A Microcosm of Life
I spent most of today walking out to the barn every 2 hours to see that Emmi was still not in labor, but was standing around rubbing her sides on the walls of the barn for a good scratch. Finally at 2 PM when I went outside, her water bag was hanging from her, but it hadn't broken yet and she wasn't really pushing either. More standing around. After about half an hour of this she started pushing intermittently.
But after half an hour of pushing with no real progress, I decided to intervene and used a sanitized scissors to puncture her water bag. Then I put on an OB glove (thin plastic, goes to the shoulder) and a ton of Super-lube (antiseptic lube for sheep) and checked inside her. There was a lamb right there and I helped him be born. Emmi pushed as I pulled (always toward the ewe's heels) and the lamb came out quite easily. Unfortunately he was dead and there was no reviving him.
It was a little white ram lamb and while he didn't look that small, when I weighed him, he was just over 3 pounds. So that is pretty small even for a Finn lamb. (My smallest survivor, Sparky, was 3 1/2 pounds and he needed a lot of help for a long time. Emmi was very good about licking the dead lamb and trying to stimulate him as I tried to get him going. I left him in the jug (pen) with her for a while just because I didn't want to freak her out by taking her lamb.
My vet's machine said he was away for the day, but I called my long time sheep mentor, Sandy, and she agreed that I should go in and get any other lambs out now, just in case they were still alive. I was not overly optimistic. (It always feels good to have someone agree with your plan of action when things aren't going so well.) I got out a white ewe lamb that was weak and a white ram lamb (breach presentation) that was even weaker. Both have beautiful pigment around their eyes like eyeliner. There is a 50% chance they carry for grey and a 50% chance they carry for black.
I helped Emmi get them dried off - tongue on her part, towel and hairdryer on mine. Then I snipped and dipped their umbilical cords in strong iodine. I weighed them -- ewe: 4 lbs 10 oz; ram: 4 lbs 1 oz -- I think. It is written down out in the barn. I put on their little coats and and set them under the heat lamps. Fortunately it was a nice and sunny day so the barn was fairly warm anyway.
The little ewe lamb tried to stand and tried to nurse, but I wasn't sure now much milk she was really getting. And the little ram lamb was too weak to stand, let alone nurse. So I milked colostrum out of Emmi, thinned it with a tiny bit of warmed milk replacer as straight colostrum is think and hard to get through the tube, and tube fed both lambs. (Thank you Randy Gottfredson for teaching me that. It has saved several lambs.) I got Emmi a bucket of warm molasses water and some hay. She was glad to have a snack at that point.
With the lambs fed and under their heat lamp, I had a couple of hours so that I could go dig a grave for the little dead lamb and run back to the house to feed the inside dogs. At one point I had to come indoors to get some tape to seal up the little box that I found to bury the lamb. The radio in the house was playing Natalie Merchant's "These Are the Days".
these are days you'll remember...
...to be part of the miracles you see in every hour
you'll know it's true, that you are blessed and lucky...
The poignancy was overwhelming.
I have a lot of friends who say they could never do what I do. But as in all things, you just do the best that you can and the rest is up to God. When I first got my sheep, my mentor, Sandy DeMaster, told me that sheep were going to teach me a lot of things. Nothing has ever been more true. (And no one asks you which lessons you think you might like to learn.) Life on the farm is just like life anywhere. It is just that the miracles of birth, the sadness of death and the life in between are much more "in your face" on a daily basis.
I have fed the lambs 3 times now and they are still alive. I will feed them about every 2 hours all night. The little girl is still trying to stand and I helped her onto Emmi's teat a bit, but then still fed her just to be safe. When I went out to the barn at 9:00 PM she had walked across the jug on her little "Bambi legs" and gotten tangled up in another corner. But fortunately she wasn't too chilled. So I fed her and put her back under the heat lamp. The little boy does fight a bit when I try to feed him but that is about all. He can lift up his head and flop around a bit. There are no attempts at standing yet. But as long as he is still alive, he can get better. Their fight to survive is incredible.
