What I've Been Hoping For

Phil left at 5am to attend a conference on compost making. I had been planning to go up until yesterday, when I realized that compost is really more Phil's passion than mine (though it may sound strange, he LOVES compost!). So off he went. Overall, he found it interesting, though one member of the audience interjected himself too much and made Phil "want to bang my head against the wall."

When I went to do chores, I was thrilled to see Zara in labor. We've been watching her all week, wondering each day (and every evening) if her tail was actually out, if her backside was swollen. And we couldn't quite tell.

Well, in this case, there was no doubt. She was ready to give birth. Our last lambing experience this year. I tried not to watch; I had a feeling it wouldn't be long.

After we ate, Abigail said, "Can I watch? I've never seen anything give birth." So I perched her outside the pen, with the warning that it could be some time before anything happened.

Two minutes later she said, "I think she just gave birth. I saw something come out of her."

Sure enough, there was a little black lamb (photo taken some time after birth).



I was determined to do everything in my power to save this lamb. So I gave it a vitamin boost in the mouth, then toweled it off. Zara was purposefully licking off the lamb, but the chickens were pestering her, and so I moved her and the ewe lamb into the jug. The ewe lamb tried several times to get up, and after a few attempts, I tried to prop the girl up to the teat, but Zara would have none of it, preferring to lick her shivering baby off some more.

Frustrated, I went to get the one precious jar with a quarter cup of colostrum and goat milk. This week I've seen how quickly the energy reserves vanish, and I wanted that ewe.

I returned half a minute later to find Zara pushing out a second lamb. (Considering none of the three ewes ever had twins before, I suppose we're doing something right to have twins from all three!) This little ram lamb came out, and I took over his immediate care, while Zara helped the ewe. (This photo, too, taken sometime after birth. Note that he has a white patch on his forehead, making the two easy to tell apart.)



That little ram lamb was something else. As soon as I got his mouth and nose cleared out, he tried to stand up. I mean, within a minute or two. I haven't seen that level of vigor before, and I was pleased. He also weighed 6lb, 9oz, and he felt hefty. His older sister was only 5lb, 10oz. I gave her all the colostrum, figuring she was both smaller and (sad to say) more valuable to me, as an ewe.

So followed a happy couple of hours, where I played midwife to healthy babies. I helped them both find the teat; I helped them both dry off; I fed the Mom when she seemed ready. I petted and cuddled Blessing (the ewe) and Bouncy (the ram). Perhaps because I was the first to really touch him after birth, Bouncy loved me from the beginning. Perhaps because I am a lactating mother myself, he tried to bond with me. I'm guessing that will have bad RAMifications someday, since a six pound baby is different than a 150 pound ram-of-steel, but for the moment, I enjoyed it.

And it gave me perspective on the five lambs we've lost. (To review: 1) The deformed boy born during a blizzard. 2) The stillborn lamb born during lengthy labor, that I had to pull. 3) The ewe that was born without the strength to raise her head. Maybe now, with another week's experience, I could have saved that one (or maybe in a few years I will have the knowledge). I learned from that death. 4) The stillborn lamb that never broke out of its sac. 5) The ewe that lived 24 hours, the miracle baby, whose mother should have been culled years ago.) Some of them were, perhaps, my fault. But it's a steep learning curve, trying to keep babies alive. It helped, too, to clarify what I expect my management practices to be for these sheep. They haven't been bred to drop a couple lambs in the field and care for them entirely by themselves. For me to expect that is a bit unkind. But to spend a couple of hours a couple times a year, so I can have a healthy flock grazing my orchard floor: that's not a bad or wrong decision.

Having (on the sixth try) a fully healthy birth gave me such a relief. And such a joy, to have such a birth from my favorite ewe.

The joy of that good birth stayed with me all day. Since today was, biodynamically-speaking, a flower day, I planted flower seeds in spots for decoration. I had large quantities of herb seeds (like 600 Valerian seeds). I think I read somewhere that, in order to get good coverage with large quanitites, you should mix them with sand. I have no sand, so I used well-tailings, and flung the combination around me. We'll see how that method works. I didn't even plow or rake or anything in advance. Had I waited until I got to that, I might never have sown seeds. Broccoli, surprisingly, also should go in the ground on flower days (I suppose the florets are rather floral), so I planted some broccoli, too. I've never grown broccoli before, and hope it comes up.

Phil asked if I was less grumpy today. Apparently, I've been more than a little grumpy for the last week or so (culminating yesterday, when I was so grumpy I could hardly remember another time I felt so down). I think the death of the lambs was really bothering me. To have living lambs is a great joy.



Week-old Benny looks huge to me by comparison!