She hasn't seen the 2-week-old since his delivery, a punishing 24-hour ordeal. For this brief moment, Montiel pauses to admire the fruits of her own 14 years of labor.

"Oh, he's getting some cheeks," she says.

Montiel runs Centro de Salud Familia, a women's clinic adjacent to Salt Lake Regional Hospital that caters to indigent Latino families, many of whom are here illegally. The exam rooms of the Avenues clinic are packed with expectant or new mothers and their husbands.

Victor Jr. is Montiel's 1,000th baby. It's an auspicious beginning, one that Salt Lake Regional staff celebrated with a $1,000 educational savings bond given to his parents, Gabriela and Victor Gomez Sr., of West Valley City.

Even as Victor was being born, millions of demonstrators nationwide were preparing to take to the streets to protest federal proposals for curbing illegal immigration. Immigrants and their undocumented children are "here, and they're here to stay," said Montiel.

"We can pretend otherwise, but we know we have better outcomes if we help people care for themselves," she said. "The proof is in the pudding."

For Victor Jr.'s mom and dad, his arrival is nothing short of a miracle. The Gomezes battled infertility for 11 years before turning to Montiel for help.

Gabriela credits Montiel for giving her hope. Unlike 90 percent of Montiel's 500 patients, the Gomezes have health insurance, and they are legal residents.

But they work hard for very little money; Gabriela manages a Carl's Jr. and her husband works at the city dump. For Gabriela, expensive fertility treatments - even prenatal care - were luxury items, too often sacrificed to pay the rent or buy groceries.

Montiel charges her patients based on what they can afford; on average, about half the going rate of surrounding hospitals.

Her thriving practice proves that discounted medicine isn't necessarily second-rate medicine. She has never had a bad birth outcome, as defined by a death or disability.

Another mark of success: she hires her own doctors. It usually works the other way around.

But it's the culturally sensitive care that keeps patients happy and that Gabriela Gomez credits for her successful pregnancy and delivery. She speaks English fluently, but she said it helps to be able to describe intimate reproductive problems in her native tongue.

Being able to communicate directly with their doctor gives patients more of a sense of control, said Carol Lindsay, director of women's services at Salt Lake Regional.

In German, the word "midwife" literally means "with woman," and "that's Sue," said Lindsay. "She's white, but thinks she's Hispanic."

Culturally sensitive care involves more than just speaking Spanish, said Montiel, citing research that blames poor Latino health care outcomes on their noncompliant behavior.

"If they miss an appointment, it's because they're working. And if they lie about it, which they often do, it's because in the Hispanic culture, it's better to fib then offend someone," said Montiel. "And if a patient is late, it's probably because she was making a platter of food. She's two weeks post-partum and she's making us lunch."

A native Utahn, Montiel launched Centro de Salud Familia with her husband, Mexican-born Uzi Montiel. The two met at a friend's wedding.

"We both had a dream of setting up a clinic in Mexico, but joked, 'Why do that when half of Mexico is moving to West Valley City?' " recalls Montiel.

Montiel, her husband, who runs the business side of the clinic, and their four children make sacrifices to keep the clinic afloat. She pays herself $15 an hour, about half the going rate for someone with her years of experience.

"We've always made payroll and managed to stay current on our bills. It helps that I charge what people can afford. My collections rate is about 90 percent," said Montiel.

There are other hazards to Montiel's work. If one of the more punitive immigrant reform proposals before Congress passes, she could be slapped with a felony for treating immigrants in the country illegally.

But Montiel dismisses the legislation with a wave of the hand. "Am I supposed to turn women away?" she says, rhetorically.

That's "the essence of Sue," remarks Lindsay. "She wants to make all the world right and fair and to stop people from gouging others. Then everyone would have enough."

- kstewart@sltrib.com