“Birth story” isn’t a term I heard until I entered the world of midwives and home birth right around my 5th baby. At first I thought it was an odd way to label “having a baby”, but over time I have really come to love the term as it is very accurate. The birth of each and every baby is a story. Special and unique to that mother and child. And every one of them is so very, very different which makes them all the more interesting to hear and tell. Out of my 7, each one has had something unusual or remarkable about it so that the retelling of each story is always interesting. My children love to hear the tales of how they came into this world.
Ok, enough of my rambling. I know what you're really here for is to hear about LUCY’s birth story. (Warning: I do include ALL the details so may not be for the weak-stomached!)
Last time around Lucy was a few days later than her predicted due date (and if you have ever had any dealings with a baby’s due date then you’ll know just how loosely you must hold a due date - there is absolutely nothing certain about them). So I did expect her to follow that pattern again, assuming January 6th would roll around with an empty whelping box. However, I had been all set up since the day after Christmas just in case she surprised me.
Yesterday was planned out in my mind with the following: put away the Christmas decorations and begin our homeschooling. It seemed like a good plan to get these things underway before the puppies arrived and things became even more chaotic than usual. However, it was not to be (and rarely is, as a matter of fact…).
The day before I received a phone call from the ski resort over an hour away from our home. A few of my kids had gone skiing with friends and, as the proud owner of a license, Hannah had driven them up for the day while I stayed behind for the dishwasher repair man (yeah, I definitely got the raw end of the deal but when you’ve been waiting 4 weeks you don’t reschedule!). Seeing the phone number for “Beech Mountain” come up on my phone knowing my kids were all slipping down icy slopes an hour away definitely put a sick feeling in my stomach immediately. Surely no one was hurt…
Micah had slammed his wrist on a railing in the snowboarding park and it looked broken. Definitely not the news I wanted to hear, but thankful it was not more serious. But it was still hard to wait for them to drive all that way home, wondering how he was doing, how much pain he was in, and what his mental state was going to be like since he had just put his entire summer savings into a season pass and the season had just started. Ouch. “Bitter disappointment” might even be an understatement.
And so my originally planned school day the following morning began with an early morning trip to the local walk-in ortho clinic. The doctor recognized me. And asked after several of my kids. Apparently we visit EmergOrtho a bit more than the typical family and Dr. Jenkins and I are striking up a wonderful friendship because of it. Lovely. We went home with a referral to the hand surgeon, a fancy splint while we wait, and a very unhappy 14 year old.
As soon as I returned it was time to stuff breakfast into everyone and get ready to run out to another doctor’s appointment. I delegated jobs to all of those with two working arms - dishes, trash, collecting various Christmas items and began to notice that Lucy was not herself. She was trembling violently, teeth chattering. And curled up on a beanbag like she was freezing. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. One minute she’d curl up in a ball, the next she was pacing to go out, and then barking to come in. She climbed into Hannah’s bed and found comfort in snuggling with the teenager who still hadn’t dragged herself out from under the covers (I mean, who wouldn’t leap out of bed with a day of math homework and Christmas clean up to look forward to?).
I canceled the doctor’s appointment. Lucy appeared to be in labor and staying home was the only real choice here. We went about our day as much as usual and poor Lucy seemed unable to decide where to be and what to do. We tried keeping her in the whelping box as much as possible but I knew it may still be hours before the first puppy arrived. Lucy kept insisting on going out and coming in constantly which was driving me a bit insane because I would only leave her out for a few moments before calling her back in. I knew she was feeling pressure like she had to go to the bathroom and if she had a puppy outside it was cold enough to kill it. Finally on her last trip out she came in with very muddy paws and I knew she was trying to nest. She had a gush of fluid while I cleaned her up indicating things were really getting started, but I knew it could still be several hours before the first puppy arrived. I instructed everyone to make sure Lucy did not go back outside unless someone was with her.
