my life, they just couldn't make the leap that they were positive and not negative. I brought sweaters just in case this happened, so I quietly covered them for the rest of the time. People were alot more relaxed around me after that. I was HOT, but it was worth it. Ate didn't mind my tattoos at all, but she came up to me later and whispered "that was probably a wise thing to do."

It was getting dark so we decided to suroy-suroy through the village and down to the river.
Some guys playing basketball. Apparently they thought I could play cause I was tall? Not so much. Diane Chan, if you are reading this, I thought of you and WISHED you could have been there to kick some butt in basketball. I think you would have gotten like 10 marriage proposals.

We walked through banana fields and past water buffalo to come to the river where people were moving lumber.

We were sitting on the shore and we could hear this guy over there going on and on about how he wanted to speak to the "Americanos" and wouldn't someone please help him with his English. Too funny.
I took this time to ask Lumen and Genevieve more about the tattoo taboo, cause alot of the time you will see older women in their 80's with full sleeve tattoos. I saw quite a few when I went up to Tabuk in the northern Phils the year before last. But they told me that here older people got tattoos based on superstition that stated that "a big fat man with sharp teeth would eat them if they left their villages, so they got the markings to protect them so they could travel to other villages." Apparently a spirit would attack them unless they got markings to protect them. This superstition has died out with the older generation in this area. Up in Tabuk though tribal tattoos were a sign of beauty and the woman had a special dance they did to show off their tattoos. But that's the north. This is the South.

Walking back to the village. It's dinner time. And what do I hear even out in the bukid? Videoke and this crazy dance music that we call the "hamster song" cause it blares from the Videoke place behind our house in Davao and sounds like hamsters screeching on beat, "Whee-whee-wheeeeee-we-we-whee-whee-whee..." Even out in the bukid.

These guys really wanted me to take their picture. But they wanted a picture with the flash only ;)

Ronnie and Lumen joking around. Lumen was in charge of rice, I got put in charge of the gulay (pronounced GOOL-ay, "vegetables), the men were in charge of the meat of course. This was my first time cooking dinner over fire. We bonded over food as we cooked. Love how cross-cultural that is.

After dinner we had to pay a courtesy call to the barangay (pronounced BUR-on-GUY, "neighborhood") captain and the council members of the village. It was the typical Filippino way of having a meeting and this is how is goes:
We enter the house and sit exchanging pleasantries. Someone brings in refreshments (even out in the bukid it is GIANT glass bottles of soda, RC or Orange, and crackers). You eat. They ask you: 1.) How old are you? 2.) Are you single? If you are (we all were), they introduce the other single male in the room as everyone laughs...and they are only half joking. 3.) Where are you from? 4.) Why are you here? Then they ask tons of questions about America. Tons. And are shocked when you tell them:
"Yes, yes we have much poverty. No actually many people have drinking problems. No, people actually live on the street with no family. No, not everyone owns a farm and in fact it is very expensive with lots of taxes and regulations to own a farm. No, you have to pay to catch fish and hunt animals and in fact you have to have a special license to do it!"
Shock and awe sweeps the room.
It becomes embarassingly apparent that they have this idea that America is, in effect, "Heaven." And you realize that "poverty" is relative. Here the Barangay captain, who is probably the most wealthy man there, but by U.S standards is living in a shack in poverty, is asking us if WE have poverty. It's kind of hard to explain, but I try to tell him that poverty in America is different. Poverty in America is the poverty of loneliness, spiritual and familial poverty, along with material poverty. "Poor" people in the Philippines have very close-knit families and social networks. People living on the streets in the U.S are often alone and mentally ill.
At some point the pastor of the village came in and started asking Ate many questions in Cebuano. She translated and told us he was asking biblical questions because people in his congregation have been asking him things he doesn't know how to answer. Come to find out these are very basic foundational Christan questions like: is God a man or is God a spirit? If you believe in Jesus what does it mean when you die?..no joke. Ate basically turned into the pastor for the night and counseled him on many things for the next 20 minutes or so. They have a woman with a mental illness in their village that he didn't know how to deal with. He is being asked things he didn't know how to answer. It broke my heart. He is the Shepherd of his people and there is no one there to shepherd him. Can he read the bible? I don't know. Anyway, Ate didn't think he had gone to school and she hoped that somehow someone could come and teach him how to shepherd the people there. That's one of the things that frustrates me about "missions"...people believe in Jesus, they get "saved," but there is no discipleship and then the missionaries move on and leave them there with no further teaching.
Anyway, it was a very educational evening, but left me with a heavy feeling. Especially when the Barangay captain was saying good-bye and told us that he was very happy that we were serving the women in his village and that he "wished he were white." ....comments like that make it really difficult to lay down my "white guilt," as it were. I can't imbue identity and pride in someone else. And I can't convince them that being white is not the answer, because truth be told, my white privilege opens many, many doors for me that will never be opened for him. It's a complicated issue that I wrestle with alot.
We said goodnight and I went to sleep with a heavy heart.
Day 3: We got up at 6am and after a breakfast of fish, rice, and vegetables we hit the road with plans to travel about an hour more into the mountains and go to 2 villages to do prenatals, immunizations, and health teachings on measles, nutrition, and diarrhea. On the way we passed a videoke joint where an 80's video of Bon Jovi was playing. Ronnie and I yell back and forth on the motorbike discussing the merits of Bon Jovi, who is very popular in the Phils, and I tell him that Bon Jovi is on Oprah alot lately. He didn't know who Oprah was. I say she's a very famous talk show host and if you are on Oprah, it means you are very famous. He seemed to understand.

We were getting further and further into the mountains, almost as far as you could go it seemed, and we came to the next village. What did I hear when I got off the motor?..a Filippino singing "Keep On Loving You" by REO Speedwagon very off-key. Yes, even WAAAY out in the bukid there is videoke. Here it is rigged up and run off of a car battery. Everyone has got to have some entertainment I suppose.

Word went out that we were there so all these women and babies started coming to the "meeting place." They brought is water and boiled yams for marienda (snack). Yes!

Lovely mamas. Beautiful babies.

We stood in front of them and they all asked us the "4 basic questions" we get asked everywhere. Giggles abounded and they wondered why we weren't married.

Ate set up and ready to begin immunizations.

We took all the prenatals with Lumen doing interviews, us doing the check-ups.

Lumes and Genevieve.

Health teaching time! My topic was measles. Lumen translated.

Teaching about proper nutrition while buntis (pronounced BOON-tis, "pregnancy or pregnant"). We did a skit. I was the "good buntis" who ate lots of gulay, isda (fish), manok (chicken), prutas (fruit), tubig (water). Ruth was the "bad" buntis who ate "junk food" and "dieted" because she didn't want a big baby. This is common. They all know what junk food is (all the cookies, candies, crackers, weird processed foods sold at sari-sari stores, soda, etc.) and "dieting" is common practice. They thought this was hoooolarious. (We do these same kind of skits in health teachings at MMC).

Apparently Ate and Genevieve were having fun with my camera.

Little girls waiting for their mamas to get prenatals behind that door behind them. We did prenatals in this little shed-type thing.

And took LOTS of blood pressure readings. A ton.

Even the white girls wanted their blood pressure read.

Then we went to one of Kuya Joon's cousins houses. I think almost everyone is related somehow by marriage or somewhere along the lines. In Ate's village, about 3 hours further down the mountain, there are like 600 people in the area and a bazillion cousins.

All those seeds drying on the mats are cocoa beans! They are cocoa farmers (among other things) in this area. They export them to factories in Davao where they get processed there and sold in supermarkets.

I found a little friend.
Here is a baby taking a nap on the porch of one of the houses.

The kitchen of Kuya Joon's cousins house where we ate lunch.

As lunch was cooking I really had to use the CR (Comfort Room aka: bathroom). So I took a little stroll down this hill...

my first time using a REAL squatty potty. In Davao they are at least a little bit off the ground. I was praying there were no spiders in there.

C'mon, you know you were curious :)

Us white people use tissue. FYI: never say "napkin" in the Phils when at a restaurant. A napkin is a feminie hygeine product. Always, "tissue."

Hanging out. Eating lunch. It was delicious pork adobo, rice, vegetables.

Off to the next village for more immunizations, prenatals, etc. Tons of cocoa beans drying in this village. By the time we left they were all gone.

See that broken table in the background. That was what we were going to do prentals on, before it broke. We had to make due with the women just sort of leaning back on it! One of the ladies, the one in the black dress below, was all "I don't feel comfortable with this!" (in Cebuano) and marched over to her house and brought back blankets and pillows so we could do it on the floor instead. I did her prenatal and she was so funny and sassy! This was her 10th baby.

The mama on the far right in the brown dress had me SO worried. She was really sick. Malnourished, anemic, and her baby had super high resps and wouldn't breast feed longer than a few minutes at a time. I felt bad for her because she wasn't from that barangay and the other women seemed a bit embarrassed her. So in turn SHE seemed embarrassed. I gave her all my Ferrous Sulfate (iron pills) and a copy of an info sheet that I use at MMC during prenatals that tell what to eat for proper nutrition and how much (in Cebuano). Lumen and Ate talked to her alot. To be honest with you I don't think her baby is going to make it. I hope she and her baby both do.
We rode about 2 hours back to Ate's house just as it was getting dark.

Day 4: The next day was Lumen's birthday so Ate decided we would celebrate all day! We got up early and packed a HUGE picnic and they took us to "the pools." Filippinos love to celebrate with food, "parlor games," and videoke of course.

We ate and ate and ATE (made me miss all of you at Imago!!), and Ate Mary Jean had the whole day all planned out. She herded us around all day, and this is how a Filippino birthday celebrations goes: "First we will each say blessings and wishes for Lumen. Then we will eat. Then we will play parlor games. Then we will sing. Then more parlor games. Then we will relax and swim!" As we ate we could hear someone singing the most off-key, awesome, hilarious version of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell."
So here I am picking out my videoke tunes.

Check out their set-up! Amazing.
I busted out a little "Umbrella" by Rhianna, and "Beautiful" by Christina Aguilara.

Videoke master! Perfect score!
"Duha 5.00": 2 songs, 5 pesos.
45 pesos=$1. So yeah, pretty cheap.

Next up: parlor games (and more eating). We played limbo, pool relay races, etc.
It hit me how uninhibited Filippinos are when it comes to stuff like this. Even the men were SO into these games. It was so much fun! Rarely, if ever, are people this un-self-conscious in the NW. They ae too busy trying to be "ironic." Filipinos really just enjoy life.

We partied some more and went back home. We sat at the kitchen table and Ate and Kuya asked us what we wanted to do when we are finished at MMC. I told them my plans to start a birth center that serves women living in the margins of society back home. They laughed and joked and said we needed to stay and help them! I think they were half-joking. There is indeed MUCH need. 20 villages in the area don't have any health workers at all. Kids walk 14 miles each day to school BOTH ways. They leave at 4am. Alot of them drop out cause they are needed at home to help out and it's too much of a strain. I am considering sponsoring a girl from the village to train to be a midwife.
The next day we rode motors, a bus, and a jeepney to get back to MMC. Even after only 4 days away the city seemed so crowded and dirty. People leave the bukid in pursuit of a "better life" in the city. It's still up for debate if life is indeed "better" in the city.

