Vita donum Dei

Merci

2007-11-27T14:36:00.000+09:00

Thanksgiving. It's never been much of a nostalgic holiday for me - well, not the kind that woke me up before the sun when I was a little girl, and not the kind that holds much family tradition. Instead, each year has created its very own distinct flavor. This year is no different...

Hannah and I woke up with an exciting challenge ahead of us: an oven-less Thanksgiving. We were prepared. We had done all the menu planning, the fridge was brimming with groceries for the occasion, and at last, the day had come to put our somewhat far-fetched ideas on trial. The turkey and stuffing were accounted for. Eva, our host, would take care of them. But the corn, the green bean casserole, the sweet potatoes, the pumpkin pie and the cranberry sauce were to be the ultimate test of our culinary skills.

As you can imagine, pumpkins, cranberries and sweet potatoes are an impossibility to find in any of our local, tropical markets. We went to the newest and biggest supermarket around without any luck. Thankfully, we had an old can of cranberry sauce that had been sitting on our spice rack since we arrived in the Philippines in June. Since it had only slightly exceeded its expiration date, we decided that a little extra sugar and spice would do the trick :)

We managed to find some squash that was, at least, in the shape of a pumpkin. We also found some pink potatoes that turned out to be quite deliciously sweet! We boiled, mashed, and creamed them together to make the sweet potatoes, and then used the left over to make our specialty graham-cracker crust pumpkin cheesecake pie.

Our "Pumpkin" Squash & Sweet Potatoes

Our Graham-Cracker Crust Pumpkin Cheesecake Pie

All in all, it turned into a wonderful new memory... but the best was yet to come! We arrived at Eva's house at 6:00. After visiting for a bit and laying all the goods out on their dining table, we were ready to fill our plates and tummies. As we closed our eyes in prayer, my phone vibrated - one of my patients was in active labor back at the clinic... I had to run!

And run I did. Hannah and I sprinted down the alley to the main street and caught the first empty cab we could find. The hundreds of other cars on the street didn't seem to care that a baby was about to be born, and that I desperately wanted to be there for it all! After anxiously sitting through patches of traffic, we finally arrived at the tricycle terminal and hopped on the nearest one to finish our ride home. Completely out of breath, we tiptoed into the birth room hoping that we weren't too late.

Rose was a patient that I had been seeing since June. She was 13 weeks pregnant when we found out via an Ultrasound that her placenta was completely covering the opening of her uterus, which would ultimately result in the need of a C-section. She had neither the money nor the emotional strength to consider a C-section, so we began praying together each week, asking the Lord to move her placenta upwards as her baby grew... Her labor began on Thanksgiving day, 3 weeks before her due date. She had gotten a second ultrasound that very morning, but I had yet to see the results...

As I walked into the birthroom, I prayed again that Rose's labor would be smooth, normal and beautiful! The second ultrasound revealed a high-lying placenta - all was well! And, less than an hour after our arrival, a beautiful little blessing took her very first breath of air. She was perfect!

Once the commotion and excitement of the birth subsided, I asked Rose if she had thought of any names for her baby girl. She thought for a brief moment, then turned to me and said, "You, you will name her." What an honor. What a joy. What a privilege not only to be the first to hold her, but the one to give her a name that would last her entire lifetime! I didn't know what to do, what to say... Overwhelmed, I explained that I would need some time to think of the perfect name for this little miracle. I knew I wanted it to express my thanks to God for answered prayer, and her being born on Thanksgiving day was no coincidence :) I thought and thought, and finally, with Hannah's help, I decided to add what's left of the French in me and named her Merci Joy. Merci.

No time for scrubs, but just in time for Merci Joy

Happy Thanksgiving!

Photo Gallery

2007-11-16T21:32:00.000+09:00

For anyone interested, I've just posted a photo gallery of all the pictures I've taken so far... I've tried and tried to whittle them down to an acceptable amount... but when I look at how many I still have, all my efforts seem to be have been in vain... *sigh*

Enjoy!

Another Day...

2007-11-12T20:51:00.000+09:00

It's only 19:51, but my body is aching to nestle into bed, into that peaceful mosquito-net cocoon of mine that so gently envelops my tired frame night after night... Yes, it's been a long day.