Upper left: ewe lamb looking spunky. Lower right: little guy still a bit floppy.
But after half an hour of pushing with no real progress, I decided to intervene and used a sanitized scissors to puncture her water bag. Then I put on an OB glove (thin plastic, goes to the shoulder) and a ton of Super-lube (antiseptic lube for sheep) and checked inside her. There was a lamb right there and I helped him be born. Emmi pushed as I pulled (always toward the ewe's heels) and the lamb came out quite easily. Unfortunately he was dead and there was no reviving him.
It was a little white ram lamb and while he didn't look that small, when I weighed him, he was just over 3 pounds. So that is pretty small even for a Finn lamb. (My smallest survivor, Sparky, was 3 1/2 pounds and he needed a lot of help for a long time. Emmi was very good about licking the dead lamb and trying to stimulate him as I tried to get him going. I left him in the jug (pen) with her for a while just because I didn't want to freak her out by taking her lamb.
My vet's machine said he was away for the day, but I called my long time sheep mentor, Sandy, and she agreed that I should go in and get any other lambs out now, just in case they were still alive. I was not overly optimistic. (It always feels good to have someone agree with your plan of action when things aren't going so well.) I got out a white ewe lamb that was weak and a white ram lamb (breach presentation) that was even weaker. Both have beautiful pigment around their eyes like eyeliner. There is a 50% chance they carry for grey and a 50% chance they carry for black.
I helped Emmi get them dried off - tongue on her part, towel and hairdryer on mine. Then I snipped and dipped their umbilical cords in strong iodine. I weighed them -- ewe: 4 lbs 10 oz; ram: 4 lbs 1 oz -- I think. It is written down out in the barn. I put on their little coats and and set them under the heat lamps. Fortunately it was a nice and sunny day so the barn was fairly warm anyway.
The little ewe lamb tried to stand and tried to nurse, but I wasn't sure now much milk she was really getting. And the little ram lamb was too weak to stand, let alone nurse. So I milked colostrum out of Emmi, thinned it with a tiny bit of warmed milk replacer as straight colostrum is think and hard to get through the tube, and tube fed both lambs. (Thank you Randy Gottfredson for teaching me that. It has saved several lambs.) I got Emmi a bucket of warm molasses water and some hay. She was glad to have a snack at that point.
With the lambs fed and under their heat lamp, I had a couple of hours so that I could go dig a grave for the little dead lamb and run back to the house to feed the inside dogs. At one point I had to come indoors to get some tape to seal up the little box that I found to bury the lamb. The radio in the house was playing Natalie Merchant's "These Are the Days".
these are days you'll remember...
...to be part of the miracles you see in every hour
you'll know it's true, that you are blessed and lucky...
The poignancy was overwhelming.
I have a lot of friends who say they could never do what I do. But as in all things, you just do the best that you can and the rest is up to God. When I first got my sheep, my mentor, Sandy DeMaster, told me that sheep were going to teach me a lot of things. Nothing has ever been more true. (And no one asks you which lessons you think you might like to learn.) Life on the farm is just like life anywhere. It is just that the miracles of birth, the sadness of death and the life in between are much more "in your face" on a daily basis.
I have fed the lambs 3 times now and they are still alive. I will feed them about every 2 hours all night. The little girl is still trying to stand and I helped her onto Emmi's teat a bit, but then still fed her just to be safe. When I went out to the barn at 9:00 PM she had walked across the jug on her little "Bambi legs" and gotten tangled up in another corner. But fortunately she wasn't too chilled. So I fed her and put her back under the heat lamp. The little boy does fight a bit when I try to feed him but that is about all. He can lift up his head and flop around a bit. There are no attempts at standing yet. But as long as he is still alive, he can get better. Their fight to survive is incredible.
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