Tag Archives: midwifery

Scarlett, Clover and Peter Pan arrive

by . Posted on
26 Nov

Those alpacas were holding out for something, we didn’t know what!  But on the Sunday that my parents and Ged’s parents were here for lunch (6.11.11) in the afternoon I had a little whisper of intuition an took the car down the river flat to see what I could see.

There was Tara with a live baby hanging out of her.  It was the weirdest sight – all neck and spindly forelegs and two wall eyes.  She was humming piteously while Tara hummed back at her so they were obviously talking their way through the business of birth.  Tara was either resting before the next wave of pushing or stuck because she wasn’t doing anything.  I raced back to tell the others and then back to check on our big girl.  After a few minutes it seemed that the baby must be stuck as its colour was fading somewhat.  Time for midwife Sophie to pull and so I did.  I think the chest area was stuck because it was hard work and only once I started pulling did Tara start pushing again.  It wasn’t long before we had a big baby girl on the ground.  We called her Scarlett because she came out of Tara and she had a big birth splash of blood on her til it rained that night.

It was wonderful to sit on the grass on what was a very hot day and watch those first tentative moments of life.  It is a miracle every time.  And one this time that I shared with my Mother who wasn’t here when I birthed her little grandson miracle here at Avalon.

The Alpacas are very curious and welcoming of each newcomer to the herd and lick and look after the baby while the Mama eats and rests and recovers her strength.  Each ‘packer’ comes over to say hi and see what has happened and make contact with the new bub while it recovers from the shock of birth and slowly finds its feet (living on a farm you soon learn where all these old expressions we take for granted come from!)

Scarlett is not beautiful like her namesake but I am sure she will grow into her skin.  She is a big girl like her Mama and pure white.  I don’t know whether she is blind or not or just wall eyed.

When we came home from Playgroup on Wednesday 9.11.11 we had another one!  Blossom who is old and wise and has seen and done it all before just quietly produced the most beautiful of little girls while we were gone.  Clover is a stunner and friendly and sweet and curious and charming.  Warm honey colour all over and a delight in every way (we are all very in love with her!)

On Saturday 12.11.11 we were going in to Port Macquarie to stay with Mummy and Daddy at The Observatory for the night.  It was a blisteringly hot day and the usual mad panic rush trying to get everything done and organised before we could leave the farm in the capable hands of the Wwoofers.  I was just going to go for a very quick trot around ‘the other side’ when I saw all the alpacas nosing something on the ground on the hill above the office.  Sure enough, Wendy had FINALLY (a year to the day after insemination) given birth to a sweet little boy who was very grubby from rolling in the dust bowl under the tree but it was a great feeling to leave knowing we had three little babies safely landed on the ground and suckling . . . at last!

We do love our alpacas and I can see that this herd will just grow and grow . . . particularly since Orlando is determined to making it so by clambering onto each of these recently relieved of their baby ladies and singing them sweet songs of love . . .

Two Dead Lambs

by . Posted on
02 Oct

We have been waiting and waiting and waiting for our big ewe to birth.  Checking her udder every day and saying ‘surely it can’t be much longer’.  Every day as Boo and I drive past I have said ‘What is she waiting for?’ and 2 year old Ben has replied ‘Christmas’.  I hope not . . .

This morning when I went for my run at about 6 she was standing on her own obviously labouring.  I went back to the house and googled sheep birthing schedules and positions.  After my experience with Daisy I determined not to get in there too early so I decided to go for my run and check on her when I got back.

She was still straining when I got back so I consulted google again.  I should have got in there a lot earlier (hindsight is such a wonderful thing!)  Ged went up to the office (she had returned to her favourite spot under the office) and said there was a nose poking out so we grabbed the camera and Pickle and walked up to the office all excited, expecting to see a lamb or two at last.

But when we got there it was still just a nose and it was definitely time to go in.  So we hung up the camera and I put my hand in.  Bush midwifery – no antiseptic, scrubbing or gloves!  The head was stuck and the lamb was definitely dead but I couldn’t get any purchase and couldn’t get my other hand in.  Ged took over and I do not know how he got both of his big hands in there.  After some manoeuvring he pulled out one huge dead lamb.  My poor child witnesses too much death on the farm.  One can only hope that what he learns  is that death is a constant part of the incredible cycle of life.  Natural, inevitable, not to be afraid of . . .

I sent Ged back to the house for the Emergency Essence, Bug Buster, Penicillin, hot water etc.  The lamb smelled pretty bad and had obviously been dead for a while.  She knew she was birthing death.  When he got back Ged wanted to go back in in case there was another lamb.  I said ‘surely she would still be straining’ and was convinced that the size of the first lamb precluded another.  But when I felt along the flank I agreed that there was probably another and this time he soaped up before beginning his grim task.  The squeamish should turn away now . . . I am sorry to say that the lamb came apart in the process (long dead).  We shielded Ben from the gruesomeness.  He kept saying ‘I don’t want a dead lamb’ . . . neither did we.

The worry now was the poor ewe.  The uterus was obviously infected and she was exhausted.  I administered Emergency Essence orally and over her head, Bug Buster orally and a penicillin injection.  We cleaned up the vagina but it didn’t look good.  She was so weak and tired.  I gave her water too and we got her some food.  She had a huge drink but she wasn’t interested in food.  Ged didn’t think she would make it and certainly it looked very unlikely.

We walked home and I left a message for the vet to call us and rang the sheep breeder for any tips or advice.  He had nothing to offer us but luckily the vet was more helpful.  He told us to go to the Dairy and borrow syntocin to encourage uterine contractions to expel any retained placenta or other debris.  And also to borrow Ketol for energy and prevent pregnancy toxaemia.  And keep up the massive doses of penicillin.

We did as we were told and she made a truly miraculous recovery although she was pretty depressed for the first week.  We knew how good she was feeling by how difficult she was to catch!  Ged’s rugby tackles improved significantly in a week but he sustained some decent bruises in the process!  She’s a big girl!

We were all pretty depressed that our first foray into sheep breeding had delivered such sorrow although we have to be grateful for opportunities to improve our livestock knowledge and midwifery skills . . .

Two weeks later we awoke one morning to two live lambs huddled by their proud Mama.  They are now frolicking in the fields as one would expect for a lush spring at Avalon.

As Sticky taught me long ago and as farmers have been saying since time began ‘Where you’ve got livestock, you’ll have dead stock.’  Such is the nature of life.  Witnessing the bright brilliance of birth and the sweet sorrowful surrender into death is the privilege and humility of the farmer’s life.