I tried to wrap up a few things before my attention had to be on Lucy the rest of the day. The dishes (STILL no working dishwasher :( ), the huge piles of laundry in the living room that had backed up over our Christmas that weekend (we had postponed our celebration due to sickness over the actual holiday), putting away the few decorations we had taken down and were now cluttering the kitchen table… Lucy kept pacing, front door, back door, front door, trying to convince someone to let her out. As I looked up from the last dish I noticed she wasn’t at a door. Whoops I thought, wonder where she slipped off to… Apparently the boys bedroom was a more welcome whelping location than the cozy box I had set up because there one lay in a puddle of blood and Lucy busily cleaning things up. The kids were a little disturbed by the blood as they coaxed Lucy into the real whelping box and I scooped up the slippery puppy and placenta with a towel and followed them into the laundry room, a trail of blood dripping across the floor and down my shirt. I reminded them that a lot of blood was very normal and ok so let’s not get too grossed out and just take care of Lucy! Since I wasn’t sure how long the pup had been born (although it couldn’t have been more than a few moments), I gently ripped the sac off the puppy’s face while keeping it’s head down so it wouldn’t aspirate any fluid. Lucy took over and ate up the placenta (normal, healthy behavior for all animals) and gently bit off the cord. It amazes me the natural instinct all animals have to just do what needs to be done. Goats do the same thing. It’s incredible. Lucy is such a good mama and I’ve never had to worry about a thing. She licked and cleaned until the pup was dry and crying, moving around, looking to nurse just moments after birth.
And so it began. Every 45 minutes or so, another puppy would appear. Lucy scared me a bit with the second pup. Usually they slip right out after a push or two but after several contractions and a lot of pushing, it was still only half-way out, thankfully head first. Lucy looked at me and began to whimper, which also had never happened. I decided another position might help and I worked to get her up, which she was not having. I moved the first puppy onto the heating pad and physically lifted Lucy onto her feet. I ordered a kid to get the coconut oil, pulled on rubber gloves and prepared to help on the next contraction if needed. But on that one, puppy finally came and my heart rate went back to normal. All other puppies came with no trouble, but #2 was a bit of a chub so I can see why Lucy wasn’t happy with him.
There was a spurt of puppies every 15 minutes or so around 4, 5 and 6. I missed one as I went out for water but Lucy was in a rhythm now and probably didn’t even need me. Then 7, 8, and 9 came more slowly, with each one I wondered if it was the last. I kept busy with changing pads and washing towels (it’s handy to have the washing machine right there!) and before I knew it, 4 hours had slipped by! We gave Lucy leftover salmon from dinner to snack on while she continued to labor, offered water and just kept watching.
Puppies have heat sensors in their nose that take them to Mama while their eyes are sealed shut, although at times they end up hunting at the wrong end. So I would try to be aware of Lucy contracting so I could put puppies out of the way of a coming brother or sister. The whole process is quite the remarkable miracle and I’m grateful my family has been able to experience it. And also thankful that being a mother 7 times and handling farm animals has immunized me from being overly sensitive to gross, yet normal things (except for puke, that is absolutely the worst).
Moriah and Zip set themselves up with a game and some chairs while they aways the next arrival!
This morning the puppies were happily nursing away, the suckling noises almost deafening in our little laundry room. Lucy received breakfast in bed.
The mark of a good mama is one who almost never leaves the box during the first 4 weeks. It’s a lot for Lucy. But she lays there almost all day, nursing those pups, with short breaks to run out to relieve herself and maybe grab a quick snack, then it’s right back to the box. She cleans up after their messes and runs to their every whimper. If I take one up to weigh or check she watches the puppy like a hawk, not even quite sure that I can be trusted with her precious bundle. My children are already aching to hold a puppy, but for the first few weeks the puppies are handled minimally. Just a quick check and a weight and then back to mama.
Too much more stresses Mama and the puppies. While their eyes are sealed shut they are left in quiet and darkness to nurse and develop with only Lucy to nurture their first important weeks of life.
There are only 3 puppies left as available in this litter. If you are interested in reserving one of Lucy's puppies please fill out an application or email us at bramblymountainfarm@gmail.com! If you want to have our updates go straight to your inbox subscribe here.
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