As I sit here and finish this account of my time in the bukid, I can hear Guns n' Roses "Knocking On Heaven's Door" blaring from our neighbors house.
How nice of them to share :)

Best Christmas Present II, and Dreaming Big Dreams

2011-01-07T01:26:00.006-08:00

I'm sure my SQUEAL of delight could be heard all the way around the world and back home when I opened my belated Christmas care package that arrived from some of my dear friends back home today! Seriously Holly and Josh, Shawn and Betsy, Drew and Michelle, Grace, Michelle B and John, Sarah and Zack, and all my old co-workers at Moe's!!!...you've outdone yourselves. Truly, I am beyond blessed to have such an awesome community of friends. It was a refreshing, uplifting, and encouraging JOY to open that box today.

Just like real Christmas! Boxes/wrappers torn open in a frenzy Thank you! And I know the mamas and little babies will thank you when they are wrapped in the super soft baby blankets you sent for the birth center.

I'll share a bit about my vision for this upcoming year, and what I want to do when I leave here in 2012:
I had a great Christmas break. I was able to get away for a couple days and spend some time in silence for the first time in 5 months. I feel like my vision for how I want to serve women in the world is really being refined here while working at MMC. I am getting involved in an organization here called Talikala that "offers support, advice, training, and counseling to women and girls who have been forced into the sex trade here in Davao." I will be doing prenatals, building relationships with, and taking women at Talikala as continuities of care clients for MMC. The sex industry and sex-trafficking is a huge issue here in Davao (and the Phils in general), as I'm sure you've heard if you pay attention at all to the news, etc. I feel really blessed that this opportunity has fallen into my lap because, as I realized over Christmas break, in 2 years I want to start a charity based birth center in Portland in an old victorian house. I want it to be called The Lifehouse. I want to serve pregnant women living on the streets, pregnant prostitutes, teen moms, and women living in the margins of society. I want these women to be able to come to The Lifehouse and be treated like queens as they birth their babies into this world in a compassionate, nurturing environment. I want them to have access to parenting classes prenatals, lactation consultants, etc.
In Portland, 42 percent of the female youth accessing services are pregnant or parenting an infant, and more than 50 percent of female youth in transitional housing are pregnant or parenting. They are choosing to keep their babies because they want to have families. They want to have families different than the families that they grew up with. They need compassionate midwifery care and support to show them that they CAN do it. God's love can redeem anyone and anything. I am living proof of that.
I have BIG dreams. May God go before me and prepare the way for me to serve his daughters. Please pray about this with me.
I am learning SO much here, and I know that serving the mamas at Talikala and MMC will further prepare me for serving women at home.
Here's some of the beautiful mamas and babies I've had the privilege of getting to midwife here lately...My 2 lovely "conts," and their gwapo kaayo boys. I love these ladies. They crack me up during baby checks talking about filippino food and recipes (chicken liver adobo, anyone?), and despite our language barrier I really click with them. SO thankful for that.Amor and her little man. I was her midwife 6 weeks ago and today was her last check-up at MMC. I can't believe how big her bata is getting! And she is doing great kaayo.Resa and her little girl Rhianna. Resa gave me the gift of having the COOLEST labor ever on New Years Eve. Her baby was born right before the New Year, but she was crazy awesome. And her bana is a barber! They thought it was hilarious that I was a barber back home ;)
Because I've actually been getting some e-mails lately from people here in Davao because they've stumbled across my blog, I have decided to limit the info/pictures/what I say about women's birth experiences here on my blog. I want to protect the privacy of the women I serve and unfortunately public blogs are a little too...well, public. Hope you understand.
But I do feel like the strength and beauty of these mamas need to be shared, and I need to share the amazing work that we do here at MMC loving and serving these mamas, and even saving lives.

I will be going on a week long outreach up into the mountains all next week doing prenatals, teaching health teachings on diarrhea, measles, and nutrition, doing immunizations, etc. Please pray for safety and provision (and extra language skills! Dili English) for me and my classmates who are coming. And that the people we are serving will feel loved and cared for. I will update when I get home.
Peace out.

Best Christmas Present Ever?..

2010-12-25T19:54:00.003-08:00

Christmas away from my community back home is tough. Real tough.
What could I have wanted for Christmas this year? Besides getting to go home for Christmas (which didn't happen), or go to Hawaii with some of my closest friends (which ALMOST happened, but didn't), I had the privilege of catching the Christmas baby yesterday at 1:24 p.m.! The mama was AMAZING and pushed her baby into my hands with ease, with no tear, no PP hemorrhage...it was the best Christmas present ever. And she was SO happy to have a Christmas baby! (We get alot of moms in super early labor who come in on Christmas morning just because they want to have a Christmas baby. And of course they get sent home because they are like 2cm).
*~*~*~*~*Merry Christmas!*~*~*~*~*

Jesus's Barnbirth and Mary's Strength

2010-12-23T08:12:00.005-08:00

Over on Jan Tritten's Facebook page she posed these questions: "How do you think the birth of Jesus went? Do you think Mary was afraid of birth?
As Christmas approaches, I've been thinking about the same things. If God chose to be born in a barn, I think homebirth is a-okay :) And, Jesus was obviously born into the hands of a midwife since Jewish cleanliness laws forbade men to be near blood in birth. God loves midwives:

"So God blessed the midwives, and the Israelites continued to multiply, growing more and more powerful. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families of their own." Exodus 1:20-21.

Also I've been pondering motherhood and the strength and sacrifice of Mary. In church and in Christianity focus is always given to the suffering of the Father, handing over His Son to die for mankind. But what of his mother? What of Mary's sacrifice? She was human and in all of her weak humanness she still chose to bear a child that she knew would be handed over to die, even if it was for the benefit of mankind. How many mother's would willingly do that?
There's all kinds of heavy, crazy things to ponder if you really think about Jesus's birth.

I am not a mother, but God willing I will be one day. I hope that I can be as selfless and long-suffering as Mary was bearing, birthing, raising, and letting go of her holy son.

Priceless

2010-12-21T01:24:00.000-08:00

Pretty much amazing.

The Colbert Report

Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

Jesus Is a Liberal Democrat

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March to Keep Fear Alive

Isla Verde outreach

2010-12-20T05:44:00.007-08:00

Thursday I went on a prenatal outreach to Isla Verde, a community where the Badjao people of the Philippines live here in Davao. The Badjao are a people group in the Philippines that could be considered the outcasts of society. They are looked down upon and have been displaced by wars and the death of their traditional fishing culture. There homelands has been taken away from them and their culture is gradually slipping away. Of course, I don't claim to understand all of the complexities wrapped up in the cultural attitude towards the Badjao, but in know that they are sort of "outside" of mainstream society here. From what I gather, Badjao people are sea nomads and are called "sea gypsies," traveling by boat from one island to the other in search of fishing harvest. Traditionally, they're a seafaring people originating from the Samal Tribe on the island of Mindanao in the southern Philippines and very few people outside of Badjao speak their tribal language. When Badjao women come into the birth center it's very hard to communicate.
They earn their living almost exclusively from fishing, diving for pearls (which they sell outside of our house sometimes) and harvesting sea products. Some Badjao families have 10-12 children, making poverty inevitable for them.
More history: When the Badjao came to Mindanao's southern coast several centuries ago they built bamboo and nipa huts about three meters above the water level stretching to the sea and these high structures were meant to prevent them during high tides and also for safety against strangers. The Badjao's long journey for safer environment started in the 1970s, at the time when the Moro secessionists war was raging. They thereby headed north reaching Manila Bay in the 1990s and a group of Badjao built a village along the shore, this time not with bamboos and nipa again but with wood scraps, rice sacks and cartons.
They are regarded as war refugees, this is so because over the past several years, they've been caught in several crossfires between the Muslim separatists and the Christian-backed government in Manila. Economically, they've been victims of over fishing by other groups that are using everything from dynamite to high-tech fishing trawlers.

So we partner with an amazing Filippina named Charlene who decided to move into Isla Verde to minister to and love on the Badjao people, and we go every other week and do prenatals/health teachings there.

Here's Ate Suse (one of our staff midwives) doing the health teaching on nutrition.

Another of our staff midwives, Ate Elsa, taught me how to do hematocrit readings. I can't believe how easy it to test a person's hematocrit (you test it in order to see if they are anemic)! It made me angry to think how these tests are held as some sacred knowledge that one needs a specialist to diagnose, instead of medical knowledge belonging to the people so they can be empowered by taking care of themselves and...okay okay...*steps down from soapbox*

One of my classmates doing a prenatal. All of the mamas other kids were SO excited to hear their baby brother or sisters heartbeat.Just as we were getting ready to pack up for the day a young woman from the village came out and asked Ate Suse if we could come to one of the huts to check on a girl who had just had her baby not long ago.

Ok, I have to admit, I was a little hesitant about going deeper into the village because, well, see those boards below? Those are the walkways and you have to walk across them to get anywhere. See below those boards? Yeah it's all sewage and garbage and who knows what else.

We went pretty far back (of course) and I made it slowly but surely, as everyone sat at their windows calling out at the big tall white girl trying to balance on bendy pieces of bamboo boards suspended over sewage. So we checked the mama and baby and everyone was doing great.And on my way out one of the sweet young women came out and led me by my hand over the boards cause I was so slow :)

Last Monday

2010-12-20T05:26:00.005-08:00

...Right when we got back from our weekend getaway, we had a Christmas food package-making party at MMC. We put together TONS of food bags to give away to our prenatal patients that contained: mung beans, rice, powdered milk, other various dried Filippino foods, and of course the ever-present Milo.

Me and two of my awesome roommates. Makayla on the left and Maria on the right. Both amazing midwives.

Left to right: Sylvet, Vania (both staff midwives), and Ate Melodie, one of the Filippinas who keeps the office running smoothly.

By the end of the afternoon we had a rice and mung bean covered floor, and pounds and pounds of food bags prepared to give away over the month of December.

Last Saturday

2010-12-20T03:23:00.004-08:00

...I managed to get a little break (my first one in nearly 5 months) in order to whisk Krystal away for a birthday/good-bye party weekend. Krystal is my lovely friend who was a supervisor midwife here, and is now on a plane back to my home, the Pacific NW, to study herbs in addition to practicing midwifery. I will miss her kaayo.
We started out taking a ferry to the lovely Garden Island of Samal, and piled onto the back of this guy's motorbike.

An action shot. It's amazing how many people they cram onto these bikes.

Where we met up with Heather (another supervisor) and her family at the beach.

we even had dinner on the beach. Fancy-town. And swam in the ocean at night and there was phospherescence in the water! Magic.

Heather's cutie of a daughter showing off this crazy giant gold and black starfish we found.

And, pretty much a highlight for me cause I've always wanted to see one: a pufferfish! They are the craziest things in person.

A little taste of home...

2010-12-17T20:40:00.011-08:00

So I had this blog post all ready to commit to the internet-airwaves (airwaves??), but it's gonna have to wait because right now, I have to give a shout out to my home.
I just realized that Portlandia is airing soon and I am SO sad that I will miss it. What is Portlandia? you may ask..Only the most amazing t.v. show ever!

This clip form the show simultaneously made me laugh out loud, become deeply homesick, and shake my head at the ridiculousness of how true it all is. Ahhh Portland. I miss you.

(An ode to my home...But just a warning: if you are not from Portland, you may not care and you may not get it)

Actually, the Phils has it's share of random wackiness as well. For instance, a marching band coming down our street the other night playing many Christmas favorites and a rousing rendition of the Donna Summer's classic "Hot stuff," as the drag queens across the street danced their hearts out on the porch.
Maybe I'm not so far from home after all!
;)

The Story of Mrs. Y

2010-12-10T13:11:00.007-08:00

It's a hard thing for us in the states to understand and believe, but this is reality for 98% of the women in this world.

