Day 2
For the Mother’s
The fountain at Parque Central was overflowing with joy — and on Mother’s Day, it couldn’t have been more fitting. While many nations don’t always share the same holidays, the Faith in Practice team was incredibly lucky to witness firsthand how this beautiful Latin nation pours its whole heart into honoring its mothers, including the Mother of Jesus herself. The city streets buzzed with life as families wound their way across cobblestone paths, arms wrapped around mom. We watched mothers and daughters strolling hand in hand through the park, and sons tenderly caring for the women who raised them. The scene felt like the visual definition of family, of love.
With two operating rooms dedicated entirely to women’s health, it felt only fitting that today’s storytelling would be centered on that same cherished group. Many of the women we saw during triage shared similar concerns — and a similar pain that only a mother’s body truly knows.
Mayra, was the clinic nurse dedicated to Dr. Davis and Dr. Miller’s team, and throughout the course of the day she helped in the pre-op exams. The workload of the day was demanding, to ensure the patients with the highest needs received care they needed while the 906 team was in town. Mayra’s working style was efficient yet serious and firm. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw her today, her steps were lighter. It was as though after the schedule was made and the plans were clear ,I got to see a different side of her. In place of yesterday’s orderly disposition, with each passing today Mayra greeted me with an extended “Holaaaaaaaaa”. I was lucky enough to catch her for a hug and a moment of thanks. What a dedicated and hard worker.
One of the first patients we met in the triage process was a woman in her mid-60s — Romelia, a mother of five and a grandmother many times over. She radiated quiet dignity. Her voice was low and steady, her trust in us complete. She would repeat small phrases of gratitude, acknowledge our kindness, and — remarkably — she remembered my name when she arrived for the first surgery of the week in OR Room 4. Her tanned skin, long eyelashes, and long, slow blinks told us everything: she was at peace. She trusted this team entirely, and that trust was not something any of us took lightly.
Romelia lives with something far too many women who have carried and raised children know all too well — a prolapse of her reproductive organs that turns even the simplest acts, like walking or sitting, into a source of daily pain. Childbirth and motherhood are profound gifts, but they are also unforgiving on a woman’s body, and Romelia had given hers completely.
As the morning unfolded, the team found its rhythm with the kind of quiet confidence. Cheryl, a nurse from College Station, Texas; Tim, an anesthesiologist from Atlanta; and Kacee, a surgical tech from Fort Worth, readied the room and welcomed Romelia in with warmth. Her surgery went exactly as planned thanks to the talented team.
This evening, when I went to visit the post-op area, Romelia was the first person I saw quietly resting in the bed, surrounding her was about ten other women also in recovery. In that quiet, tender space, her eyes lit up as I reached for her hand. She kept repeating how grateful she was for Faith in Practice, her voice low but full and sincere. I told her it was me that should be saying thank you for the opportunity to be here with her and how I admired her strength. In asking if she needed any help to be more comfortable, she shared that she didn’t need anything and affirmed again how much this surgery meant to her. She was adamant that I couldn’t understand. In so, she shared a story that made the message a little more clear. She shared that she walks her grandchildren to school. Or rather, she used to — because this condition has often taken that experience from her due to the pain. I began to understand, the surgery meant not only physical healing, but new opportunities and activities to connect with her loved ones. Her peaceful demeanor reiterated what this care meant for her and how she was looking forward to knowing that this would no longer hold her back.
And so, following a day when so much of the world was celebrating motherhood in its many forms, I am deeply honored that we could be here for a woman like Romelia. To know that we played even a small part in restoring her days — in giving her back those sweet, unhurried walks to school with her grandchildren — is all the affirmation we could ever need that we are exactly where we are supposed to be. This surgery will undoubtedly change her life. And for a woman who has given so selflessly and so completely, it fills my heart to know she can now move through her days with less pain, more peace, and all the freedom she deserves.
This evening it was important to let Romelia rest, but I’ll share a post-op photo soon so you can catch a glimpse of her smile. Her eyes somehow manage to twinkle through the screen.
Michelle Montes Team Blogger and Daniel Montes Photographer
