The Lambing Barn

WARNING: Graphic pics of birth, don't look if you barf easily

Our barn has many names depending on what time of year it is. This barn naming carried over from the Colorado barn to the Wyoming barn with ease.

In the winter it’s the storm shelter barn.

In the spring it has many names, storm shelter barn, hail protection barn, early spring its the shearing barn. When the spring thunderstorms come bringing hail with them we have driven trucks in along with animals. They do all fit.

Summer and fall it’s mainly just the storm shelter barn.

Out of necessity it can also be the hospital barn.

Right now it’s the lambing barn. It’s one of my happy places. I’ve spent many hours in both lambing barns, slept in them, sat in them, frozen my butt off in them, sweat my boobs off in them, and watched many babies being born in them.

Fold away jugs, they lay flat against the wall when not in use. We use them to let the moms and babies bond without interference from other sheep.

There is something very special about the lambing barn. For one thing, it’s not nearly as noisy as storm use barn nor shearing barn.

It’s a spiritual quiet.

I know that sounds funny, but it’s really not. Something happens to the ewes when they are close to delivery. The raging hormones makes even the most stand-offish ewe become your best friend. They are quiet, unless you walk in with a scoop of grain, they are soft and peaceful in their waiting.

They know they are safe from predators, that I am there to help if they need it, and they seem to let their guard down for just a small bit of time in their lives.

Right now, the four pregnant ewes have been in the barn awaiting their babies for just a bit less than a week. Two are quite huge, and two are a bit slimmer. I long ago gave up guessing how many they are carrying. The biggest ewe can deliver one baby, and the smallest can pop out two or three. Three are experienced mothers, and one is a first timer. I would have had 5 this year, but Miss Spota miscarried 6 weeks ago. Lovely Miss Lucy is also in the barn this year. She is there to eat without having to work for it since she lost weight over winter. Plus she is also the herd matron and can having a further calming effect on the other girls, and she makes a great surrogate babysitter!

At this moment, Wednesday afternoon 5/10, it appears that two may be in early labor. I’ve been watching them for a few hours, and they are showing the signs. Pacing, pawing the ground, getting down then right back up, rubbing their bellies on the wall, a bit of teeth grinding, nose to the ground, standing off by themselves. I’ve had my eyes on them for about 4 hours now.

It’s a slow process to get to the pushing part. I’m in no rush. They are in no rush. I have all night to sit with them if need be.

Thursday 5/11, one ewe was fooling me, and the other started her second stage of labor at 9am. That was an adventure! Single leg/head position, and I’m telling you, this was a big head!!! So big the baby was stuck. Big stuck. And I was alone with her, so you can imagine me trying to pull this baby with mom turning in circles, convinced that the baby is already out and she needs to clean it. She was getting pretty upset she could not find her baby. I’m pulling the one leg, and with the other hand working it around the baby’s head trying to stretch things out just a small fraction of an inch more to get it out. I did call my son first to come home to help, but I hate waiting since the baby was wiggling its tongue at me already and in distress.

Aife and her big stuck baby

Circle circle pull pull circle circle, got the head out. Now the shoulder with the leg back is stuck. Circle circle pull pull circle pull got the shoulder out, one more pull around the rib cage and baby is on the ground gasping for air.

Then my son shows up.

Got mom and the baby in the jug and she’s being a great mom cleaning up this big girl. Shes cooing at her and being so gentle. Then the second water bag shows up, and her comes little girl into the world with no help.

Big head and little head

After all that stretching, you could fly a jet into the ewe!

Both babies were up and looking for breakfast within 20 mins of being born, which is always a good sign. Sadly, mom was not letting her milk down. After a few hours I decided to bottle feed some colostrum to them and hope that maybe it was just a rough birth for mom and she was upset.

24 hours later and several bottle feedings in between, mom still had no milk. I got a bucket of hot water and my son held the ewe and I gave her a good hot massage and it got her milk flowing. Sometimes things get blocked up in there and it needs some help to get it moving. Both babies nursed to their hearts content and promptly fell asleep.

I do have all the necessary medical things prepositioned. A few different medications, O. B. straps if one gets stuck, O. B. lube if I have to go in and feel around, sometimes twins get tangled. Iodine for belly button dipping. Colostrum in the house along with a bottle and nipples if I end up with a bum. Lamb milk replacer in the freezer also. And the vet on speed dial.

We have storms moving in now. I believe the drop in the barometric pressure has tripped my girl into labor. Technically, the first due date is 5/12, so two days early. No worries though, the lambies are done cooking.

It’s the most amazing thing to watch a ewe deliver a lamb. The eons of instinct which cannot be denied, the natural drive to push the lamb out. It’s overwhelming to watch. It moves me to tears of joy to watch these ewes do what countless generations of her ancestors did. To also know on my own part that I, too, have experienced the same thing both as a mother in labor, and as a catcher of a baby on an ambulance. To know that no matter what, there comes a time in the labor where there is no turning back as it were.

I find myself cheering on the pushing mom and leaning forward tensing my own abdomen up, whether it’s in commiseration or some metaphysical energy transfer to help her, I don’t know, but I do it every time!

And to watch an ewe turn around immediately and start cleaning her baby. The instinct to clean off the face and allow them to take their first breaths of air, if the bag didn’t come off during the drop down. Sheep will do the pushing part laying down, but the delivery part standing up. That drop onto the ground gives the baby that first jolt to get them breathing, and it breaks the umbilical cord too

The mama’s also start talking to the baby right away. Soft cooing trills so that baby knows mama’s voice over all others. I adore that sound. So sweet and soft. The babies answer and they both learn about each other. It’s amazing!

Friday 5/12 I’m at work and did warn them I had a ewe in early labor. My son was home today and watching everyone. I got a panic phone call from him about 11:30

“Mom! MoMo has something sticking out of her ass. I don’t know if its shit or legs!”

Seriously, that’s what he said verbatim.

Told my boss I’m leaving, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.

Get home to find MoMo in the jug with two back feet and a tail sticking out and my son trying to pull the baby. MoMo was less than cooperative. My son got on her head and I got on the baby feet and we started to work that baby out. MoMo decided that laying down was a better position, and in truth, it was. I was able to get that big girl out ricky tick. She does not seem to be suffering from her backwards entry into the world.

MoMo started passing a bunch of puss looking white stuff with the rest of the amniotic bag. I had to head back to work, and contacted my vet about it. I had never seen this stuff before.

He wanted a sample to look at before we started pouring antibiotics on her. So back home, then down to the vet I go with a sample. He got it under the microscope and said no bacteria, no white blood cells, no infection. Just birth goo.

Ok then.

Back home, MoMo and baby are now up and nursing (Thanks Michael!) and all is well in the lambing barn.

Still have two more girls to go. They don’t appear to be in any hurry at the moment, and I’m sure they are looking to pick the most inconvenient time to deliver. Middle of the night, while I’m at work, when I have to really go to the bathroom. In 11 years, I think I’ve only missed 2 births, and I am eternally grateful they both went well without me around to stick my nose in.

So stay tuned for part two of the lambing barn adventures!!!

Blessed Be!