In my last post, I talked about waiting for Gracie, maybe Izzy is bred, yadda yadda. I will admit, I got fooled. I got home last night, and Izzy, who was still out with everyone else, was out in the shed in active labor. Mark and I got her up and into the stall with Gracie, and then the real excitement began.
At first, everything seemed OK. She was doing a lot of pushing, pacing, and grunting, but then again, so did I when I was in labor. After about 45 minutes I got concerned and called Chris, who is not home at the moment, of course, to see what he said. Of course, he hasn't delivered any more lambs than I have, so I moved on to calling Bernadine, our sheep mentor. Get worried, she said. Lube up and check her. So in I reach and find a head and legs. It was right there and just not coming out.
At this point, she and Olivia headed over, and Bernie checked her herself. We tried getting hold of feet, encouraging, etc, with no success. So we start calling vets. Calling a vet that isn't your own, after hours, is not a cheap proposition. After a few calls and consultations, we got Dr. Roher in (thank you Debbie B and Deborahlee for making this happen in the midst of my crisis).
Dr. Dan's first comment on examination was, "Did you breed her to a Hostein or something?"
"Why?" says I. "Does the lamb have a big head?"
"This lamb has a big everything," he replied.
To make a long story short, the vet spent hours here trying to get this lamb out, but it wouldn't come out. After facilitating removal, we gave her tons of drugs and antibiotics, and the poor man never left here until after 1 am. By the time we got Izzy all situated, it was 2 am. She did sit up and drink some water, which is a hopeful sign, but she's still not out of the woods.
So the sum total of this affair was, we still have is, and hopefully we will be able to keep her going, and we have no lamb to show for her suffering.
Next at bat, Miss Gracie, who hopefully will avoid having another freakishly large lamb.