Two very good pigs. This is bound to be a tearjerker...since I am already crying as I type. There may be no-one left to read this, after several years of not posting, but...it is what it is.
This is how it played out. I can see no coincidence in this. Only God providing a way for piglets that otherwise would have been orphans.
Belinda and Olivia were both due to farrow on Monday this week. The day came and went, no piglets.
Tuesday, no piglets. Wednesday, not even a hint of nest building.
Thursday morning, I noticed that Belinda was lying in her shelter, with one piglet nursing. Several hours later, still only one, but she was having some inconsistent and futile contractions. More piglets, or afterbirth should have been delivered by then. My bet was on more piglets, since she was still quite round.
By 3 that afternoon, I dug out some gloves and checked things out inside of her... I could feel one tiny leg, too far back for me to maneuver it in any direction.
The vet was an hour away, but he headed toward us. I was supposed to keep trying to maneuver that little leg so that I could find the second leg, to get the piglet into position, but could not get farther than my wrist. All the tangle of piglets or poor presentation was much farther back than that. We all needed a break, and Belinda let her one little piglet nurse while we waited for the vet.
The other good pig, Olivia, had spent all afternoon arranging and rearranging her nest, with every available piece of bedding. She was set up like a queen and soon began having her own litter.
Three of Olivia's littles were nursing by the time the vet arrived. We bypassed her stall to get to Belinda's outside shelter. The vet said in an off-handed sort of way as he looked in at Belinda "Not to make you feel bad, or anything, but this is why they use farrowing crates." I know enough about this great vet not to take offense at things like this.
He crawled in with Belinda, finding the same little piglet stuck and with no room to move backwards or to rotate. It was a scene from Jim Herriot's "All Creatures Great and Small", vet on the ground next to my pig, trying to save the litter.
At one point, he looked at his own hand in disgust, and said "Smallest hands in my graduating vet class, and I can't get far enough in to make a bit of difference!!!"
All the while, Belinda was being restrained by me, working through contractions, breathing heavily but become more and more exhausted. I kept the straw away from her nose, my knee against her back, my one hand on the bottom of her jaw, my forearm across her head so that she was not flailing as the vet worked and tried again.
We talked about how it was amazing that the piglet blocking everything was still alive. I said (in wonder as this came out of my own mouth) "Then we can't cut him apart to get him out of the way, can we?"
We talked about a C-section. It would have meant calling another vet, waiting until they could arrive, paying a hefty fee that my farm program could not afford.
We talked about how that piglet would not be able to fit through her pelvis, even if the jumble of waiting piglets could be reconfigured and maneuvered into place.
I asked him if Belinda or the babies had a chance if we left things to progress, and he said "No". Who knows how long she had been in labor before I found her and her piglet, at 10 am. I suspect she was exhausted already by then, and contractions had already started to ease up when I found her.
He remarked on what a good mama she was, as she allowed her one live piglet to continue nursing through all the man-handling that was going on, to save the rest of her babies. Read his comment with the appropriate amount of dismay as he saw a good pig with no hope to nurse her entire litter: "She's a really good momma, too".
There were a few swear words, from the vet who takes it as a personal challenge to save the last salvage-able.
And then I said something else that I never expected to consider. "If we put her down, can we save the babies"... He looked at me. Took a moment, then said "Yes!"
Olivia was in the stall, with 3 of her own. We never have pigs farrowing at exactly the same time, especially if both pigs are several days overdue. I thought she must be resting between shifts of piglets being born, and mentally tallied up how many she could nurse.
The vet looked at me again, ascertaining whether I was serious. And I had to be.
Belinda could not deliver those babies. I could not sit by and let a live litter inside of her die with her.
Jeff went and got the new shiny gun, which had only been used for target practice before then...
Our vet got the necessary equipment out of his truck. I got out of the way and had the piglet triage set up...a box of straw, lots of paper towels, ready for piglets to be handed to me and made to breathe.
I put Belinda's little boar back with her, to get as much colostrum as he could, just in case Olivia would not accept him. It was rather heartbreaking at that point, good mama sow with her one baby for one last moment, and the knowledge that she would not raise her own litter.
I vaguely remember Jeff asking the vet's advice on where to shoot for the quickest end. The vet said "I don't know! I've never had to SHOOT a pig". That made me chuckle...maybe nerves.
The shot sounded...the movement stopped...I could see the vet with his knife ready and had to look away.
In no time, piglets were being handed to me. The big one who had blocked the birth canal was taking his first breath.
Two very small ones were handed to me, one was lifeless, one was gasping.
Another was handed over, squirming.
Then the last, with umbilical cord still attached to a bit of placenta, dead.
I started handing piglets back to the men, asking them to help me stimulate the weak ones as they struggled to breathe.
Coffee and Karo syrup were administered to one that seemed an unlikely prospect.
All in all, FOUR of those six that were pulled from inside of her were squirming in the box when we slowed down to take a moment.
I checked on Olivia. Still three piglets, nursing. And hope started to take over, as I saw that she had delivered the placenta. It is unheard of for Olivia to only have 3 piglets. But if she was done farrowing, she would be in a deep sleep for hours, while the piglets nursed.
This part, I was glad that I'd put on gloves earlier... I took that afterbirth, and each of Belinda's live piglets was bathed in it. Olivia took no notice.
Olivia's three piglets were glossy, big, beautiful. Three of Belinda's were small and weak. Only two of Belinda's latched right on to nurse. One of those was the little boar who had her all to himself while the others were waiting to be born.
While our wonderful vet was getting his things together, I brought out warm colostrum for the 3 smallest, and hoped...
We stood there for a few minutes, watching Olivia to be sure she did not turn on the piglets who were not her own. I thanked him. I don't think he accepted it. He was still disgusted at himself for not saving my sow.
Colostrum once more for the tiny ones, before I headed to bed a bit later. All 8 were alive, with Olivia blissfully asleep.
This morning, I woke up with tears in my eyes. 6 am... Trudged out to the barn. Olivia sprang up to get her breakfast.
Another miracle! All 8 were alive and squirming in the warm nest that she left behind.
In any litter, the first 24-36 hours are when deaths may happen. I will hold out hope for all 8 to survive, in this unplanned, foster litter, with a sow who (at great surprise to me!), only had 3 of her own this time. I had prayed over that mama, and her babies, and asked that God protect the lives of the little ones inside of her, even as I could not have known what the outcome for my sow would be.
What are the odds that two pigs, overdue by 4 days, would be in labor at the same time... That one mother whose life was forfeit would still give life to 5 of her 8 piglets, even as her own life was lost. That one mother who usually has a large litter of her own, this time had a very small litter and ample room for someone else's babies. And that...at the very moment when one sow lost her life for the sake of her litter, the other was in no state to refuse the new little lives that were introduced to her own litter, and the orphans nursed all night without being rejected.
The odds were great, but our God is greater. That's all I can say at this point. The timing was impossible, but, there it is.
Jeff is digging the hole for Belinda to be buried in. I will be fighting tears all day. A 7 year old sow has adopted five piglets that are not her own, and has no idea what a hero I think she is.
And once again, I thank you for reading, as I put my thoughts into words and work through my own grief. It has been a long time since I felt the need to write for the blog, but today it was time.
Laura