(from WHO midwifery education modules)

Why did Mrs. Y Die?
Mrs Y died while giving birth. It was her fifth delivery. She was not
from a far off village but lived in the city itself. She set out on time to go
to hospital. But, ...
... by the time they had found a vehicle to go to the hospital,
... by the time they struggled to get her an admission card,
... by the time she was admitted,
... by the time her file was made up,
... by the time the midwife was called,
... by the time the midwife finished eating,
... by the time the midwife came,
... by the time the husband went and bought some gloves,
... by the time the midwife examined the woman,
... by the time the bleeding started,
... by the time the doctor was called,
... by the time the doctor could be found,
... by the time the ambulance went to find the doctor,
... by the time the doctor came,
... by the time the husband went to buy drugs, IV set, and drip,
... by the time the husband went out to look for blood bags all
round the city,
... by the time the husband found one,
... by the time the husband begged the pharmacist to reduce the
prices since he had already spent all his money on swabs, dressings,
drugs and fluids,
... by the time the haematologist was called,
... by the time the haematologist came and took blood from the
exhausted husband,
... by the time the day and night nurses changed duty,
... by the time the midwife came again,
... by the time the doctor was called,
... by the time the doctor could be found,...
by the time the doctor came,
... the woman died.

As my lovely British midwife friend Louise succinctly put it:
"When will maternal mortality truly be understood as a multifaceted socio-political issue rather than simply a medical one? In our lifetime I hope."

Agdao and Jeepney Births

2010-12-09T23:55:00.009-08:00

I did a prenatal outreach in Agdao yesterday, probably the first of many as I took 2 conts from this village yesterday.
I don't know the history of Agdao well enough to talk in depth about it, but I know that it is a slum village about 2 miles from our clinic and that it use to be called "the place of death" because in the 80's there was so much violence/gangs/drugs that at night government officials would lock down the village and no one was allowed out because of all of the killings. In the morning they would open the gates and there would be dead bodies laying on the ground.
There is still a very heavy feeling permeating Agdao. Life is rough there in many ways. It is difficult for the women living there to get to us for prenatals for a variety of reasons, so twice a month we go to them. My tattoos attracted ALOT of attention there (they do everywhere here but yesterday in particular I had quite the crowd gathering around me). It's always positive attention, and men are particularly interested in my tattoos because mine are so much brighter and nicer than there's are here (except the tribal designs. Those are seriously cool). I've gotten into quite a few "tattoo camparing" matches with guys at the market. Mine winning every time as their friends laugh at there's. Older women, like in their 80's and 90's, have gwapa full-sleeve tattoos here. They are tribal designs and are great symbols of beauty. They even have this traditional dance that they do to show off their tattoos. It's really gorgeous. Unfortunately the younger generation is letting those traditions die out.

Anyway, there was one interesting fellow yesterday who kept following me around in Agdao and he told me (in very broken english and miming) that he cut his arm (while pointing to this very dark black solid line tattoo on his arm) and drank his blood. Creepy.

Anyway, the outreach went well and I'm glad we got there when we did because there was a very sick mama that we tried to start an I.V on 3 times but she was so dehydrated that her veins were collapsed and we had to refer her. I took her as a cont.
I also did a prenatal on a 13 year old and took her as a cont.
As I've been thinking about what it would be like to be a 13 year old having a baby I decided to ask one of the Filippina midwives if she would partner with me to care for this girl since I can't speak Cebuano. Please be praying for this girl and for the sick mama (I will be following up with her in a week or so)

Giving a tetanus shot to the sick mama. During her prenatal I discovered that her pulse was 150!! (normal high is like 92), she has been puking for almost 17 weeks, so she hasn't been eating or drinking, and she's caring for her two other kids. It's amazing to me that she is still functioning. Sitting next to her is an amazing young woman named Michelle who felt called become a midwife, but she didn't have the money so she prayed about it for months and through different circumstances and "chance" meetings, a doula from the U.S. is now paying her way through midwifery school! She wants to serve women in her community with her midwifery skills. She is awesome.

Prenatal interviews and palpating the baby's position. The baby was totally kicking me here.

And then that night on shift: a jeepney pulls up laying on it's horn and we run out to find a woman laying on the floor of the jeepney (the passengers had all jumped off at this point) pushing her baby out! We managed to get her inside just as the baby was crowning and head was out. Not that she couldn't have given birth in the jeepney (we've totally had taxis pull up with the baby just laying there in between the mamas legs! ha!), but I think the midwives prefer her to be in the birth center.And these are the random things you find when living in a house with 12 people.

Beautiful Mamas and Garden Islands

2010-12-07T15:19:00.008-08:00

Friday:
I labored with, and caught the baby of, one inspiring mama who was absolutely gorgeous. She was 44 years old, this was her 10th baby, but this was the first time she ever pushed her baby out by herself. How can that be, you ask? Half way through her labor she told me that with all of her other babies the hilot (traditional healer) or doctors (at the gov. hospital) just "push on her stomach very hard" to get the baby out. Fundal pressure and perineal stretching has been the way she had been made to birth her babies in the past. Lack of trust in the birth process and fear continue to harm women around the world in labor.
Once she got into the groove and realized that when labor is normal her body, when left alone, will push her baby out on it's own, (and the baby knows what to do as well!) she delivered a beautiful little girl named Rahab. I really wish my Cebuano was better because I was told that she was saying all this hilarious stuff. But we managed to communicate ok :)
She was so sweet.

Saturday:

Prental outreach on the "Beautiful Garden Island of Samal."
One of the midwives on staff at Mercy Maternity Center, Sylvette, and I being dorks.
Beautiful Garden Island Indeed.
And our outreach van. Pretty sweet, eh?
We do prenatals at a local Filipino church one Saturday a month. You can see the pastor rolling up on his motorbike.
Us hanging out waiting for the mamas to come

I'm charting for heather while she does a prenatal on a first-time mama.

It's a super laid back, fun atmosphere at the Samal outreach. There is a totally different vibe on Samal vs. in Davao. There's a peacefulness that isn't present in the city.
Afterwards, the pastor and his wife took us out for lunch at this resto on the side of the road. I LOVE Filipino food!! They sure are fond of soda here though, and we couldn't leave until we each had 3 glasses.

Monday:
I got texted at 3:30am that one of my conts (women I do all continuity of care with) is in labor. So I jump off my bunk, throw on some scrubs and run next door.
Ann, a first-time mama, was waiting for me.
She was amazing though I think she wasn't prepared for the power of contractions. She couldn't seem to relax at all and was totally cussing, in English, at the top of her lungs! It was hilarious.
She had a fairly fast labor for a G1 and brought her beautiful baby boy, Sebastian, into the world at 8:21am.

Me giving little Sebastian footprints

And me and the beautiful Ann. I look more tired than she does!

I had my second prenatal with my cont who is due in April, Junalyn, yesterday. She is the one who's first baby died during prolonged labor at home. As we talked yesterday she told me that she is feeling hopeful and not despairing like she was the last time we chatted 4 weeks ago. She feels that God has 'given her this new pregnancy as a gift" and she is excited. Please hold her in your prayers, that there will be no fear surrounding this birth and that she will have an uncomplicated, joyful labor.

Oh! and if you are a midwifery student, or just interested in global midwifery, the WHO has a great FREE resource online that teaches midwifery skills and info about global maternal health.

Six-toed Babies and Attempted Muggings

2010-12-02T20:28:00.006-08:00

I've had quite the eventful week.
First off, remember Gene? Well she is out of the hospital and in spite of the care she received there, she is doing very well. She came in for her 3 week baby check today and I was so happy to see how well she and her baby are doing.
(Regina's mom, Regina, her baby Jairrah, and moi)

And let's see here...oh yeah so 3 days ago I got a GUN pulled on me as I walked home with another supervisor. The guy demanded money and thank the good Lord that I left my purse at home. All I had were keys. He told us to keep walking, motioning with the gun for us to go, and we quickly walked around the corner and fought the urge to fall on my knees cause my legs were shaking.

I realized one thing: with a gun pointed at my stomach on a dark street I entertained no thoughts whatsoever of karate-moves or self-defense.
Another realization: guns pointed at you is a daily occurrence for women all over the world where in some places they can't even go out to get water without the fear being killed, or worse.
Anyway, we aren't allowed to walk after dark anymore. Bummer since its way to hot during the day to go out for a little exercise.

The next day I assisted at one of my housemates births and the little bata had 6 toes! :)
And we had pie. Pie, and lots of pie at our Thanksgiving feast.

Thanksgiving fun times: me (yes I'm wearing contacts. Attempting to get contacts in the Philippines is a story in itself), Krystal (the supervisor who was with me at the attempted mugging), and Fonda.And I had the privilege of catching another baby. This is me and the lovely mama Amor and her baby Zander Rave! How cool is that?
There are so many babies named these ultra rock star names here!
One baby born here was named Dimple Adapter. No freaking joke. Ate Bebe, who does the birth certificates upstairs in the office, has no qualms about coming down and objecting to putting a name on a birth certificate! So funny.

And it's "officially" Christmas time here as we put up our tree this week. But we've been hearing Christmas music since before Halloween, so...

My First Catch

2010-11-19T22:26:00.005-08:00

It's been a crazy week (don't I say that every time I post?) so I should have posted this a few days ago, but better late than never. I caught my first baby :)
The mama, Gene, was amazing. We connected immediately and we labored together for about 6 hours, standing, breathing together almost the whole time, contraction through contraction.
I showed her the progress of how her baby moved down down down into her pelvis; how I checked heart tones lower and lower down on her belly, over the hours, and she was really encouraged by that. Gene was awesome and worked so hard to bring her baby into this world. Unfortunately she suffered a bad postpartum hemorrhage afterward and we had to transport her to the hospital.
I'll spare you the details of her hospital stay (I spent quite a long time with her the next day sitting in the gymnasium size recovery room with everyone packed in there like sardines without any privacy as she told me all of the details and processing through the treatment she received there), but I will say that here, as in most developing countries, when a person needs blood they have to go out and buy it themselves and bring it back to the hospital. This means that when I went to visit Gene in the hospital the next evening she still didn't have a blood transfusion.
I just talked to her about 15 minutes ago (it's been a week now) and she JUST got the blood today.
That means all week long she has been laying in the hot, crowded hospital, without her baby (because she wasn't allowed to see her there. Luckily her neighbors have been caring for her bata), waiting to see if she could recover on her own or if her relatives would have to get her a bag of blood. She has been pumping her milk from the hospital and sending it home with relatives so her baby can eat. She is one AMAZINGLY strong, brave 19 year old. She shared some of her life story with me and I am blown away by her strength.
I will see her in a few days, God willing, to start her postpartum checks and baby checks. Please hold her in your prayers.

Now that I'm catching, I get to write labors on the board.
I'm so official.

Me and Gene's mom and baby. Baby's first bath. I am trying to keep my glasses on my face because they were literally sweating off. There is no AC in the birth center and mamas always request that the fans be turned off. Init kaayo.

Help MamaBaby Haiti!

2010-11-13T04:46:00.005-08:00

I know you already know what's going on in Haiti, the recent cholera outbreak, and the desperate need of the people there.

Some midwives from my hometown, Portland OR, have sacrificed much time, effort, and resources to start a birth center in the midst of the chaos because there is such need for skilled health workers.
And they need help right now. Here's the latest post by this awesome team of midwives:

'We are in desperate need of donations. Today we took care of the children of a mother who died last week, leaving 7 children, several who are sick. The grandma brought them in. So sad. Yesterday a boy with cholera showed up and was treated by us with IV fluids and EmergenC and then taken to the hospital by Fernando. They were rerouted to a gymnasium where over 200 patients with cholera were laying on the floor, many dead with flies buzzing around them. A rope was strung across the large room with IV bags hung from it. No doctors were on site. Our doctors stayed to help.

