Typhoon Updates

The past few weeks have been surreal, stressful, and entirely unexpected in every way. We received notice three weeks ago that a storm could be heading towards Guam, and while we were at the beginning of rainy season, it was still unseasonably early for a major typhoon to be ripping through our part of the Pacific. There was a lot of uncertainty around the storm’s path initially; it could hit us directly or it could go around us. We could experience 150mph wind and 2 feet of rain; in other words, we could be experiencing the devastation of Mawar, the last major storm that completely wiped-out power and water for weeks. If you live with anxiety, you know the realm of “what-if” is treacherous territory, especially when so much is out of your control.

 While I spent 25 years on the East Coast and am familiar with hurricane season, preparing for a major storm in Guam is a more daunting endeavor. We don’t have the benefit of neighboring states that can drive in with extra line crews in a matter of hours. We don’t have the ability to drive to friends and family to wait it out somewhere safer. If it was just Tom and I, we felt relatively confident roughing it out in whatever conditions we were left with. However, I would be 38 weeks pregnant by the time the storm ended, and I was so worried about what we’d do with a newborn during the aftermath of recovery, or, even worse, the height of a typhoon.

The Naval Hospital was acting as a shelter for women close to their due dates, so I had permission to stay there for the duration of the storm in case I went into labor. Tom was also going to be on call at the hospital for any emergencies that came in. Before leaving the house, we finished setting up our nursery corner for our baby girl and hoped the storm shutters would do their job and that the house wouldn’t flood. We packed a bag of baby supplies and postpartum supplies in case I delivered early; the drop in pressure from the storm allegedly sends women into labor. For all intents and purposes, it looked like we were going camping. We had an air mattress and bags of non-perishable food and a battery powered fan and power banks. We were ready for the worst-case scenarios and hopeful the storm could still turn and miss us.

We arrived Monday morning, and while it didn’t feel like business as usual, it still didn’t feel like a major storm was upon us. The doors weren’t shuttered closed yet, and while it was rainy and the wind was picking up, it wasn’t a catastrophe yet. That would be the following day. In a lot of ways, the days would feel like summer camp. We ate our meals together in the galley and played board games to pass the time when people weren’t working. We walked the halls, we looked for windows to try and peek outside, we ate snacks. I distributed banana-nut and chocolate chip muffins I made over the weekend to brighten people’s spirits. I couldn’t be more grateful for the kindness of Tom’s coworkers who made four days go by far more quickly with their companionship, conversations, and Catan games.

The doors got their typhoon shutters on Tuesday, and our world became darker. The wind howled for a full day, and it was especially noticeable in the stairwells. There was constant whistling, and the Windy app (which quickly became our best friend) showed 60mph winds battering the island. The typhoon, as it did over the neighboring island of Chuuk, stalled and slowed and crawled its way over Guam. Tuesday bled into Wednesday with the massive swirling storm inching along at 3mph. I joked that even in my third trimester I was able to move faster than the storm. Social media posts told us that power had been out across the island since Monday. Water was out in many villages as well. And still the wind howled. Our neighbors in Saipan to the north got the worst-case scenario that we had feared. They got the 100+mph winds and devastating floods. The storm just wouldn’t leave. I read a book. I worked on my next trivia night for a local brewery. I almost won at Settlers of Catan. I lost at Cribbage. I got antsy. I worried.

Not being able to check on the house left my mind swirling with “what-ifs.” I’m already nervous to give birth. There’re so many unknowns when it comes to labor, delivery, and postpartum recovery, especially as a first-time mom thousands of miles away from home. I’ve been trying to control what I can. I had washed all of the swaddles and baby clothes and bedding and organized all of the baby items for easy access. I had meal-prepped two weeks’ worth of breakfasts to make our transition home easier. I had felt nearly ready for her to arrive. Now, it seemed, the contents of my freezer and fridge would be going straight into the trash. The neatly organized baby items could be ruined by water. Our house could be without water and power for weeks while the island simmers at a constant and humid 85+ degrees.

The conditions improved enough on Wednesday evening for people to start venturing out before it got dark. The roads were sandy from the flooding and there was enough debris from the trees that night driving wasn’t advisable. Tom drove home alone to check for damage, and I waited with bated breath to hear what conditions we’d be returning to. His pictures and video call gave me immense relief. While there were branches in the yard, none had damaged the house. The storm shutters did their job, and no water made it into the house. The walls, floors, and baseboards were all dry. The skylights didn’t crack to become makeshift waterfalls (we saw video footage of this happening to other families after Mawar). And, while the contents of the refrigerator were long beyond salvaging, a portion of the freezer remained frozen and was able to be saved. There was no power or water, but the house being intact was a massive relief.

