Let me start by saying, I am overly tired and hungry, and when I’m emotional, those things make me even more emotional. And maybe a little irrational.
My family is gone for the weekend. They left Friday afternoon and I am not going to lie, it has been glorious. I have been able to come and go as I please for over 48 hours. I have lived on coffee, and chips and salsa. I have lost four pounds. (Four lbs over the last week, not just these 48 hours)
I spent some quality time with my birds.
And then today I went to church. I was just in a really great mood. Sunny. Coffee. Sunday. Does it get any better?
But after church, still in my dress, I had to wrestle Louise. Louise is my 150 lb piglet. I guess maybe at 150 lbs she’s no longer a piglet? Well anyway, she and Sally got in the chicken coop and devoured the feed. They did not want to leave. I had to sit on her and pull her ears and convince her that indeed, she did want to leave.
I collected a few eggs and then headed to a baby shower. My boots still covered jn dust.
When I returned home I had a baby goat. Well, I didn’t, but my goat did!
Miranda (mama) delivered her with three cows, two pigs, another goat, and five geese all around! I know a few people who had similar delivery room circuses like that, but I liked my doctor, nurse, and husband.
I flew the rest of the way up the driveway, I think I had my dress off before I hit the house, changed into my farm clothes and out to pasture I went.
Baby and mama are there, and since I was there, the cows, piglets, and geese wanna know what’s up. They follow. Baby is cleaned up, afterbirth is nearly out, but I need to move baby.
I take the baby to a safe pen, trying to coax Mama who clearly does not want to leave the afterbirth.
Finally I get Mama and baby (a girl!) to a safe place and head back out to pasture to get the afterbirth.
Baby Hazel jumped around, sat in my lap, slept, tried a time or two to nurse, but unsuccessfully, and here is where my emotional, irrational self comes in.
I am preparing for a dead baby goat in the morning.
The not eating is not a good sign.
I have milked Mama. I have tried to latch baby on. And now I wonder if I did too much. If I got in the way and was more hinderance than help. She is just the cutest thing, you guys.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings. I am steeling myself. My heart. I don’t expect her to live through the night.
All I can think is that I have failed this baby. Failed her mama, Miranda. Failed the folks who gave Miranda to us. And failed my children. I hope they get to meet Hazel before she passes.
It would have been nice for Josh to be here for all of this, but I am sure it would have caused more marital strife than anything. I always expect him to know all the answers and how to do all the things.
It was best to do today alone. But it was hard and tiring and emotionally overwhelming.
My heart loves these animals more than it should, and honestly, if baby Hazel doesn’t make it, maybe my animals need to move on to a farm Mama who can do better by them.