We have attended 2 births in our first week and we don’t even have beds yet. One of the babies was born needing much resuscitation. I am amazed that we have only been there since November 1st and people are showing up on our doorstep. We don’t even have a sign up yet and aren’t ready to be treating people, but the hospitals are overflowing and the need is great, and the word of mouth is already getting out quickly that we have doctors and midwives there.

So far, the founders have been funding most of the project, but this means we are SO behind on our USA birth center bills and rent, as we didn’t expect to fund this (we thought it would be easy to get grants and fund raising), nor did we expect to run into so many expenses (the landlord lied to us and the house wasn’t ready when we arrived: we are paying to finish it as our team is already on the ground. we arrived to no water, no electric, no generator, no refrigerator, no stove, leaking roof, no landscaping done, etc. etc.). Fernando has extended his trip and will be back the 21st of November (I am due with our 9th baby the 23rd). Our furniture (especially important are the 26 beds and mattresses) was supposed to arrive a month ago but were delayed first by the ship needing fixed and then by the hurricane. They finally arrived in the port 4 days ago and we are praying they will be out of customs Monday or Tuesday so Fernando can take the shipment (many truck rides!) to the birth center and assemble all the furniture (10 thousand dollars of IKEA stuff).

It is all so overwhelming and the four of us who founded this (Desiree, Patricia, Fernando, and I) feel like, “What have we taken on?” We would love your prayers, and if possible, donations. Even the smallest amount times many people, would help. I just got a 10 dollar donation from a person I know and it made me smile that she was thinking of us. I thought, even if everyone gave just 10 to 50 dollars it would make a difference."
Check out their website , help if you can, and please spread the word.
xo

Geng-geng

2010-11-09T01:44:00.007-08:00

I took my first "cont" yesterday during prenatals (a "cont" is a woman that you give full "continuity of care" to. You do her prenatals, you are on-call for her, you are there when she goes into labor, and you do all postpartum and baby checks...in other words you are her midwife).
I am now her midwife!

For confidentialities sake I will use her nickname, "Geng-geng," when talking about her here (everyone here in the Philippines has a nickname, there is even a space on charts for the clients nickname! "Geng-geng" is a fairly popular nickname for women).

Geng-geng is 23 years old and pregnant for the 2nd time. As she was laying on the bed and I was palpating her babies position, I found out that her first baby died during a prolonged 3 day labor at home. She was laboring without any skilled attendant, not even a TBA, and she said she could feel the baby moving for awhile and then it just stopped. When her baby was finally born, she had died. This is why charity based-birth centers like MMC exist, and this is why women everywhere around the world need free access to midwives at their births!
*end of lecture* anyway...

I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry Geng-geng. We will pray that this labor is better and that your baby is healthy."
And she said, without any bitterness in her tone, just very honestly, "Yes, if God even exists." And smiled sadly.
Instantly, at that moment, I felt connected to her (it helped that she could speak maayo kaayo English). I looked her in the eye and said, "Yes, I struggle with doubts too." I wanted her to know that I appreciated her honesty and that it was good of her to be honest about how she is feeling. That God understands her grief. She smiled again.

I found her babies heartbeat, and she had tears in her eyes as she said,"That's my babies heart!" As the rest of her prenatal continued, she was very eager and interested to know all about nutrition and how to take care of herself by eating iron and protein rich foods, etc. (something I love to teach women about). I found out that her aunt referred her to our birth center. Her bana doesn't live here. He lives and works in another part of the Philippines and sends her money (a common situation for women and their husbands here). She lives with her mom.

I re-scheduled her for her next prenatal and asked her if I could pray for her before she left. She said yes and I prayed a simple prayer. I am well acquainted with grief-filled prayers these past 2 years: "God, I know that in the midst of loss and grief you are with us grieving too. I ask that you help Geng-geng to heal as she continues to grieve the loss of her baby. And that you would protect her and help her baby to grow strong and she would feel your peace during this time." She prayed as well and took my hand and said "you are so__!"...(something in Cebuano, but I know it was a compliment because she was smiling really big, haha!).

So, there you have it. Geng-geng is my first continuity. Please hold her in your prayers. I pray that this birth would be very healing for her. She is due mid-April.
Here are a few scenes from last week (not including scenes of me throwing a math book across the room, because algebra is the tool of the devil, and I'll spare you that mini-breakdown :)

Getting ready for endorsements (shift change in the birth center):

Going "grocery shopping" at the market. This was our tri-c driver looking like a bad ass.
Cheap source of protein: Peanuts. At the palengke where we shop almost every day there are these little cubicles of people selling peanuts and peanut butter (among other things). They boil these peanuts in oil and garlic cloves. They are lumi kaayo.
Also from the market: Fresh Bangu (milkfish).
I'm gutting dinner for the evening.
Yum! And yes, I felt pretty hard-core gutting our bangus in the sink.
My gwapa amiga ug bunk-mate and I enjoying some chicken siopao, some lumi kaayo street food here.
I have fallen in love with Filippino food.

Helpless to be a Hero

2010-11-06T06:25:00.006-07:00

Last night I was standing on a corner with a girl from my house waiting to catch a taxi.
A group of street kids were running from car to car in the busy street tapping on windows and putting there hands to their mouths to signify they wanted food and money.
This little girl, no older than 6, in a tattered green dress and messy hair came up to me and tugged on my shirt. I said "Wala" (which means "no" or "none").
She gave me the most hardened, defiant look I have ever seen a 6 year old give, and glared at me as she walked away.
As we stood there for a good 20 minutes waiting for the taxi I kept watching her, amazed at the way that she commanded the group of children, all around her age. She was in charge, loud, ordering the other little girl and 2 boys around. Though I couldn't understand what she was saying, it was obvious she had a little firecracker personality.
I couldn't help but wonder who or what she could be if she was taken out of her poverty, a life she was born into and would probably bear children into, and given a chance in life (and hopefully that doesn't sound like privileged, holier-than-thou, western prattle. I'm being sincere. When I became a christian I was shocked at how I moved into a different socio-economic class just by my "religious" affiliation in a suburban area...but maybe that's a topic for a different blog post :)
This little girl, obviously a leader and a feisty one at that. I wanted to take her home with me.
I felt so helpless to help her standing on that street watching her get SO excited when a man threw a bag of chips out the window to her and she stood squealing, jumping up and down clutching that bag to her chest, yelling and pointing to the car as the other kids ran after it.

Tonight I watched Slumdog Millionaire and thought about those kids all over this city. All over the world. This is the 2nd time I've seen that movie, and watching it here and not on the comfort of home gave it a whole new context/meaning.
And it wasn't entertaining.But I can't SAVE these kids. Just like we can't SAVE these women in our care when they run out of money to buy medication.

My roommate came home from visiting a woman who delivered a baby at Mercy but had to be transferred to the hospital because of postpartum complications.
My roommate layed down on the couch and started telling me, her eyes filled with tears, that sometimes she doesn't know why she's even here and what she's doing. That she feels helpless to actually HELP these women. She fears that she's not making any difference at all and hates that this woman who she visited had to unplug her I.V at the hospital because she couldn't afford the medicine anymore. And my bunk-mate was so frustrated because all she could do was give her a piece of bread that she bought to share, and pray for her.
I completely understand this frustration.
Jesus calls us to love, to give a cool glass of water to the thirsty, to visit the sick and the prisoner, to sacrifice and love with all of our being. But we can't change people's circumstances. We can't fix people's problems, we can't be the hero. It's humbling, and maddening.

Little Reminders

2010-11-04T07:56:00.003-07:00

I assisted a birth. The young woman labored steady and fast. Baby girl came with a gush of blood.

I lifted the baby up to the mom's bare chest; she was looking at the wall still lost in the pain that had just created new life.
Bending down to eye level, I put my hand on her shoulder to get her attention,
comfort her, and said, "How are you doing?"
She turned her head to me and gave me a beaming, exhausted, radiant smile. Then proceeded to nurse her newborn girl.
And that is what this is about.

Thanks Stephanie

2010-11-03T16:39:00.002-07:00

On my way to prentals. Got a really encouraging e-mail (along with these words below) today from my internet friend (hopefully we will meet in person one day!) and awesome midwife Stephanie.

^12-14So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it. (Colossians 3:12-14, The Message)

D.I.Y. Foreign Aid

2010-10-31T02:33:00.004-07:00

You'll have to excuse me if I ramble on and on (even more than I usually do) during this blog post. I have a bad cold and have been typing all day finishing an assignment on nutrition while also trying to translate what I'm learning into Bisaya so I can communicate this information to the women I will see during prenatals this week. And Happy Halloween! I hear my friends back home are having a Mad Men themed Halloween party! So bummed I'm missing out on that.
But, I just had to take a break to post about this super fabulous article from a man I greatly admire, Nicholas Kristoff, about folks just like you and me who decide to put there time and resources where their mouth is and actually go out into the world to help alleviate poverty, lack of education, etc. It's not easy, and it takes alot of sacrifice. One of the women highlighted is from Portland, Ore. I did a blog post about her last year. She's the one who started "Run For Congo" after seeing an Oprah show about rape being used as a weapon of war and what women live through every day while just trying to raise their families in the DRC.
Since she started "Run For Congo" she's lost her fiancee (he told her to "choose Congolese women or choose him." She chose Congolese women), her business, and has had to alter her lifestyle quite a bit (she now lives with 5 roommates to cut living costs, and saves all of her extra money for helping women in the DRC) in order to keep helping these women in Congo.

"I caught up with Shannon earlier this year in Congo. She took me to see one of the Congolese woman she’s closest to, Generose Namburho, a 40-year-old former nurse. Namburho is a stocky, self-assured woman who led us down a mud path, using a crutch to replace her missing right leg. An extremist Hutu militia invaded Namburho’s home a few years ago, killed her husband, raped her and then hacked off her leg with a knife. Then the soldiers cooked the flesh from her leg and forced her children at gunpoint to eat it. When her beloved oldest son refused, they shot him in front of her.
Shannon paid $1,500 to buy this home for Namburho so she would have somewhere to live after she returned from a stay in the hospital. “I believe God sent Lisa to rescue me from my misery,” Namburho told me, as Shannon squirmed in embarrassment.
This year Shannon organized one of her runs right there in Congo. Shannon ran alongside Namburho, who limped along with her crutch. “She said that if she could run on only one leg, then people would see that anybody could do this,” Shannon said, adding: “That was probably the best day of my life. It was fantastic. It’s one thing to support women rebuilding their lives, and another to see them emerge as leaders. We raised about $50,000, and these are women earning maybe $20 a month, and they raised money for other Congolese women.”

Amazing, huh? Seriously, read the article.
There is another story about a 23 year old who, when she was 19, went to Nepal to volunteer at an orphanage, ended up going into the mountains, and when seeing the children cutting rocks to make a living, found a telephone booth and asked her parents to wire her her whole savings: $5,000 of babysitting money!!! She stayed in the village and with the help of the villagers, built a school and an orphanage. That's what she does now, and she's looking for ways to replicate it in other places. All this started with babysitting money.All of this willingness to sacrifice comfort for others reminds me of some awesome Portland midwives who are opening MamaBaby Haiti, a birth center in Haiti, this very week! Please hold MamaBaby Haiti in your prayers and thoughts. I love seeing midwives who are globally focused and willing to do something about maternal mortality rates in other countries. Many blessings to them in this endeavor.