It started at 2:00 this morning, when the all-familiar buzz and flutter of my phone pulled me from a deep sleep. It was Hannah, calling me to the clinic to assist her with her patient's labor. I rolled my heavy body off of the top bunk and as my feet plunked onto the concrete floor, blood finally started pumping through my sluggish limbs. As I carefully directed my energy toward finding two separate pantlegs, I blinked my eyes a couple times in hopes of dissolving the comatose expression from my face. I gathered my things and stepped out into the dark night. A couple of dog barks and rooster croaks later, I was at the door of the clinic. Ruby, a mom of 4 (soon to be 5), was laying on her side, holding her belly and wincing through a contraction. My face tightened into an awkward, early-morning-smile and I began charting: fetal heart-tones, mother's position changes, maternal blood pressure, intensity and interval of contractions, etc.
3 hrs and 20 mins later, baby Kirsten Abby took her first, gargly breath.

2 hrs after that, we left the clinic with that "post-birth" spring in our step, ready to start the day!

Hannah and I went for a morning jog in the cemetery - refuge of peace and quiet in the midst of a busy city - of a busy life.

We showered, checked our emails, and were off to Starbucks before 10:00. Yes, after 5 months of intense heat, humidity and sweat, the guilt of making an occasional visit to an air-conditioned oasis has vanished. And for those of you who are offended by the fact that this particular oasis happens to be Starbucks... well, what's in a name?

After spending time with the Lord and sipping a delicious 1/2 decaf cappuccino (that also means 1/2 caffeinated - yes, desperate times call for desperate measures), we dove into our Microbiology study books and plugged through 2 chapters of intense confusion together. By the time we left, it was 15:00 and it was time to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week. We quickly planned a menu and walked over to Cherry Foodarama, our preferred food supplier. An hour later, we were home again, at last. We loaded the fridge, and I was off again to visit one of my own patients who delivered yesterday. The sun was setting, my legs were complaining. But as I stepped through their front door, the Lord infused me with His joy and strength, and it turned out to be a wonderful time.

I came home at dusk, just in time to help make and eat dinner.

It's almost 20:57 and after 2 months of bloglessness, I find myself before my computer screen once again after a long, long day with a simple story.

Thank you, Lord for Another Day... Thank you, Lord for This Day!

TinRooftopia

2007-08-29T10:05:00.000+09:00

Last Monday, the entire Filipino population that we've befriended in the past few months was at our doorstep... it was Moving Day for the Americanos!
We started at 9:00 in the morning and with all hands on deck, we were completely moved in by noon! The typhoon off the coast had drenched Manila in heavy rains and floods for the previous 2 weeks, but not a single drop fell to the ground on Monday.... instead, the Lord gave us a crisp blue sky and lots of brilliant sunshine!

We've been in our new house just one week, and it already feels like home. We're next door to the clinic and if we peek off our porch, we can see the birthroom just across the way!Roosters compete all day for the loudest cock-a-doodle-doo, and the smoke of cooking fires drifts through our windows, reminding us of the simplicity of life. I could go on and on, but instead of making a futile attempt at describing every last detail, I will give you a virtual tour through my new little home...

Our kitchen & dining room:

If you can spot the colorful mugs hanging from the cabinet,
you will see my favorite part of the kitchen...

The little white door leads to the CR (Comfort Room):

This shot is from the front door into the house; the kitchen is on your
right, and the living room is in the back of the room...

Behind the little white door:

We have running water from noon through the night,
but the sewage system still requires bucket flushing...

A book shelf to keep us studious:

Required reading, book reports, textbooks, workbooks...
... and the clock, our faithful challenger

Our Bedroom:

Oh the delight of crawling into my mosquito-netted cocoon each night,
with the cool evening breeze floating into my room... I'm on the top bunk

Dinner Time:

Here is our little stove-top, with a view that inspires culinary
excellence; and our dining table... no, it's never really this clean :)

And finally, our lovely view:

Tin roofs, palm trees, smoke and clouds... We now live in the slums of Pingki-an, a small village that most of the women we serve call home.
In the last picture, you can see our front door on the right, and the birthroom
window on the left... it doesn't get any better!

