Well, after a month furlough in Canada, I am back in the Philippines. It feels glorious to once again smell, feel, tast and hear the beautiful Phillipines; although this time it is wonderfully familiar rather than new and exciting.
However, there is one this that no matter how many thousand is never old and familiar....being the first hands to welcome a Newlife and share the birth of a baby with a family. My first shift back at Mercy was the Day after I arrived and with good 'ole jet leg kicking in, it was all I could do to stay awake. For once I was actually thankful that we did not have any labors that shift!
The next day I was in the birthroom for night shift, (talk about counterproductive to try to establish the Filipino time zone!) and it was excellent. Within 39 min, a brand new wet and squirming little baby boy was born quickly and perfectly into a world a lot larger and colder than his previous address :) But the love expressed on his mama's face was warm enough to heat up all of southeast Asia! Whha, I just love it!
Christmas Eve a bunch of us went over to the birthroom and had a candlelight service. My beautiful mom and dad sent me a honking huge package across the Pacific Ocean and it was so awesome to experience some of home. Proud to say, I made it like 2 weeks without peeking in the slightest. 
I didn't actually realize how much I missed them until I read my Dad's stellar tear-jerking letter and began to bawl, and so did nearly every other girl as the red letter complete with cartoons was passes around the circle. 
(Ya I am a beaker, I asked for a Taber's Medical Dictionary for Christmas!)
Well now to the climax of my story and the focus of my life, midwifery, babies, women, new families, placentas, IVs, Fetoscopes, scrubs, and lots and lots of prayer. 
Georgia Macad is a Canadian from the lower mainland who began the Abundant Grace of God Maternity Clinic in October 2006. Her ministry there is astounding and far-reaching and it was such a blessing and honor to join her for 3 weeks. We lived at the clinic with Georgia, her tribal husband, Achao, their baby, Emmaus, two young Filipino midwives, some Filipino students and countless others coming and going. 
Pregnant woman would come from the surrounding villages and stay in georgia's house/clinic for a week before and after giving birth. It gave me a whole newperspective on the relational blessings of midwifery. Georgia’s hospitality, generosity and heart for the women was so inspiring and I learnt so much from her about what it means to be a missionary midwife. 
Cathy had her baby the first night we were there, it was pretty intense because she had a shoulder dystocia!
Early morning we were roused out of bed for a 17 yr old labor, Marziza, the morning was beautiful!
Mariza delivered at 10:31am that morning
Me, Mariza, her baby boy and Belyn- the primary midwife for her birth
Across the street about 3 houses and a few little shacks down, flames licked the night sky. The girls from our house were the first people running onto the scene. Joy ran over and alerted the clinic and, because the fire was spreading fast, they transported all of the labors and post partums to Jenn Germain's house, (a married midwife with seven kids.) I have never seen a fire so big. As Serena and I ran towards the flames I prayed, loud and urgent. The whole corner where you turn off Dacudao to Mercy was up in flames. About a dozen families were scrambling to save what they could from the lower floors. A woman was sitting by the ditch wailing, "my balay, my balay" (house) as she watched it get devoured by the flames. Seeing the need, a few of us began grabbing the piles of clothes, blankets and shoes from the street and throwing them into the grass on the other side of the street. Four or five young Filipino guys kept running into their house and throwing armloads of anything they could salvage onto the road for us to throw away from the fire. My perfuse effort and the heat from the fire made my head feel like it was going to explode. 
We worked for about 8-10 minutes before the first fire truck showed up. Quickly I ran onto the sidewalk beside the fire truck just before it started spraying. Serena got blasted a bit from the water. By this time there were hundreds of people gathered in the streets. Another fire truck came, then another, soon the street was crowded with 8 or 9 fire trucks.
The darkness of the night was sliced open by the ominous flame engulfing charr-broiled frames of what used to be homes, and by the urgent flashing of a what seemed to be a million red lights. The silence of the night was sliced open by the yells of the firemen, the crackling of the flames and the shriek of the sirens. But, what sliced the darkness and the silence the most was the dark, silent look of hopelessness on the faces of those who had just lost everything.
Within a few minutes, the spray of the water overpowered the flames and they were drenched into submission. Slowly the crowds sauntered away to their homes, and slowly the fir trucks packed up and left the scene. Slowly I leaned my tired shoulders against the telephone pole on the corner just below the Mercy Maternity Sign and looked with a heaviness at what was before me. Mangled heaps of ancient washer machines, baskets, pots and piles of clothes were on the street opposite each place were a door had once stood. On each heap sat the victims, shoulders slouched, eyes fixed on the devastation, clothes reeking of smoke. There was nothing more for me to do than pray. My bare feet sloshed through the flooded street to my home three doors down, the pavement still hot from the flames, my face still burning from the heat. I estimate about 12 families lost their homes tonight. The whole corner was burnt and there were shacks stacked upon shacks that went up in flames. 
Please, please, please pray