Now, you may be saying, "Just how sustainable are projects like the ones mentioned above? What happens if the going gets tough?...do they just pull out of the country and leave the people in a worse off, totally-dependent-on-aid state than they were before?" or "Why should some privileged white westerners traipse into a country thinking they are going to be the hero and rescue people" etc. I have those thoughts as well, even as I am here serving in the Philippines.
One of my favorite books of all time, called "When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor...Or Yourself" is a great read on how to go about helping to empower communities to be self-sustaining, and what exactly poverty is. Hint: it's way bigger than not having material things/money. But alot of times we don't think that. And that's why people donate sports ties and gym socks to earthquake victims.

Okay, I'm rambling...

Anyway, check out the D.I.Y foreign aid article. And also check out the postscript where Nicholas Kristoff answers all the complaints that people e-mailed in.
What can YOU do to help?

(Attempting To) Go With the Flow

2010-10-25T08:06:00.005-07:00

Things are flowing. Fast. Life has been crazy crazy kaayo busy here lately. And even though I probably only get 4 hours of sleep a night (or day depending on what shift I'm on), every day I'm trying to just go with this flow.

I won't bore you with the details of math class (let's just say that if there is a hell, it consists of Satan forcing people to do algebra for all eternity), stats class, Visayan class, our main assignment (research papers that we are constantly doing), and everything else the National College of Midwifery throws on our plate...all this besides my 4x per week shifts at the birth center.
Still seeing some hard things to process. And I think my classmates and I are officially caught in the emotional tidal wave called "homesickness." That + just plain stress + seeing hard things that we are trying to process through regarding birth/death/complications/poverty/life = a few tears shed. I'm missing the NW autumn, my friends and church back home, being there as my friends' babies grow up so fast, and other friends get pregnant and/or married. Homesickness is suppose to hit the hardest at 3 months. So I guess it's my due date.
Anyway, food is always a great de-stressor. And I love Filippino food.
This is from my favorite restaurant over here called Blue Caribou. All this was about $5 american. Crazy kaayo indeed.From the far left, clockwise: Caribou (water buffalo) soup, fried whole tuna fish (the Filippinos showed us how to suck the brains out of the head, as they said it is the best part...really though, fish brains are, like, the size of my pinky nail. So it's not gross. Seriously.), some amazing pork dish, a shrimp pancake (battered shrimps and fried into a pancake!), and my favorite dish: Kinilaw: It is raw tuna, cucumber, and some other veggies in a spicy, tangy-citrus-vinegar marinade, served over rice. Lumi kaayo.

Do something at home

2010-10-09T19:47:00.009-07:00

I've been getting alot of inquiries lately from very sweet, eager, prospective midwifery students. Many of them young and many of them wanting to know "what can I do right now to get ready for Newlife?!" I appreciate your enthusiasm! I am usually the first person to say "let's just DO something!"

You may have noticed that my blog posts have sloooowed down as of late. That's partly due to me being crazy busy with classes, assignments, shifts, trying to breathe,
and then not wanting to spend one more second tied to a computer because there are some days where I don't leave this ball and chain behind for 8 hours as I pour over 3 giant midwifery textbooks at once, typing away to get an assignment done.
ALSO though, it's because I have a bajillion questions that I'm constantly processing.
Questions that maybe some people want to hear/read, but questions that some don't and these blog ruminations might cause more people who don't even know me to e-mail me accusing me of not being a Christian and frankly, I hate to wake up in the morning to e-mails of that nature in my inbox. Such is the nature of this thing called a public blog though, right?

Being here for a mere 2 months has goaded me into asking questions, LOTS of questions, that can't be answered in nice, neat, packages. Questions that I, and many people through the ages, have been struggling with forever. I have many questions about suffering, evil, midwifery in a developing world context, does God answer prayer and how/why does He, what exactly does it mean to BE Christ's body here on earth, who am I to these women here, and how can I understand them better which of course equals LOVING them better. etc. etc. etc.

Since I am still "observing" births right now (you observe 10 before you move on to charting, Chart a certain amount before assisting, etc.) since most of my ladies that I labor with have ended up getting transported to DMC before they give birth, instead of "catching babies," most of the time all I can do to love this woman in front of me is get her a glass of water and make sure it is always full, wipe the sweat from her brow, hold her in a supported squat, rub her lower back, breathe with her through a hard contraction...all the stuff I would do at home as a doula but doing it here feels like I'm in kindergarten since I can't speak to them in their language, and I feel a cultural gap 20 miles wide most of the time.
Anyway, all this to say, I have been thinking about what to tell the young women who write to me asking questions, and I've been thinking that what you need to do is:
do everything you can to do something at home.
Love women at home, serve women at home, where you are, right now.
Work towards coming to Mercy Maternity Center if you are so inclined, yes. But what's going to help you the most here (and everywhere) is to cultivate a heart love for women where you are at at this very moment.
See, midwifery is not about "catching babies" (it's the mothers who are having their babies, you have the honor of being a witness/skillful guide if need be),
holding babies (yes, they do get held, and you are one of the people who gets to hold them, but the mother/father/family (and helping to facilitate their bond) they are the main priority). Its about serving women. Loving women. Being a voice for the voiceless (which equals women everywhere, even the U.S.).
The very term midwife is derived from Middle English: mid = "with" and Old English: wif = "woman." With woman.
And it will serve you to be around women who are different from you, have lived different lives and are living different lives. Be with women who have been traumatized, have been victims...you shouldn't have to go very far to find these women, as this is normal life for ALOT of women, everywhere.
Get the idea out of your head that it's easier/will be better somehow to serve women in another culture. It's not. It's way, way harder for a myriad of reasons.

There is so much need all around you in North America at this very moment. Look at the news! Stuff like that happens all the time! People are hurting all around you. The I-5 corridor is the largest hotbed of sex trafficking in the United States. Get involved in the fight to stop it.
Your next door neighbor could be suffering with who knows what.
You want a challenge? It's MUCH harder to be a sold out Christ follower and to live differently in your own hometown than it is to live in a foreign country where you are already wacky and different and you don't have the comforts of home to distract you.
So go volunteer at a battered woman's shelter, a rape crisis hotline, a homeless shelter. Volunteer with some local midwives. Learn what it means to walk with people who haven't had the many privileges you have had. Learn to love women who do things that rub against everything you may value...
(I'm thinking of the "a" word here...abortion. I know that this is a hot button in christian circles. Guess what?..if you are a midwife I GUARANTEE you will meet women who have had abortions, will have abortions, may be forced to have abortions, and it's NOT as black and white of an issue as you may think it is. How are you going to love them?).
Anyway, I have to go study till my brain explodes today, and hopefully it will explode into something resembling a passing grade on my exam tomorrow.
Thanks for contacting me, all you who lovelies who are excited about being a midwife in developing countries! I'm excited to see how life will shape you to love the future women in your care!
xoxo

Night Shift Musings

2010-09-28T09:55:00.006-07:00

So I'm sitting here in the birth center with the geckos. 1:45 am.
It's quiet except for a gecko's chirp, the whooshing of multiple fans (thank the good lord for fans), a midwife's occasional snore, and a laboring woman and her bana padding back forth walking out some contractions.
I've been reading through the blog of another woman who inspires me to no end, Amy Osbourne. I've been learning all about the time she spent serving as a midwife in Darfur with Doctors Without Borders (as I am interested in possibly being a midwife with them one day as well).
Through the magic of technology we have become Facebook/e-mail friends, and I fully plan on meeting her one day and maybe begging her to take me on as an apprentice to learn how to repair obstetric fistula (just to give you a heads up, Amy ;) and maybe even just begging her to hang out, 'cause she is one cool woman.
Anyway, I just read this excerpt on her blog and because from what I gather so far, she wants her blog to be a witness to the world, a signpost to bring attention to what has happened and is happening in Darfur I want to re-post this here. It's not about the genocide, but about being a midwife in another culture.
FYI: "TBA" means Traditional Birth Attendant:"i have two labours right now, which could mean another night of wakefulness, or it could mean nothing of the sort. the women here have this insane ability to reach something like 7 or 8cm dilation and then decide to go to sleep for the night and get up and pick up where they left off in the morning. it's so nothing i've ever seen before. speaking of things i've never seen before... today i had my tba's simulate a delivery in the tukuls to give me an idea of how they do things. most of it was great, but then after the "delivery" one of the tba's puts a cup to the mouth of the tba who had just pretended to catch the baby, and she took a huge mouthful of water and fully spat it at the woman who was simulating having just given birth. i was so surprised and they all just howled at my reaction. they told me that it's to wake the mom up after having given birth, and to make the baby cry so everyone will know that the delivery is finished and the baby has arrived. it's definitely one of those practices that isn't harmful, so i just laughed.
one part of the birth process that i love here is that once the delivery is done, the mom is stable and getting into bed, the baby is wrapped up and everyone is about to come in and meet the baby, the tba makes a motion of handing the baby to the mother and she asks "who gave you this baby?" and the mother puts her hands to her chest and says "God did", they repeat the motions and the question two more times, "who gave you this baby?" "God did", "who gave you this baby?" "God did", and then, depending on the sex of the baby, the mom chooses which breast to feed from first (left for boys, right for girls, i think)."

So awesome.
Here's her blog if you wanna read more.
-----------------------------------------------------
Night shift update: Night shift ended with a 2nd year student and I having to transport the little bata of the mama who was padding around earlier in this post. The poor babe had major shoulder distocia (aka: he was stuck) and inhaled a large amount of meconium (baby's first poo) and was VERY blue and listless and floppy. Pray for this little one who doesn't have a name yet.

Inspiration From Afar

2010-09-25T01:38:00.015-07:00

When I get completely overwhelmed here (which happens often lately) with assignments, birth room shifts, homework, living in a house with 12 other young women, tests, stressing over learning Bisaya, other people's needs that I want to meet but just can't meet, bugs, sweat, hemorrhages that won't stop hemorrhaging, language barriers, trying to communicate love in a foreign language, etc. and wonder "what in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks did I get myself into?!" ...after the initial freak-out, I find inspiration to persevere in the words and work of other women who are doing it. Who are sacrificing their lives to serve women and girls in some of the hardest places on Earth.

Don't be mislead.

This work is not glamorous.
Not in the least.
It is joy and light, yes. But it is blood, sweat, and literal tears.
Sacrificing (no, no. I'm telling you: get that glamorous, lofty notion of "sacrifice" out of your head) your life to give your meager skills and gifts is painful and desperately lonely at times. It's easy to feel useless. Easy to feel like you aren't even making a dent in the injustice, as every time you take a step, the staircase below is illuminated, and the steps seem to go on forever.
It takes real, stretched-to-the-point-of-breaking trust sometimes to believe that in my weakness (and oh lordy, I am weak) He is made strong, and His grace is sufficient for me when I feel utterly useless.
As one of my classmates reminded me tonight: What I am doing right now is learning, step by step. I don't need to have it all figured out right now.
Check out these women and shout out some blessings and prayers, for courage and strength for them.
And maybe for me. Because I suppose I am doing it as well.

AMAZING midwives who serve the women in their communities in the DRC:

Former student here at Newlife, Stephanie Williams. She is serving as a midwife in a clinic in rural Sudan.

