The moment I had been anticipating for what seemed like weeks finally arrived. Brie was in labor.
I happened to see her paw the ground Sunday afternoon somewhere around 3 p.m. I decided to put her in the stall and keep check on her. Unlike the times I put her in there before, she was content to go in without much of a fuss. I added some extra straw for comfort, but she continued to paw bare places in it. Over the next couple of hours I checked on her every 30-45 minutes and then I noticed her panting and getting that wild look in her eyes.
Then she became very affectionate. She would crawl on her front knees over to me and lay her head on me. This was not normal for Queen Brie. I sat and watched her as she would have contractions and push. At least what I thought was pushing. By 8 p.m. I saw a bright red string of discharge and turned to the World Wide Web to advise me. Well, that scared the bejeebies out of me; 'unless the discharge is bright red, one should not be worried.' WHAT?!? I called an experienced neighbor/farmer from church that had goats. His wife was home, but he had not returned from Sunday night church yet. I called a local veterinarian office, and after going through a call list, I got a number for the "vet on call." I waited for the neighbor to call. He said he wasn't sure and his advice was to let nature take its course and put everything in God's hands. Always good advice, but being me, I needed more knowledge and information. Around 9:30 p.m, after talking to my mom, I called the emergency number and left a message regarding the red discharge, her "pushing" for at least two hours (whereas the internet said anything over 30 minutes was another cause for concern) and added that this was my and Brie's first time, as I have been known to jump the gun and overreact a bit-I am working on that. It only took a few minutes for the vet to call me back. She was very calm and helpful. I took the phone out to the barn and put on gloves to see if I could feel anything, and we decided she was not dilated enough yet and just wait it out a bit more and that sometimes it looks like they are pushing when they try to position the kids. Well, before I was off the phone, I saw the REAL pushing. She was laying on her side all four legs straight out. Every time she pushed, I tensed my jaw. (I will be on a liquid diet for at least two days unable to chew right!) Mollie (Brie's sister), had been lying in front of the door up until this point. I ran in the house to get my bag of goodies to have on hand (extra gloves, swabs, iodine, and other medical supplies). When I returned, Mollie had moved to the farthest corner of the goat yard facing the neighbors field. Almost like hubby's reaction when I told him he could come in when he was checking on us throughout the evening. I don't think he broke the plane of the doorway.
Yep, then came the water bubble. Out it went. It took a bit for me to see anything recognizable. I watched and felt for the feet and nose of a normal birth. Of course this is not what happened. It was breech. It was a little butt poking out. When I was able to grab hold, I would pull a little in rhythm with her pushing. Finally, little skunk butt arrived (don't worry, that is not his official name). I took a towel, paper towels and began to help cleaning him off. He was breathing and making little squeaky noises. Brie began help cleaning him. I took the old sheet and laid it down to put the wee one on while we finished cleaning.
Then Brie began pushing again. I turned to throw away a paper towel and turned back to see two more kids on the floor. Ahhh! How, what?? I needed about four more hands. I frantically began throwing goo from them and put them on the sheet too so I could help Brie clean as needed.
So for many more minutes, Brie and I-in very different ways-began to clean off the triplets. I was very concerned that with three one might be rejected. But I was happily wrong. Brie talked and cleaned each of them carefully.
Two girls and one boy. The little boy, the first and breech, has been the smallest and weakest. I was concerned about him nursing with the larger, stronger girls. Each time I went out there, he seemed uninterested in eating. I laid my worries to rest after watching Brie let the girls nurse and then she followed the little boy around incessantly, nudging him under her, talking gently to him, until finally he would eat, not much, but some. I am so proud that she is such a wonderful mother! Who would have thought that stubborn, Queen Brie would change into Mother Teresa. It almost gives me hope that mankind might change for the better too.
