When We Put Birth on Our Own Schedule

This family of three checked in for a farmstay experience at 4:00 this morning.  I woke at 2:00 am, hearing the mom hard at work over the lamb cam. I laid in bed trying to half sleep and half be attentive to her noises. I struggled to stay awake. There was no need to go out to the barn until her hard work was nearly over. I could see that her bag of water had not yet burst and that she was in the beginning stages of pushing. She did not need my help.

At one point, half asleep and half awake, I thought she had pushed out a lamb. I saw a black spot on the barn floor through my lam cam and she was licking it, but I saw no life. In a half asleep mode, I quickly ran to the barn. Hubby followed. The lifeless black spot turned out to just be her burst bag of water. I knew that often a lamb soon follows, as second stage labor was well underway, so we stayed in the barn waiting, huddling in the warmth of the heat lamps from the lambs born a few days ago. As in most cases though, when you disturb a laboring woman, this ewe’s contractions totally stalled. She was obviously distracted by our presence and by our activity there. I felt like an intruder and rather out of place. It was obvious that she wanted to labor in the comfort of her dark corner with her four legged friends near by and not us. So we walked back to the house to the warmth of our bed.

At last the hard work of pushing came through the lam cam, when the uterus works all on it’s own. There is no stopping it, the muscles contract as its only mission is to expel the life inside. So we made our way back to the barn. This ewe, Kendra, pushed her lambs out most efficiently all on her own. She reminded me of what I used to tell laboring moms in my natural childbirth classes, “push through your grunt, there’s strength in that guttural sound.” She did just that bringing forth a sound from deep within her and pushing right through it. She pushed until just the back legs remained inside and then, she stood up. The lambs hung from her back side and as she swung around looking for them, the momentum forced them to the floor.

Birthing on Our Own Schedule

Then, my lack of sleep kicked in and I wanted to put her lambs on my schedule so I could go back to bed. I felt myself saying, “hurry, clean them, dry them off, nurse.” If they would only nurse, to fill their tummies with warmth to give them strength and life, but their legs were not unfolded yet. They slid along the floor like little frogs, back legs sprawled, still wet with birthing fluids. I held them at the nipple getting frustrated at their lack of interest. If only they would nurse, then I could rest. I fussed at my husband for not helping me. The ewe became agitated. The lambs did not nurse and the clock ticked on. Isn’t this exactly what often happens? We get in the way of what God is in total control of. We get in the way of what instincts and thousands of years of birthing has proven-that moms and babies need time. That they know what to do. They need time to labor, time to birth, time to breathe, and time to bond. But I wanted to intrude, to rush it because I was tired, and the more I tried the worse the situation became. I knew that in my head, yet I continued.

It was not until we began doing our morning chores and left their side, for now it was nearly 6:00am, that mom and lambs settled in. Lambs found their legs. found their strength, and found the nipple. That’s all they needed, time…time….time. Birthing can not be put on a schedule without someone suffering from it.