Amy Ernst. She serves in Mulo, North Kivu, in the Democratic Republic of Congo with the small non-profit COPERMA. COPERMA "established several support centers to help young victims of the on-going war. Most of the victims are young girls who have suffered the horror of rape; many, as young as twelve, and have had a baby as a result. They are frequently rejected by their families and society, or are orphaned as a result of the violence, and are left to fend for themselves. The children are refused access to basic education and are exposed to further exploitation by society and poverty."

And the amazingly strong and brave women who started and runs COPERMA, Maman Marie.

And last but not least, Dr Elaine Dietsch. One of my midwife-heroes.

In her own words:

"My clinical midwifery involves working primarily with the women and young Congolese girls who have survived sexual assault and torture in this beautiful but war-ravaged country. Many of these women and adolescent girls conceive when they are repeatedly raped by multiple rebels and militia men. The babies, though loved and cherished by their mothers and the women in their communities are often referred to as the “souvenirs of bad memories”. The women I work with each year have pleaded with me to tell their stories to people in Australia. For this reason, I am available to speak with individuals, the media and community groups who invite me to share about life in the Democratic Republic of Congo with them.

"Please transfer me to DMC." Or, What to Do When Your Midwifery Ideal Is Stripped Away

2010-09-06T21:16:00.012-07:00

"Please transfer me to DMC" is what the woman I actively labored with from 10pm last night to 6am this morning requested around 6:15am.
She was exhausted, she had a swollen labia, her baby was asynclitic, she had a funky relationship with her mom who was there on and off throughout.
I had tried every midwifery/doula trick in the book to try to get her labor along
(well, the "tricks" I have access to here. This does not include any of the what I now see as "luxuries" of midwifery work in the NW such as a cornucopia of herbs, homeopathic remedies, chiropractors/acupuncturists to utilize who specialize in birth, etc).
It wasn't the fact that she wanted to transfer that frustrated me, what frustrated me is that all of the births I have been a part of here so far have been turning my little ideal-midwifery-paradigm on it's head! Of course, maybe that's a good thing.
The glaring, blinding, blatant fact is, I'm not laboring in the NW anymore.
So far it's been: women tearing and hemorrhaging at the drop of a hat, dealing with nutritional/health factors that I don't see in the women that I have doula'd for back home, women with much different socio-economic factors, and all of the consequences that come along with that.
I've alot to learn.
I've read alot, but is it an exaggeration to say that I'm realizing that most of my knowledge about birth comes from reading books written by privileged white women and that I think I need to let go of alot in order to learn birth here?

This little guy is goading me alot lately. Here is what he's been saying in my brain:

I'm struggling alot trying to figure out midwifery from a new angle. Is it a new angle? I'm not even sure about that.

How much of my understanding and knowledge about birth and birth practices comes from my own privileged position of being an educated white women with access to abundant healthy food/protein sources?

Is the squatting and hands and knees the best way to birth ACROSS cultures regardless? Or is lithotomy position the best way to birth in countries where women are more prone to tearing because of poor nutrition?
I want to see from all angles, but is my perception of "best midwifery practice" really like a 2 legged birth stool, ready to topple as soon as I move it into another position, and purely based on Western midwifery theory?

Midwives like to pride themselves on knowing birth customs/rituals from other cultures. Maybe I just need to read more? Maybe I just need to SEE more. Experience more.

How and where one will birth her children is more or less based on her social status, privilege, access to education, choices, etc. How can I force my ideas about what is the best way to birth on a woman from another culture who has NOT grown up with the many privileges that I have had? Privileges that have shaped my very bodily tissue and my ideas.

Am I correct in stating that birth-knowledge, the kind that empowers, protects, nurtures, and helps women to birth their children in the safest way possible, should be accessible and applicable cross-culturally, with ideas being molded to fit the particular culture?

Is true midwifery wisdom/knowledge truly applicable to women across ALL cultures regardless? Does midwifery best practice change depending on where one practices? What is "true" midwifery? Obstetric practice attempts to homogenize women...surely midwifery practice doesn't.

Any midwives (or other women who care about midwifery) out there have any opinions?..

:) Asking midwives if they have any opinions about midwifery is like asking the sun if it shines!..or like asking if Por Que No has the best tacos in Portland (which I am CRAVING like no other right now. There is no mexican food in the Phils. "Sour cream" is just plain whipping cream. NO joke!)

If you've made it this far into the post, thanks for listening as my brain and heart attempts to unscramble.

Workin' the night away

2010-08-31T15:14:00.006-07:00

Night Shift. We only look a little tired, eh?

I'm surprisingly awake and alert after working a busy night observing, charting for the other midwives, and running around trying to find anything that would work as a baby blanket since we had blown through our supply of linens for the day.
Strong mamas. Beautiful babies.
Trying to communicate love in a second language.
Been seeing alot of hemorrhaging/tissue tearing lately. I've heard it comes in waves.
I'm literally seeing just how much proper nutrition and adequate protein plays a part in strong healthy tissue growth.
Fortunately and unfortunately I have the feeling I'm gonna be an expert in suturing by the time I leave here in 2 years.
Here are some scenes from my past few birth shifts.

On night shift with my awesome roommate Makayla (she has the bottom bunk), and the lovely mama/baby that we attended (baby pictured above)Most gwapa batas ever here!

Today: Class on differential diagnosis. Working on antepartum paper.
Right now: mango-coconut smoothie.

Do I REALLY get to do this all the time?!

2010-08-26T05:03:00.013-07:00

Yesterday was my first shift in the birth room.
It was awesome.
Half-way through observing the 2nd birth of the morning, the thought, "Wow, I really get to do this, like, ALL the time now?!" flashed through my head
and I realized again that there is no other place I'd rather be than midwifing (yes Jake, that's really a word...check out Merriam-Webster if you don't believe me).
Back home when I had the chance to attend a birth as a doula it was a really special thing. Something I had to sometimes plan months in advance for. Something I had to pre-arrange with work (you can't really just drop everything at your day job to attend a birth whenever you want, you know. Being "on call" all the time for mommas doesn't always fly with full-time employers!).

Anyway, I came on shift at 6am, just in time to join a momma named Crystal Joy, a G1 (first time momma in midwife-speak), as she was pushing. After 15 minutes (I missed her prior 2 hours of pushing!) her new, absolutely gwapa baby girl was in her arms. It was a beautiful, easy birth. She walked down the hall to the postpartum room after about 30 minutes.

Gwapa s'ya! And Crystal Joy was amazing.

Proud grandma and momma.

Becca (one of the short-term interns) and I took the baby over to weigh her while the mom visited the CR (that is the term for bathroom here. It means "Comfort Room," which when you think about it makes lots of sense, no?).

Look at that bata gamai!! Too cute.

The proud papa below was part of the 2nd birth I got to be a part of. The momma, Apple May (how cute is that name?!), labored like a champ on the birth stool to birth her baby.
The dad was great the whole time, holding the mommas hand, wiping her brow, whispering words of encouragement to her, praying fervently at times ;o)
It was really cool to see a couple so young (both births had young mommas in their very early twenties) be so connected.

The mom had to get a few sutures and in the middle of it, though she was exhausted, she managed to perk up long enough tell her bana, "my Milo is cold!"
("Milo" is the drink we give our mommas in labor, and that everyone drinks here. Most often drank at breakfast, you can get it hot, cold with ice, in the powder mix, etc. It's billed as something athletes drink..look at the guy on the package! He means serious business.
It reminds me of chocolate instant breakfast mix, with caffeine.)
It was quite funny. Maybe you just had to be there.

Look at their sweet little bean!

I have day shift again on Sunday, and my first night shift on Monday (10 p.m.-6 a.m). I'm super excited!
And I leave you with scenes from the market that KK took. Always so many beautiful things to capture there.

This is one of my favorites. It's the tri-c-cab drivers hand on the handlebars, next to a picture of his family.

And today...studying and working on my antepartum assignment.

P.s.: Early this morning I had my first bout with some sort of food related sickness. My amazing and sweet housemate, Willow, ran down to the sari-sari store to buy me some fresh buko juice to raise my electrolytes and hydrate me. Say a little prayer for my health if you think of it.

How do you say..."Inverted nipple?"

2010-08-22T22:42:00.019-07:00

Today was my first clinic (that is, health teaching and prenatal exam).

Because it was a Monday clinic, I got to participate in doing initial interviews for all of the new clients. Around 45 lovely ladies came this Monday.Standing room only...I think we need a bigger building!

Ate Susan teaching the new clients how to calculate their EDD (Expected Date of Delivery). The classes are taught in Visayan...or as I found out yesterday from my Visayan teacher, Ate Bebe, it's really called "Bisaya."So after I did all the B.P. checks and Lincey weighed all the women, I shadowed my supervisor, Ate Erme, as she did the initial interviews going over family medical history, allergies, health problems, prior births, figuring out the EDD and how many weeks along they are, etc.
Pretty soon, Ate Susan and Ate Erme told Fonda and I to "combine your powers!" and start doing the initial interviews ourselves.
Gulp.
My "Bisaya" is, how do you say..."Sucky?"
Even after combining our proverbial "powers," we were still bumbling and fumbling through the interviews.
The high point came when we had to ask the client if she has inverted nipples or any vaginal issues. Trying to communicate that in English was slightly embarrassing to everyone involved... because, I mean, what else can you do when you have a language barrier but resort to using hand-gestures to mime the question?!.
Thankfully the clients (bless their patient and grace-filled little hearts) finally caught on to what we were asking before we had to draw pictures!
Oh God, *help me to learn, speak, and communicate in Bisaya!!
And just in case you were wondering: "Sa sulod ang imony atngal o sa gawas?"

*I truly believe that I will not be the best midwife I can be to a woman if I can't speak her language, thereby connecting with her on a deep level. The hallmark of midwifery care, (and one of the things that sets it apart from obstetric care) is an in-depth knowledge of the woman (unique to EACH pregnant woman and baby!), a heart-to-heart trust relationship, etc. I feel that this will not only help her to receive the best care, but also, hopefully, cut down on transfer. If a woman feels safe, free, and open to birth how she wants to then her labor will more often than not proceed without needed intervention. So see, I don't just want to learn Bisaya just so I can avoid embarrassment. There are deeper, more important issues at stake here than my red-face ;o)

(Lazy?) Sunday

2010-08-21T16:19:00.011-07:00

Before I get all heavy on you, I just want to say that we have some great photographers in my class with fancy cameras. Cracker Jacks and KK...can I hire you guys to just take pictures of life in Davao the rest of the time I'm here?
These are the guapa kids who hang out outside our house laughing and playing every day. They are little cuties who run up to you and say "What's your name?! What's your name?!" every time they see you.

On our way to the market to get fruit and vegetables:

At the market:

Meditation for today (this is the catalyst):
"The message of Jesus introduces us to a different way of approaching

God—not as a violent power imposed from above, but rather as a powerless
presence entering our world from below. This powerless God still
instigates a revolution against the powers of this world. However, this
revolution is not won through brute strength, but through weakness."
Peter Rollins, Orthodox Heretic

I am living in a world where birth and death sit side-by-side, and death is not sterilized, packaged neat and tidy, and hidden from view here.
Yet, death is the world's ultimate definition of weakness. We are scared to death of death and even more so, scared of our utter helplessness, powerlessness, and vulnerability before it.
I am reminded of the quote above in so many ways as I meditate on Jesus' death (the death that means life for us...There's something to meditate on!), and the reality that as a midwife I will experience the marvel of life (and sometimes death) on a regular basis.
I am learning to practice my faith away from the "comfortable," "powerful" churches in North America (...but if you really get into people's lives you realize: no one and nothing is really "comfortable"). I promised Rose I wouldn't come back to the states bitter towards North America, or my church community, because of the comfort and strength that we enjoy back home. As meditation leads to living out a deeper sense of weakness, humility, and poverty, will I become bitter towards those who "have much?" Even myself and where I come from?
As I meditate on the fact that I worship a God who came to Earth in weakness, in humility, in poverty, and allowed Himself to literally be beaten up, I realize on a deeper level who, in my daily life, I tend to want to identify with...and to be honest with you it's not the weak, the humble, the impoverished, or the beaten up.
I know that as I continue seek God honestly, He won't let me stay in a place where I can seek after power or comfort. He is just not found there.
I have no answers. This is just what I am thinking about today.

