And One More Makes 23

Our goat, Zoe, became a proud mama to Little Boy Blue last Tuesday.  He was born weighing just over 9 pounds and bumped our total animal count to 23 (if you count the litter of 5 bunnies that was born the same morning).  But if you ask Owen, he will tell you we have 1023 animals.  Let us not forget our worms. They are animals to the 4 year old.

The birth of Blue has allowed me to stop pacing around the house like a nervous auntie.  The kids were waking for days with the question, "Any babies yet?" and I was tired of searching the internet for information.  I had gathered all the recommended supplies and then just waited - checking on Zoe as often as I could to look for changes.  I didn't really know what "changes" I would see, but the internet told me to check on her.  So we did.

Jason thought I was a bit strange (no big surprise) when I told him that we should check on her once in the middle of the night.  What I really meant was that HE should check on her because it sounded like a husbandly thing to do - go out in to the dark barn at 3 a.m. in the cold.

It was the second night of his 3 a.m. alarm that I heard him call my name.  I think he yelled, "There's a baby on the ground!!!" and I'm pretty sure I yelled while still asleep, "Is it alive?".  I guess I was a little nervous that something would happen and I wouldn't be there to save the day.  I'm certain that my lack of trust in the natural animal birth process goes back to my programming as a woman that birth is a medical event and not just a birth.  Don't get me started......Thankfully, our goat hasn't been fed negative birth images and was perfectly happy to birth alone in a barn.  God knew what he was doing with those barn births all along. 

Back to the story at hand.

I went running outside, just seconds behind Jason, and we were both in awe when we saw Zoe cleaning off this little, perfect goat.

Jason lost all control of the volume of his voice as he recapped what had happened in the minutes prior to me jumping out of bed.   I had to tell him to be quiet about 10 times so that he didn't disturb the goats.   It was pretty fun to see him as excited as I was, not to mention that I would no longer be crazy for telling him to get up at 3 a.m.

Jason filled me in on the details: he had entered the barn just as the goat was presenting, meaning that he saw the nose and two hooves coming first.  Thanks to my internet research, he knew that was the right position, so he dashed back to the house, grabbed the "birth kit", yelled for me to come.  We both missed the birth, but we were so thankful that Zoe had all the perfect motherly instincts kick in.   

Besides a little encouragement to find where the milk comes out, Little Blue has done very well.  Zoe is a  protective mom, but let's us handle and visit with Blue while she supervises and tolerates being milked. Everyone in our family now knows how to milk a goat, which is pretty cute.   

I think I might need to order Jason overalls for his birthday.