My New Address:
Deborah Kay Lohnes
#26 Pingki-an I
Tandang Sora, Pasong Tamo
Quezon City, PHILIPPINES 1107

Gastronomical Coincidence

2007-08-10T20:26:00.001+09:00

This entry marks the beginning of a new blog 'trend' for me. Instead of the lengthy, infrequent entries I have previously been inclined to writing, I have resolved to offer you the more day-to-day anecdotes of my life. Not only will it be more favorable to my sporadic schedule, but I am hopeful that it will also paint a more colorful picture of daily life here in Manila. With that said, I will inaugurate the occasion with this simple but delightful little incident…

It all started last Sunday, when our program director, Vicki, treated us to a movie in an enormous, A/C-ed movie theater. We arrived at the mall right in time to take our seats in the dark room and quickly got comfortable for the ‘Feature Presentation:’ Ratatouille. The story itself was somewhat of a paradox of emotion for me: the Parisian setting making me slightly homesick for a nice stroll through the Quartier Latin; the theme of a rat infestation making me home-sick in a very literal way for what could easily become a reality here in my new home …:)

But that’s beside the point. Remy, the hero of the movie, is a dreamy little rat with high hopes… his taste buds are refined, his sense of smell superior, and when opportunity knocks, he is quick to become a gourmet chef in a 5 star restaurant! For those of you who have seen it, you can understand how easily this little guy’s fairytale inspirations became my own. You see, Hannah and I have the great pleasure of both choosing menus and cooking meals each night. Instantly, we were both craving a good Ratatouille… but how to make the best without an oven?

A couple days later, I was browsing online for the best ‘stove-top Ratatouille’ recipe in the book (…or on the world-wide-web in this case). Nothing seemed quite right, but I hadn’t given up completely. As I opened yet another promising page, up popped a chat window – it was Rebecca, my very own sister, saying ‘hi.’ I explained to her my dilemma, and to my delight, she answered that she always makes Ratatouille on the stove. Perfect! I jotted down the recipe, tips included… the perfect interactive recipe, at last! But the fun didn’t end there. Becca, who had been looking for a stove-top recipe to make in her own ovenless home was equally inspired… and it all started last Sunday.

That night, Vicki and her husband, Scott, came back for dinner. The vegetables simmered, the rice boiled, and the fish browned into a most satisfying Ratatouille. But the best part of the story is this: On August 8^th, 2007, 2 sisters, separated by miles of vast ocean, were brought together around a gastronomical coincidence, a culinary delight. A simple, provincial dish, though delectable in its own essence, bridged the gaping expanse between us.

Ratatouille à la Lohnes

2 Large Zucchinis – thinly sliced
2 Large Eggplants - thinly sliced
2 Medium Red Peppers
2 Cans Stewed Tomatoes, drained
Fresh Basil, chopped
Fresh Oregano, chopped
Fresh Rosemary
3 Cloves Garlic
3 Medium Red Onions – sliced
1 TBsp. Butter
2 TBsp. Olive Oil
1 Can Artichoke Hearts
Salt & Pepper to taste

Slice all the vegetables into rounds. Place aside.
Place the eggplant in a strainer, salt it, and let it drain.
On medium heat, simmer the onions, garlic, fresh spices and butter together until soft and fragrant.
Layer the zucchini, eggplant, peppers and stewed tomatoes on top of the onion & spice mix.
Drizzle the olive oil on top of vegetables, adding a dash of salt & pepper.
On low heat, cover to let steam and simmer approx. 20-25 minutes (until all vegetables are tender), mixing every now and then to prevent burning or sticking.
Serve with rice and fish.

Bon Appetit!
I love you Becca Joy-of-my-life...

A Few of My Favorite Things...

2007-07-16T10:38:00.001+09:00

In my 23 years, I have come to consider being a Missionary Kid, or a missionary of any kind for that matter, as being synonymous with flexibility. That the bends and twists that are required of such a lifestyle extract any need for stability, any difficulty with adaptation, any unrealistic expectations. That being said, 'flexible' ought to be my middle name… But nope. My middle name is Kay, and I’m still learning.
My journey has not been without progress, though. I have learned to tame those expectations, to assume instability, and have patience in adapting. And now that I have been here one month, I thought it a good time to evaluate my learning curve and make an assessment of my familiarization with life in the Philippines.

Here are the things I had no trouble falling in love with:
The People: Filipinos are a beautiful people, warm, friendly, smiling, and so eager to practice their English with us, ‘Americanos.’ Poverty is evidenced in the most basic everyday needs, but their faces are radiant with joy despite their struggles. Their homes are simple, holding just a couple faded pictures and maybe an advertisement poster on the wall as decoration. They will undoubtedly offer a ‘merienda’ (snack) of crackers and coke to any passing guest, which you will gladly accept, even if it’s your fifth of the day! Children fill the streets, finding delight in playing with a stick and a tire or with a nearby kitten who has gotten lost again. Soon, they will put on their matching uniforms and make their way to school, piling onto triceys 5 or 6 at a time.