Today I am doing laundryAnd working on my big Antepartum paper, and then I will attempt to struggle through practicing another Visayan lesson.
Although, it kind of makes me feel like my brain is folding in half. But I am determined! And I want my Visayan to extend beyond just adding "sa" before every noun (that's for you, Erin).Besides the birth center, this is where I live for the next 2 years. Right here at this desk.

And because it is Sunday and I have a hankering for some American humor as I work on question #28: "Define, draw, and describe in detail each of Leopold's maneuvers"...Andy Sandberg, take me away! (...just kidding, I really do love to work on these assignments. No I really am serious people):

Ahhh!..but because I live in the Philippines, I can't watch any American t.v shows online (sad!) so I am relegated to watching YouTube clips of shows that people video recorded off of their t.v! Yes, I am suffering for Jesus.

The Hospital

2010-08-16T21:54:00.004-07:00

I cried today.
I just got back from touring the hospital where we transfer our clients if an emergency arises or if we have to screen them out of our care during their pregnancy.
Let me preface this post by saying that I know it's complicated.
Things are not black and white.
There are doctors at this hospital, and all hospitals in developing countries, that work tirelessly for the well being of the patients in their care.
They care, they are not villains.
Also like most doctors/nurses in dev. countries they are underpaid and understaffed. I know that this hospital is the only place (besides other under-resourced small lying-in clinics, and Mercy Maternity Center, the birth center where I volunteer and learn) that women living in poverty on Mindanao have access to when an emergency arises, and I don't wish to disrespect these women by insensitively talking about how horrible everything is or how North America is so much better...lord knows we have maternal care problems of our own.
My critique is not toward the hospital or the staff per se. My critique and tears are over these systems of poverty in our world. The injustice of it all. That sounds so broad and noble. It's not and I'm not trying to be. The reality is horrible.
The fact is that a room the size of a small gymnasium absolutely packed with old metal beds from the 1930's with paint chipping off all over, where 2-3 women are lying together, hooked up to IV's, family members fanning them and ambu-bagging the babies themselves so that they don't die, etc. etc. etc. is how/where most women labor in developing countries.
And THIS is the reason why I'm here and why I want to be a midwife who opens birth centers like Mercy and trains indigenous midwives.
But those are just words; easy to say, harder to do. I have to confess that as I witnessed today what I've only read about, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of "holy-crap-this-is-much-too-big-for-me-how-in-the-hell-am-I-going-to-do-this-when-I-can-barley-walk-through-this-room-without-crying?"
I wish I could somehow post the scents that I smelled and the sounds I heard so you, reader, could witness what I witnessed: the daily life of most of the women in the world.
God, please give me courage to do what I feel called to do, and the wisdom to know how to do it.
I'm scared but I am willing.

The Storm

2010-08-16T15:23:00.008-07:00

The storm is not the 7 book reports we have due in 4 days on top of studying for Visayan class. Nor the huge Antepartum paper that is due in a few weeks,
nor the clinical rotations.

Last night as we were working on the squall of book reports,

we heard rain so loud it sounded like ocean waves roaring out of the sky This was my first tropical storm. It was amazing. Lightening ripping through the sky. Thunder so loud it shook your heart in your chest.Weather report from Davao:
(sorry the video is side-ways, but you can still see/hear some cool lightning/thunder...the rain was blowing sideways on me as I was filming this)

In the aftermath 30 minutes later the streets were flooded and there was a symphony of frogs that came out to sing the storm away. The lightening didn't stop flashing in the distance for another half hour or so.
Our house had no damage...just a little water come in under the door in the kitchen.
Our nieghbors didn't fare as well as we did. Ate Nora just told me that the people across the street from us who own the little sari-sari store have a completely flooded house.
And because the canals along the streets are filled with trash that floated down, the water has nowhere to recede. Ate Nora said that her house was blowing back and forth in the strong winds and they have some flooding in their house as well. She said she prayed for God's protection last night and "He is faithful."

These are scenes from the market earlier.
Look at those mga puti!

It's all happening...

2010-08-15T18:58:00.002-07:00

Practicing Visayan and vitals this morning.

We receive our first big assignment today, have more orientation, Visayan lesson #2,
I shadow in the clinic this afternoon,
I'm on cooking this week so I'm making dinner for the house tonight...
It's all happening!
Thank you God for your blessings in my life. I still can't believe I'm here!

Vitals Class and Filipino Party Time

2010-08-14T16:48:00.012-07:00

This is a super heavy picture post (that's the best part about blogs, right?) so sorry if you have a dino-computer that uploads slowly.

First off, this is what I woke up to yesterday morning. A moth the size of a small bat almost flew into my head when I went outside to the laundry area.
Kayla's hand is next to it for scale. I only shrieked a little.

And then I went upstairs to the bathroom and heard Faith Hill being blasted out of a boom-box by these guys working on a roof. "How do I liiiive without you? I want to know..."

We were assigned to our prenatal teams. I am the green team (no I don't have to wear green every shift) so that means I have prenatals every Thursday morning with Ermie, my sweet and sassy Filipina supervisor.

(Green team left to right: Ruth, Kayla (KK to me), Abigail, and moi)

Vitals class!

Midwives in the making

So yesterday was our super fun-filled Filipino outing day. The whole staff took us out on the town for some fun and food. Lots of food.

This is my supervisor Ermie (the sweet and sassy one I was telling you about). She is forcing me to eat durian!! Not really, but I best behave or she might.

But here I am trying durian. Oh durian...I had a Filipina co worker in the states who told me that durian was amazingly delicious and tasted like vanilla pudding. No. Try sweet-onion-garlic-sock-pudding.

I was burping durian the whole night. Not fun.

Who knew the David statue was in the Phils?! You can imagine the pics all of the Filipino teenagers who were hanging out there were getting of this monstrosity...Then we all went out for halo-halo (translation: mix-mix).
A crazy neon concoction of Ube ice-cream, candied fruit, Ube jam, jello cubes, adzuki beans, rice crispy bits, shaved ice, and sweetened condensed milk.
Then they took us to tour this beautiful resort that not only showed the sculptures of Napoleón Abueva, (the national artist of the Philippines, who is also considered the "father of Philippines sculpture") but had a wild orchid and butterfly sanctuary!
Half of us rode in the jeepney...

On the way we experienced the fun world of Filipino snack food. This was my snack of choice. It was like corn-nuts only with more of a flavorful "bite." And it was the only one that didn't have MSG...listed anyway.The rest of us rode in the back of the Mercy Maternity Center ambulance. Here we are snacking away.

Jaqueline next to one of the sculptures. Why yes, we are so arty.

So many AMAZING flowers in the Phils. Like a fairytale or something.

And apparently Noah's Ark is in the Philippines! Who knew?!

When you see a crazy fraggle rooster like this, you know God has a sense of humor.A bunch of us by the turtle pond.

Jaqueline, KK, and I with moustache tree.

It's not really called that but I think it should be.

I am loving these sweet ladies that I have the privilege of serving women with. They are going to make fabulous midwives.

Baby Check

2010-08-13T15:10:00.008-07:00

After our first vitals class yesterday (pics to come), Maria grabbed me and I went to do a baby check with her.
This inahan was one of her conts (continuity of care clients) and this is the guapa maayo wee one named Charity. Not sure what her nickname is...everyone has a nickname here. There is even a place on the charts for "nickname."
I haven't received mine yet, although it might be BB. That's better than the alternative that my house came up with.

No, I will not tell you what it was.

Maria and momma

Just had my first vitals class so I am attempting to take babies heart tones (got it!) and resps (more difficult than I thought it would be)Guapa siya!!!!

Today the whole entire Filipino staff are taking us maputi out on the town for the whole day! Many adventures await. I'm assuming balut is one of them....

Many pics to follow.

Philippines: Home and food tour

2010-08-12T15:38:00.000-07:00

If you know me you know that I love food, and love having people over to my home to chat over food. I am definitely a foodie and have a theory that life cannot be enjoyed to the fullest unless it is shared over food with other people. So, here is a little photo tour of my new home and a tour of some of the super yummy food that I am coming to know and love in the Philippines. So now you can pretend that we are sharing a meal together. Sort of.

Besides the norm like watermelon, pineapple, avocado (which is considered a fruit here) and bananas (except that it is all fresh over here and not shipped a bajillion miles to the local Whole Foods) there is some exotic fruit that reminds me of something off of a Super Mario Brothers video game or something...

...Such as Mangosteen. You peel off the leathery, bitter shell (which I am told has the most antioxidants than any other fruit in the world and it can be made into tea!) and behold, there is little white, juicy, sweet/sour slices of goodness inside! Yum! Here is my lovely classmate Jacqueline demonstrating the deliciousness of Mangosteen.

Then there is Rambutan...seriously looks like something Mario jumps on for a prize that gives you 1,000 points. It is sweet, sour and slightly grape like and gummy to the taste.

One of my favorites is buko juice. the juice of a fresh, young coconut. My classmate Lincey and I are getting our samurai on. We have decided we are going to get a machete from the market to share so we can be super cool coconut-busting ninjas.
Buko juice is excellent for re-hydration, restoring electrolyte balance, and has many anti-fungal and healing properties. And it makes a fabulous slushy when frozen. Then of course you can eat the coconut meat inside.

And here is a collage of my home.

Middle Photo: the Orange House!! My new humble abode.
From top left, clockwise: top deck of the orange house; view from the deck; living room. Cool bamboo furniture, eh? A local craftsman made them all; staircase to 2nd floor where my bedroom is; bedroom closet shared with 3 other fabulous women; a little friend. We have many of these little friends around here; dining room where we share meals and plot to take over the world with midwifery and Jesus-love; Mercy Maternity Center 2 doors down; the little sari-sari store across the street. These little convenience stores are EVERYWHERE on the side of every road; view out of my bedroom window; a part of the kitchen; my side of the bedroom. I have top bunk.
Gotta run because I have my first class in a bit: vitals! Then I have my first Visayan lesson at 1pm. Now I won't have to just smile and nod and try not to look vacant-eyed and confused when people try to talk to me and I can't understand them...well, I probably still will. But hopefully I'll get better. Quickly.

Welcome to the Philippines!

2010-08-11T02:11:00.001-07:00

(pic above, shot from the window next to my bed when I woke up this morning)

It's 5:30 am. I'm sitting downstairs at my desk in the study room. Listening to the sound of the balut vendor's horn outside. I hear Erin, one of the supervisor midwives, shudder loudly from the other room. I say: "Was there a spider?!" She says: "No...there was a very large cockroach on my neck."

Welcome to the Philippines!
These are the lovely ladies in my cohort (taken at orientation in Clatskanie, WA a few days before we flew over):So here I am. I am overwhelmed, thankful, awe-struck, jet lagged, sweaty (this heat is definitely going to take some getting use to!), excited, scared..."WOW!" and "HOLY CRAP!" pretty much sums it up. Even though I have visited this place before and stayed here for 2 weeks, it is a bit surreal that this is my new home and that the next 2 whole years will be spent here in this wild, ugly, beautiful, confusing, interesting, somewhat smelly city. That may seem a bit cruel, but there is a perpetual burning smokey smell in the air recognizable as the Philippines as soon as I got off the plane in Manila. Still it was oddly reassuring when I got off the plane. The familiarity already setting in.