On Friday there was the smallest trickle of water in our taps; it wasn’t enough to even wash our hands. Almost every traffic light on the way home was out, making even short drives a much more cautious experience. Bamboo, branches, and leaves had been blown aside, trees had been torn up, and the landscape was completely altered. The sand and debris had been cleared from the major roads and work had resumed for many businesses with working generators or restored power. I spent the day at a coffee shop and grocery store for the air conditioning, and we spent another night sleeping in Tom’s office. I had returned to our house for a couple of hours, but even the coolest room was too stagnant and uncomfortable to stay in for long periods, especially in the dark and without running water.

 At 38 weeks 3 days pregnant, I was 1cm dilated but felt so far from ready to deliver our first child. My time in Guam had taught me flexibility, compromise, and resiliency, but I didn’t want to be practicing those skills right before such a big moment. I wanted to go back to nesting and being able to sleep in my own bed and shower, brush my teeth, wash my dishes, and wash my clothes. I was desperate for things to feel and be normal. I wanted my delivery to be perfect, for the world I brought my daughter into to be comfortable and safe. I was so immensely grateful that our house wasn’t damaged, that we had somewhere comfortable and safe to stay during the storm, and that we had air conditioning, hot meals, and running water during the storm. I was grateful, nervous, and uncomfortable. More than anything, I wanted a clear recovery timeline.

The next day gave me some much-needed hope. Naval Base Guam was hosting a cooling shelter in their gym and would have representatives from the various military-associated organizations and offices that could offer aid to families impacted by the storm. The line stretched out the door, but volunteers were quick to offer help. They distributed water bottles, brought around paperwork and pens, and offered to hold your place in line if you needed to step inside. Once inside, the USO had a table full of snacks and a reminder that their centers were back up and running if we needed a place to cool off. There were stations set up to help with grant funding, legal aid, and housing, and the volunteers did an incredible job of helping the crowds of people find the resources they needed as efficiently as they could. Honestly, writing this has me crying again because of how kind and supportive the entire process was. Tom and I were advised to split up to get through the lines faster. He went to find us temporary housing while I turned in our grant request to the Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society. The volunteer team told us to return the next day for a $400 check to assist with losses from the storm. Almost as soon as I finished, Tom had great news for me: we had approval for an on-base hotel while the utilities were being restored.

We drove to the hotel check-in desk and were given a key to the same hotel we stayed in for over a month when we first moved to Guam. We would have a living area, small kitchen, and bedroom, giving us the peace of mind that our daughter would have somewhere comfortable and safe if she came before my due date. The stores on base had reopened, and there were food trucks selling sweet treats. My spirits were lifted, and driving to the hotel felt a bit like coming home.

The following day we attended church at the base’s chapel because its power had been restored, and we headed back to the gym to pick up our check. It took close to two hours, but the volunteers did a fantastic job of making the process as comfortable as possible. There were cots and bleachers set out in the gym and volunteers passed out snacks and water.

When we checked on the house again, we got to work filling up our trash can before the garbage truck came. We filled 5 trash bags as we emptied our fridge and freezer, and it was tough to see so much go to waste, especially with how hard it can be to find certain food items in Guam. We had a full pantry of canned goods, but we’d be starting from scratch when it came to anything fresh.

We were finally able to return to our house two days ago after 12 days split between the hospital and hotel. I spent the weekend shopping for replacement groceries and restarting my meal preparations. It feels so good to be home and sleeping in my own bed again.

Our baby girl’s due date is the 28th, but I’m still only at 1cm of dilation and not feeling any closer to delivering. I think our baby girl knew the world and I both needed a little more time to prepare for her. If she doesn’t come on Tuesday, we have an induction scheduled as a backup that week. I’m so eager to meet her, and I can’t believe she’ll be here any day. Our lives are about to change forever in the best possible way.

We appreciate everyone who’s kept us in their thoughts and prayers and who has reached out during these crazy weeks. To say that I’m grateful for all the support we’ve received is an understatement. There is potential for another storm next week, but it’s still too early to tell what it will look like and where it will turn. Optimistically, it doesn't look as bleak as the last storm's forecast. We have the perfect set of conditions for storms for the next two months, so we’ll continue to prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and take it one day at a time.