Daisy’s Easter Miracle — Part Two
Despite it being Easter Sunday, the on-call vet picked up right away. She said she had been thinking about us. I told her that Daisy was now in distress and moaning. She asked if I knew anyone who would be comfortable doing an internal check and pulling babies if she was dilated. I called my sheep shearing partner Alex, and he and his partner Tina headed right over. I called my cousin Niki to tell her what was happening.
Meanwhile, not only was Daisy in distress, she wouldn’t let me touch her belly. The babies were huge, and squirming around in there. Daisy had been very brave so far, but now she was in serious pain.
Tina and Alex had delivered hundreds of baby sheep and goats at their jobs at a nearby dairy. Both were calm and focused. Alex and I held and petted Daisy. Tina — with her tiny hands — gloved up, lubed up and went in to check.
Tina could feel that Daisy was fairly well dilated. She could also feel a kid. Way up there, out of reach of her hand, and turned completely sideways. Transverse. Impossible to deliver.
The transverse kid was still in the sack. There was a chance it was still alive. If the sack or cord breaks the kid will try to breathe and then drown quickly in the amniotic fluid. We could see Daisy’s sides bulging with squirming babies. There were live babies, but the clock was ticking.
I called the vet. She was a half hour away, and she headed right down.
We were all praying that she knew a special veterinary magic trick to get that sideways baby out.
It was day 145 from Daisy’s second breeding. Her due date. It was day 151 from the first breeding. Overdue. Any kids from that event had just been getting larger and larger. No wonder Daisy was so hungry the whole time.
The vet arrived, hurried into the barn, and did a check. No way could she get a grip on that baby. She offered two choices. “Wait and see” or c-section. That decision was terrifying, but easy.
We loaded Daisy into the truck and I sat with her in the bed. Niki drove the 20 minutes to the large animal hospital while I hugged Daisy and cried and prayed to all the gods for a miracle.
At the hospital, in the barn/operating room, the vet and her assistant were getting things set up. The vet asked us “who wants mask and who wants babies?”
I chose to hold the calf-sized anesthesia mask padded with washcloths over Daisy’s mouth and nose. I didn’t want to leave her side.
Niki chose baby duty.
Daisy was lightly sedated, scrubbed, and shaved. The vet and her assistant worked quickly but with great precision and care. We hoisted Daisy onto the table, I held her mask on, and we turned on the antique anesthesia machine.
Wasting no time, the vet started making the incision. One perfect cut for each of the seven layers of skin. She reached in, pushed aside the rumen, and found Daisy’s uterus. It was huge. Bigger than the incision. The doctor lengthened the cut and tried again. And the uterus was out. With a different scalpel she sliced an opening in the uterus for her hand. Then she went in to retrieve babies.
She could immediately feel that these babies were HUGE. No way little Daisy could have delivered them naturally.
Transverse kid came out first. Completely limp and sopping wet. Not breathing. Niki and the vet assistant went to work. Suctioning nose and mouth, rubbing HARD. The vet was saying “keep going, keep going. Bother it awake”. She was chanting to the babies. “You want to live, you want to live”.
When baby goats are born by c-section they are completely underwater in the amniotic fluid. The minute the cord is cut they try to breathe and their mouths and noses fill with fluid. By not being squeezed on their way out they aren’t prepared for the shock of birth. It takes a lot to revive them.
I held the mask over Daisy’s face and watched her breathing. Her breaths slowed down, and almost stopped. I was terrified we were losing her. We turned down the gas a notch while the vet pulled out a second limp and soaking kid. This one was smaller than the first, lighter colored, and even limper. No sign of life whatsoever. With still no breathing or movement from the first kid, Niki and the assistant went to work on the second kid as well.
The vet was still fishing around in that giant uterus. One more baby. An ENORMOUS baby. Even bigger than the first. Now Niki and the assistant had three dead babies to work on.
But this last kid opened its eyes. And then coughed! Oh my gosh we have a live baby! Just one live baby felt like a miracle after all that. I was shaking and crying tears of joy.
The vet started stitching Daisy up, all the while saying “don’t stop don’t stop” as Niki and the assistant suctioned and rubbed the little lifeless goats. The smallest one had a heartbeat, but it was faint. Hope for more survivors seemed dim.
Then baby #1 coughed and opened its eyes. More tears and amazement all around. We have TWO! They vet said “don’t stop, don’t stop”. She said “Come on baby you want to be alive”.
And out of nowhere, small brown baby #2’s eyelids fluttered open, and it coughed.