Here are some pics:
Fonda and I were very excited that we had a chance to stop at Sleepy Monk before we left for the Phils. You can take a girl out of the NW, but you can't take her coffee.

Here we are after about 15 hrs. of flying crashed out at the Manila airport waiting for our flight to Davao.

Flying into Davao City.

The 2nd years, some of the staff, and my awesome friends Bethany and Tim all came to pick us dazed and confused 1st years up at the airport.

Driving to the orange house next to Mercy Maternity:

Our first breakfast together. Some of the Filipina helpers whipped up an amazing breakfast of fruit salad (fresh mango, papaya, avocado, coconut, pineapple, some unidentified citrus-like fruit, banana) with scones and fresh buko juice (the juice of a young coconut). This is the orange house where I am living.

Note the map of global maternal deaths hanging over our dining room table. It's so AWESOME that I get to live with a group of like minded women, and as we share meals together we are reminded of our common goal and purpose here; to serve these beautiful mommas with Christ's love and work towards facilitating health and wholeness in women's lives. Let the journey begin!

Bon Voyage!

2010-08-06T01:00:00.000-07:00

The time has finally come!
Today I leave to start my new life at Newlife International School of Midwifery in the Philippines.
After 5 years of wrestling with this midwifery calling, I am finally going to be able to become a midwife.
After the last 3 years of going through alot of pain and loss in my personal life, and learning how to trust God in the midst of insurmountable odds (read Rick's latest blog post on just that. It really describes my last 3 years exactly) I feel beyond blessed that this is all really happening!

I have learned that when "we feel like our situation is a thread that could be pulled and our whole world would unravel like a knitted scarf, we need to know that God is holding the thread. We aren’t and the circumstance isn’t, God is holding us and keeping it all together. We need to know that God has called us and has authored our story and his calling comes out of love and goodness and kindness that he has shown us in Jesus. He didn’t call you to drop you, he called you to love you."
He has shown me his love indeed.

It has been a bittersweet week full of joyful celebration with my closest friends, feasts (oh Portland...how I will miss your foodie culture), tears, laughter...and of course I couldn't be doing this without the ongoing support of all of you out there who believe that women, and the health of mothers around the world, are worth investing in.I'm so excited to meet all of my classmates tomorrow. I am so excited for orientation, to move into my new house, to start work in the birth center...I could go on and on.
I'm so excited to experience the new ways that I will get to see God's love and grace, faithfulness, acts of creation as I witness life being birthed into this world, and excited to learn how to see Jesus in a culture that is not my own, and how other people around the world experience following Christ in their daily lives.
If you think of it, pray for openness, courage, strength, patience, and wisdom for me on this journey. And that I can love abundantly.
My next blog post will most likely be coming from the Philippines.
I leave you with some scenes from my last week in this place I feel privileged to call my home, the beautiful Pacific NW. I will miss it.
Love you all, friends. See you on the other side!
xoxo Me and little Emmaus. He's grown SO much since I attended his birth about a month ago.

Erica praying words of wisdom over me.

I will miss these 2 crazy cats

I will miss you Michelle!Out on the town with my ladies. I will SO miss celebrating life with all of you at Imago.Little Shea butter at my going away party. I can't believe he'll be 2 years old when I get finished at Newlife.

p.s: See my side-bar for my address in the Philippines. Care packages are welcomed!..
I like dark chocolate. And Bath & Body Works stuff. And encouraging notes. ;)

Hot Buttons

2010-08-03T09:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not one to shy away from "hot button" debates. But then again I don't go out my door in the mornings seeking arguments around every corner.
As a Christ follower I believe that humans usually don't err on the side of grace and forgiveness (I'm just as judgmental as anyone else), and when we (especially "we" meaning well-meaning Christians) start dialoguing about said "hot buttons" things typically get fugly, and the stereotype of christians being fugly people oftentimes gets justified (and I don't mean Justified.
But then again, maybe a good old fashioned dance party would bring peace to a heated debate?..I should try this next time...)Still, being a midwife, women's health worker, etc. one cannot ignore that abortion is one of the very real causes of maternal death and although this is a hot button topic, it needs to be discussed in a thoughtful, loving way with regard to the life of the woman who has suffered the abortion.
Life is crazy, complex, and there isn't alot of justice seen firsthand especially in the lives of the poor. All that to say, I found this article today that has to do with abortion in the Philippines and maternal death. Here are some key points:

"...the report called on the Church to “demonstrate respect for the nation’s constitution, which recognizes religious freedom and the right of individuals to establish their family in accordance with their own religious beliefs and conscience.”

Based on experience in other countries, Padilla said legalization here would not necessarily lead to indiscriminate abortion.

“Where abortion is legal, like in Canada and Turkey, abortion rates did not increase while the Netherlands, with its liberal abortion law and widely accessible contraceptives and free abortion services, has one of the lowest abortion rates in the world,” she said.

Padilla noted that legal restriction on abortion here is out-dated, having been lifted directly from the old Spanish Penal Code of 1870. However, she pointed out that in 1985, Spain—also a predominantly Catholic country like the Philippines—allowed abortion on certain grounds.

“Last February 24, 2010, Spain approved a new law on abortion that further eases restrictions by allowing the procedure without restrictions up to 14 weeks and gives 16- and 17-year olds the right to have abortions without parental consent.”

She noted that other predominantly Catholic countries allow abortion including Belgium, France, Italy, Poland, and Hungary (whose constitution protects life from conception but permits abortion up to 12 weeks of gestation).

“Recent abortion liberalizations occurred in Colombia, Mexico City (legalized abortion in the first trimester without restriction in April 2007) and Portugal (allows abortion up to 10 weeks of pregnancy),” Padilla said.

She said as early as 2006, the United Nation’s Committee on Elimination of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW Committee) urged the Philippine government to “consider reviewing the laws relating to abortion” to reduce maternal mortality rate.

The reports said according to the World Health Organization, the Philippines has one of the highest maternal mortality rate in the Western Pacific Region, at 230 maternal deaths per 100,000 live births, compared to regional average of 82."

And here's another recent article on abortion and maternal mortality in the Philippines.

Dance party, anyone?

Eye-yi-yi!..7 Days!

2010-07-29T11:22:00.000-07:00

Here's the latest edition, and my LAST edition from the states, of my newsletter:

~*Journey To Newlife~*

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

2010-07-28T11:50:00.000-07:00

Scenes from the past week...

Enjoying the last few moments here with my friends.

8 days left before I move to Newlife International School of Midwifery in the Philippines!
It's bittersweet.
I am exploding with anticipation, and yet sad to leave everyone here.

My last trip to Cannon Beach with Jake, Rose, Drew, and Michelle. We had sand, sun, bonfire, Haystack Rock, good beer, and good food...lots of good food. It was pretty much a perfect day.
(click to make BIG)
My last day to hang out with Holly and Karyn. These ladies have been through SO much with me over the past few years. I will miss them (and their ridiculously cute babies) like crazy.
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What the Heck Is a Balikbayan Box?

2010-07-19T22:24:00.001-07:00

I feel a bit like a chicken running around with her head cut off today. Running around getting all of the last little details taken care of before I move for 2 years to the Philippines, and all the little supplies to take with me to make my home at Newlife more home-y.
I decided, after some wise counsel here at home and abroad, to ship what is called a "Balikbayan Box" over to the Phils full of stuff that is comforting and reminds me of home. One of the midwives who works at Mercy Maternity Center, Erin, told me that I need to start thinking of that place as my home.
So she told me to bring over whatever makes me feel like I'm at "home" cause after a month or two, when I'm working like mad, getting homesick, and would kill just to watch some cheesy t.v show that I would never even watch back home, or even eat a McDonald's burger (which I also never do at home...but oh wait, McDonald's has even infiltrated the Philippines. So I guess I'm safe there) I will be so glad that I did ship some personal belongings over!
Favorite pillows, favorite hair/bath products (there's not many curly haired, Aveda-loving people over in the Philippines!) candles, Nag Champa, a few novels, DVD's (although I could get pirated versions over there for, like, a quarter! haha), favorite chocolate/snacks (again, no Trader Joe's right down the street), favorite pieces of art, etc.
It's $100 flat to ship a Balikbayan Box with no weight limit, so my mind is racing with the possibilities.
17 days!!!

I've been spending the last few precious moments I have here with all of my awesome friends, and really cherishing the time here like I never have before. Even the smallest things seem to have alot more significance lately.
Scenes from the past week, and things I'm going to miss:

Berry picking with Michelle

Shea!

Dinner on the better than "Better Homes and Gardens" deck

And Drew's impromptu bonfire to make giant S'mores

My amazing tattoo artist Sarah at Hopeless Ink (go see her!)

The wackiness that is Sarah and Jeffrey

Cruisin the Gut in downtown couvetown! Yes, I will even miss this.

My great friends at my great old workplace, Moe's...the coolest barbershop in town

My future bike. Maybe when I'm done at Newlife. haha

Guerrilla Midwife

2010-07-17T09:53:00.000-07:00

If you haven't seen it yet, I HIGHLY recommend checking out the documentary Guerrilla Midwife (click the pic to be taken to YouTube to watch it).
If you don't know much about the worldwide industrialization of childbirth (especially in the West), or why there is a great need for skilled birth attendants in developing countries who can balance trust in birth and also knowledge of when to use medical interventions, this documentary does a terrific job of discussing all avenues related to maternal issues.
This is not an abstract, far-from-home issue.
How a woman gives birth, how she is treated at birth, affects the whole world.

"There is a WAR being fought day and night, in every country on this planet, to gain an asset more precious than gold or oil - it is our human capacity to LOVE that is at risk. The battlefield is women's individual bodies when they are most vulnerable and in need of protection, at the time they are giving birth. It is at the fulcrum of birth and the first hour thereafter that individuals develop either an intact ability or an impaired capacity to love. It is your capacity to love that either makes you helpful or harmful to all sentient beings and our environment. Technology, when used inappropriately in birth has disempowered women, harmed the bonding process and sabotaged breastfeeding and our essential human right to love and be loved. This is the burden and the gift of the Guerrilla Midwife. It is not only environmental disasters that are standing in between WOMEN but the "Big Business" of BIRTH."

You can read more about Robin Lim here.

Stories of Mothers Saved Video

2010-07-16T10:17:00.000-07:00

"Stories of Mothers Saved is a collection of individual stories of women who have lived to tell their stories - who did not die needlessly in pregnancy or childbirth - due to a key action taken by her, her family, the community, a health worker, a political leader or others. These stories highlight what works and what must be done at all levels - from saving money to secure transportation to the health facility when labor begins, to having access to family planning services, to receiving an emergency caesarean section, to attending a well equipped and staffed facility because the government prioritized maternal and newborn health - even providing girls access to education."

For more info visit The White Ribbon Alliance.

Haircutting Fundraiser!

2010-07-16T09:11:00.000-07:00

This Sunday, July 18th I will be having an all day hair-cutting party for donations at Jake and Rose's house. I'll be cutting hair all the live-long day, so come on over and get purty (or handsome) for a good cause!

Sunday July 18th
1 p.m-???
Jake and Rose's house
2308 Franklin st.
Vancouver, WA 98660

See you there!

~*Midwife to the World*~