1) Gerlene (our Filipina Midwife) & Jhun (her husband & our "Midnight Rider" for births)
2) Cecille (another Filipina Midwife) & her family
3) Nelly & Reuben (our landlords)

The Transportation: Triceys and Jeepneys. Colorful. Noisy. Cheap. Exhilarating. You can stand at any corner of any street and flag down a passing Tricey (approx. 1-4 passengers comfortably). With its cloud of exhaust and rumbling motor, it will carry you to buy groceries for 40¢ or to the outdoor market for just 20¢. Or, you can take a Jeepney (approx. 1-15 passengers, comfortably) to the mall for 18¢. The driving can be unpredictable, and I have still just seen one traffic sign: it was a regular STOP sign with the word ‘full’ added above for emphasis.

The Food: Even though we cook each night for ourselves, we’ve gotten to taste some of the

most delicious Filipino specialties, which include Adobo (a savory meat & vegetable dish with rice), Pancit (a noodle dish), Buko Pie (a delicious coconut pie made with flaky crust and pieces of young, tender coconut meat), Mango Shakes (my all-time favorite), and an occasional pig's head, just to name a few.

Footwear: Wearing flip-flops every single day. Does it get any better?

Eating Outside: Our kitchen is outside to keep the heat from coming into the house. We have a lovely patio that is covered with a tin roof and it makes the most wonderful pitter-patter noises each time it rains. Our dining table is outside, too, with a globe lamp that hangs from the clothesline and a couple candles for ambience. I love it.

Some things that took some extra effort to get used to:

Unwelcome Creatures: They come in all shapes and sizes, from all directions, at all times, with all sorts of intentions. Mosquitoes and ants are a given; both are ravenous for our ever-replenishing, ever-fresh blood supply. Though there’s no real way to avoid their bite, my new night-time routine involves brushing my teeth, washing my face, putting on my PJs and lathering up with OFF. It seems to help. We have one, big, black, hideous rat that has taken up residence close-by and makes his ugly appearance every night while dinner is on the stove. A small mouse who likes to nibble away at any stray crumb, but makes sure to leave his evidence behind for us to clean up. Cockroaches (did you know that they can fly?), lizards, geckos, a gypsy moth… But what happened last week was the biggest surprise of all. I was taking a shower: place of cool refuge, of peace, of tranquility. I had a tune in my head and a lather in my hair, when out of the drain popped out a snake. Yes. It was a snake. Not a worm. A snake. Granted, it was small – maybe a bit longer than my own foot, but it had a diamond-shaped head, a slithering body, and was most unwelcome. While it curled up our shampoo rack, I finished showering. As soon as I was done, our brave hero, Sarah Ann, grabbed it in a bag and beat it with a wooden beam. I think a screen over the shower drain is in order.

The Fumes: One might think that covering my nose and mouth with a rag in public as a means of life-preservation would be rude. That it would communicate an ‘imperialistic white-skin’ attitude to my Filipino neighbours. It’s true that I had an aversion to the thought of it when I first arrived, wanting to adapt as quickly and as well as I could. But, after a single ride in a tricey (as fun as it is), with my nostrils perfectly angled to inhale every puff of exhaust in the hot, congested traffic, I realized there is really nothing else to do. Better yet, the locals do it, too. They even sell special ‘face cloths’ in the stores as a multi-purpose wipe-your-sweaty-face-protect-your-lungs sort of rag. It’s nice when adapting to the culture involves ones natural reflexes.

The CR: The CR is an abbreviation for Comfort Room, what we know as Rest Room, Bathroom, Water Closet, Toilet, etc. I’m a bit curious about the ‘comfort’ part, but still very grateful that there is running water – a luxury here. It is a ‘wet room.’ In other words, the toilet and showerhead are less than 2 feet apart, so that if you really wanted, you could actually sit on the toilet while taking your shower! The single shower knob shows the all-familiar ‘H’ for Hot, but of course, there is no hot water… we wouldn’t have it any other way, though; a cold shower is the highlight of any day.
The hardest part to embrace in this particular experience is our strict ban on throwing our toilet paper (any kind of toilet paper) into the toilet. It would clog it up. This makes a trashcan an indispensable addition to any CR, as well as the most unpleasant house chore.

