I met Doña Miriam last week. As I approached her small house (built 100 years ago) I stole a glance at the lush rolling hills covered in a canopy of glistening wet trees. Doña Miriam stands at just under 5 feet and celebrated her 90th birthday this year. As the last remaining local midwife here in the central mountain range outside Turrialba I knew I was in for a story or two. However, as I leaned in to kiss her cheek and she reached for my hands with her powerful grip, I realized I had no idea what I was in store for. Her energy was palpable. Doña Miriam caught her first baby when she was 14 years old, under the close tutelage of her mother. She was married at 15 years old at which time she gave birth to her first baby. She proceeded to have 18 more of her own, including two sets of twins (which she jokingly refers to as her "two-for-ones"). With only a working knowledge of the technical spanish vocab I was at a disadvantage and missed a few details of her best stories! However, with the loss of one sense, another is acutely aware. Watching her mannerisms and facial expressions while she spoke offered me a nice illustration of what she may look like at a birth. And if I had been pregnant at that time I would have shackled myself to her small clinic bed in the rear of her home to insist that she be the one of the first my baby would encounter on their welcome day. My daily life includes being a part of the occasional hustle here in San Jose and my trip to Tres Equis with Rebecca was a refreshing reminder of the many faces of birth and maternal healthcare in rural areas. It was also a reminder of the many degrees of separation between managed hospital birth and the midwifery model of care. As a student nurse-midwife every experience is another layer of understanding, another mountain of questions, and a moment of inspiration.