Things I’m not quite used to… yet (as a precursor, I am working on shortening this list, but it would be dishonest not to include it):

The heat: It sometimes feels unbearable, making it hard to concentrate on studies or feel 100% in general.

Schedule: Finding time to do everything I need to do (prenatals, postapartums visits, unpredictable births, two 24 hr rotation/week at the clinic, a statistics course, microbiology, reading & writing 20 book reports, finishing course modules, home visits, and let’s not forget eating & sleeping…)
Cheese & Coffee: cheese prices are exorbitant; so is Decaf coffee. The only affordable cheese is similar to Kraft squares, which was one area I had already failed to adapt to while in America. But, they have U.H.T milk (my favorite), so I won't be too hard on them :)

Overall, I am still completely excited to be here. Each birth is a classroom where I am learning new skills, new approaches, new management. Each buntis (pregnant woman) provides not only a chance to practice the little bit of Tagalog I've learned, but also a great chance to pray, to encourage, to build relationships. I want to be flexible. I want to adapt. I want to understand, to relate, to encourage, to minister. I want flexible to grow into incarnational.

A Toast to Life!

2007-06-28T10:12:00.001+09:00

Meet Gagay. She is a beautiful 16 year old, strong, happy, adorable. I met her for the first time in her home, just a few streets behind the clinic. Her house is a simple one, built up on stilts, where a couple chickens can be found squawking their way around the narrow beams. She greets us with a warm smile and a bulging tummy, and we will soon learn that she is already 38 weeks pregnant!

I visited her twice in the following 2 weeks, checking heart tones, taking her blood pressure, ruling our danger signs... I couldn't wait to see the precious little being that was curled up so perfectly inside her womb. To see the little body that I could feel wiggling against my fingertips during exams...

It's 3:00 am Thursday morning, June 28, 2007. My cellphone rings and as my mind creeps out of its deep haze, I read the message that lights up my screen: "Gagay's in labor. Come quickly." A surge of adrenaline pumps through my body and I'm up in a flash. I jump into a pair of scrubs, grab my toothbrush, my birth bag, Gagay's folder and we're off into the night. We walk fast, squinting with each passing headlight, until finally we see the soft glow of a vacant tricycle that will hurry us past the cemetery and on to the clinic.

One hour later, after a succession of adamant contractions, baby Christine has taken her first breath! The miracle of life is once again celebrated, with all its wonder and in all its glory. The Creator looks down with pure pleasure on the perfection of His work, her tiny nose, two grasping hands, 10 perfect toes.

And so goes the story of my very first delivery... how did I ever afford to hold such a blessing. That my feeble hands would catch the wonder wrapped up in life itself! I don't know, but I'm so grateful.

As soon as Christine was finished with her first nursing, we boiled some water and I got to give her her first bath! The tub was just big enough for her, and once she was clean and dry, I started her newborn exam. I examined a head full of hair, dark little slanted eyes, the smooth bend of her ears, and her pink pursed lips. In a nut shell, Christine is perfect in every way.

For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother's womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.

Psalm 139:13-16

Giving Christine her first bath and checking her lungs...

Precious first moments together...

Gagay regaining her strength -

time for me to steal a moment with Christine

A perfect welcome to a new day, and a snap shot with my indispensable reinforcement, Shi

Click Here to See Christine

A Birth Day for my Birthday

2007-06-17T08:40:00.000+09:00

June 13, 1984, the day of my birth.

Twenty-three years later, and I get to be the one to bring a baby into the world! Well, not completely, but let me tell you how the day unraveled...

I woke up to a beautiful banner in our living room, "Happy Birthday Debs!" There were fresh flowers on the table with a bright orange fan wrapped in crepe paper! The girls had gotten up early that morning to find the flower vendors that line our street down the way... we live near an enormous cemetery, which makes it all quite convenient :) Somewhere, they found some sweet rolls, some perfectly ripe mangoes (my favorite), and a few eggs to scramble - all of which made for the best birthday breakfast!

*ring* Sarah Ann's familiar cell phone tune alerts us of a woman in labor! It was the first since our arrival, and we all knew that only 2 of us could go... Shi and Hannah were first on our prearranged list, but in an act of deep generosity, Shi offered me the best birthday present I could have ever imagined, and I went in her place, hoping to see a baby born on my very own birthday...

Judy is 16. Her labor was not very advanced, so we went about our daily routines, anxiously waiting another call. We went to a church to perform some prenatal exams, got a bite to eat for dinner, and came home exhausted. I went to bed wearing my scrubs and was awakened 30 min. later to go attend my very first birth!!!

Sarah Ann was leading the way. It was dark except for the dim lights of the few street vendors making their final sales for the day. She disappeared into the wall, and after a moment's confusion, I realized that she was slithering her way through a nearly invisible alley. It was just wide enough for my shoulders and seemed endlessly long. Finally, we reached the end. It opened up to a stack of tiny houses and as we staggered our way up a makeshift staircase, we found Judy, holding her protruding tummy and breathing deeply in the heat. Their television was almost loud enough to muffle the hum of a couple rickety fans, and as we looked around to get our bearing, my mind began reeling with how much I take for granted: running water, a mattress, food, a bathroom, a clean place to call home... It seemed nearly impossible that Judy would labor and give birth in this tiny place.

We took turns falling in and out of sleep the entire night through, making sure to monitor Judy's vitals and reassure her that her labor was progressing well. Morning came, but still no baby. Conditions were getting close to critical. Judy was exhausted. Her blood pressure rose to 150/110. Her waters were tinted with meconium. And the baby's heart rate dropped to 80 bpm. We had to transport.

After a lot of prayer and a lot of patience, we got news that Judy gave birth to a beautiful 6.2 lbs baby boy, Jason. I felt so sad that I wasn't able to see this little life take his first breath, but was deeply relieve and grateful to the Lord for His protection over them both.

We stopped by today to give them a bowl of fresh fruit and a baby blanket. The blanket seemed like a nice idea until we got to their home and remembered how overwhelmingly hot it is in this country! Nevertheless, the small gift was appreciated and brought smiles to everyone's lips.

And once again I am reminded of why I am here. To serve, to love, to give, to learn, to build, to live as well as I can for the glory of my God. If you've made it this far on this long entry, I would ask you to take just a minute to pray for Judy, Michael (the father) and baby Jason. They have a hard life ahead of them, but by God's grace they will know the incredible sweetness of knowing Him.

Firsts

2007-06-10T19:14:00.000+09:00

I find myself once again in a season of firsts. Every part of every day feels new. I know that it won't last forever, that this 'honeymoon stage,' as they call it, will soon become a comfortable routine, but that is a big part of its charm.
For the time being, I am relishing in the unknown, the mysterious, the unpredictable...

Yesterday was a big day in so many ways. We all woke up early with our hearts full of anticipation: we were about to perform our very first prenatal exams. Ate Gerlene, who has transformed her humble little house into a peaceful birth clinic, invites women to get examined every Saturday afternoon, beginning at 2 o'clock.

We spent our morning brainstorming creative ways to educate the expectant mothers about breastfeeding... and let me tell you that 4 midwives-in-training can get quite creative when asked to! Then, it was off to the market to pick up some fresh watermelon and bananas for an afternoon snack at the clinic. We arrived to find a dozen beautiful pregnant women quietly gathered in the smallest living room you've ever seen. Kids were running around playing with each other, dressing up, watching TV, and hanging upside-down on the single couch in the room.

I stepped into the bright blue birthing room, where there was just enough room for 2 beds, a cupboard, a scale and a few other medical supplies. My first mother was Andrea - a shy but lovely 25-year-old who was carrying her third baby. Her chart was handed to me, and I jumped right in. I was terrified. I knew I would be closely supervised, but did I really know what I was doing? I couldn't find the baby's heart beat, and even once I found it, I was so nervous that I had trouble counting it correctly. I was so frustrated with myself but grateful that the couple tears that fell down my cheeks afterwards were so easily mistaken for drops of sweat in the hot room.

A quick moment in prayer and I was off to do another exam. This one and the next were so much better - I would even venture to say they were enjoyable! Shirley, a 34-year-old mother of 2, is due July 12th and might very well be my first continuity (4 prenatals, birth, 1 post-partum). I'm so excited to be able to get to know these women, to visit them in their homes, to learn about their way of life, to share God's love with them and have the honor of bringing their little ones into the world! I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing.

God has been so faithful in my first week here in Manila. The transition has been incredibly smooth, and the friendships He began forging a year ago are growing ever so deep. There is so much for me to learn, so much for me to experience, so much for me to be thankful for. I feel that my prayers of gratitude to the Lord are endless. That His provision is so abundant and His timing so perfect! I know that harder times will come, and my prayer is that I will praise Him even then, remembering His faithfulness and trusting in His promises.

4 Little Kittens Have Lost Their Mittens

2007-06-08T09:22:00.000+09:00

We woke up today to the helpless little whine of kittens in our roof. The landlord came over promptly and stuffed them into a bag of shrubs, ready to dispose of them in a way I can only imagine...

But how could we let him? 4 little squirming fur-balls, with their eyes still closed, lost and orphaned. We are midwives, after all. Called to care. Called to save. Called to protect. A voice for the voiceless, right? We each picked one out of the bag, snuggled, cooed - and there was no turning back. In that moment, we became surrogate mothers to Manila, Amythest, Himlayan, and Mango.

What ensued afterwards is a tale that I must tell. We found a washing pan and lined it with a towel. We found an eye-dropper and filled it with warm milk. And we cuddled, snuggled, and cooed.

We've estimated the kittens to be almost 3 weeks old. After some thorough research, we learned that long-haired kittens keep their eyes closed longer than short-haired. That their eyes stay a deep blue until 3 weeks old, when they also start to walk. What a precious little welcoming gift in our new little house.

We fed and cuddled them all day. Distracted by their innocent little faces and soft fuzzy coats, we thought of them when we were at the market, when we were visiting neighbors, when we were in the shower. But we weren't sure they would survive.

Last night, the mama cat came by. Small and scrawny for having had a full litter, she meowed and cried in search of her little ones. There was no room for selfishness. We had to do what was best for everyone. We put the washbin on the roof.

We took shifts last night, feeding the kittens every 4 hours. By this morning, Amythest was the only one left. Had she rejected him? Would we get to keep this little one? We half hoped so. But at the 8:00 o'clock feeding, I heard a familiar whimper. I followed it to a flower bed on the other side of our fence. There she was, in all her beauty. Mama cat laying on her side with 3 little kittens nuzzling and nursing peacefully. We put Amythest back where he belonged with a feeling of utter joy and accomplishment!

... Now, we're just hoping the landlord doesn't find them in his flowerbed. But if he does, we know what to do!

Click here to see Manila learning to crawl.

Welcome to Manila!

2007-06-03T21:36:00.000+09:00

Our noses are pressed against the windows like small children and our eyes just don't seem big enough to take it all in. Our hearts are beating with anticipation as we finally spot the land below - a village peppered with rooftops of every color... Red. Blue. Orange. Yellow. Green.
It's still early morning when we land, and the clouds are still very low. The air is hot and sticky, and our senses are instantly overwhelmed with the newness of this foreign land. We sit in the back seat of a taxi unable to believe that we've actually arrived...

As soon as we got to Manila, Sarah Ann picked us up and took us to "the little orange house in the middle of the big city" - or home, for short. I loved it instantly. It's in the courtyard of an older couple's house, closed off to the main street by an equally bright orange gate. If you can crouch low enough to get through the gate door, you will find our dinning room: a wooden table under a tin roof. There, too, is our outdoor kitchen, with its all-inclusive fridge, sink, stove top, and cupboards. It even has a washing machine (#1 upgrade from my Chicago apartment)! Then, I can walk you into the main house. It's small but so loveable. Everything inside it is orange! It has wireless internet (#2 upgrade from my Chicago apt.), A/C (#3 upgrade), and for now, just one mouse (#4 upgrade)!

The next day, we were up at dawn to catch a 3 hour bus to the port, where we would ride a bamboo motor boat to White Beach, in Puerto Galera. The ride was smooth, relaxing and absolutely breathtaking. The water was a color blue you could only dream of, and the entire bay was surrounded by mountains. The boat took us right onto the sand, where we had a quick lunch and continued up to Vicki's house (the director of the school). We will be here until Wednesday for orientation.
This island is beautiful. The trees are lush and overgrown. The mangoes are heavy on each branch and the crickets seem to sing all night long. But the best part by far so far is to be with friends again - to know that this is exactly where God wants us. To share the excitement with them and to anticipate the next 9 months of learning together.

I can't believe I'm here.