A Lesson on Lambing.

Ever since I texted Frazer that I would be back in Donegal in March after graduation, I have been looking forward to experiencing "lambing." He responded that I would be returning just in time for the ewe's lambing, or giving birth. How excited was I to witness such an event! Once I arrived in Ireland, my parents and I drove through the green countryside on the way from the airport to our house, and everywhere I saw little baby lambs fumbling around their mothers in the field. I was worried I was too late. Frazer assured me that, although one was born early, the rest were due on Monday. How did he know that the sheep were due on that specific day? My cousin just had a baby 10 months early, how could he possibly know when all the sheep would give birth?! (It's all scheduled, very romantically, with the rams). The next couple days, no word to visit his farm except that he was sick with a cold and not working. I was sadly disappointed that I had missed my first, maybe only, spring lambing.

Lambs everywhere...Did I miss the Lambing?!

but, today, today was the day.

Frazer picked me up and we drove to the barn where the 150 ewes were waiting in pens to give birth. they had dots on their backs indicating the number of lambs they were pregnant with. one. two. or three. the smell of animal sensation and wooly hay filled the chilled barn, or maternity ward, as I wondered why I hadn't brought my inhaler. Oh, right, I remembered: I was too excited to go I even forgot my proper poop-proof wellies and a jacket, only grabbing my mandatory camera as I left. Frazer's dad was there monitoring the action, or lack of action. It seemed to be like a lot of waiting around for these expecting ewes to give birth.

First, they are "sick" and scratch their front hooves on the grated ground. The scratching is, I guess, an old habit ingrained in the sheep, as they are pretending to dig and build a nest for their newborn in what would have been a grassy field. They make a lot of gruntled noise and restlessly move about the pen, kneeling and lying down with difficulty, as they try to feel more comfortable. Their water pouch comes out first, sometimes just dangling there all filmy and bloody, and that's the indication of imminent birth. The ewe we were watching, actually gave birth, just in seconds, as we turned our attention to another ewe in another pen who had just lost its water pouch. The new baby lamb lay on the ground cold and wet as three ewes licked off the sticky liquid coating covering it. 

The mother, still standing strong, still had another baby to give birth to. She just gave birth and was still standing! Their strength absolutely amazed me. Watching the ewes lick off this thick film was quite hard to stomach, pun intended. I think it was to warm them by removing the surrounding wet membrane. I'm not sure if this is true about the other ewes, but I think sometimes they get confused if it is their child or not, because they are all in the impending process of labour. It is imperative for the farmer to be watching and present at all times in case a lamb is born and the film is covering it's mouth and nose, causing it to suffocate. The ewes don't seem to start licking at the head first so they only have a couple minutes to break free of it. The diet of the ewes is what make the film sometimes thicker than normal. For one lamb, Frazer had to wipe the film off it's face and then pick it up by it's rear legs and swing it a couple times to make sure that the air could reach it's lungs. As much as you don't want a dead lamb, the lamb is a commodity to the farmer and a dead one won't make him any money.

on it's way out...

Frazer had to rescue this wee one. 

Sometimes the ewes will gently stomp at the baby lying there to make sure that it is alive. After a few minutes, Frazer picked up the lamb and coaxed the mother out of the pen to follow into a single pen where the baby could be properly licked clean, warmed in hay, and get acquainted with its new life....watch below!!

The ewes have to bond with their lamb and have their own pen to identify with each other before they move out to the field - depending on strength and weather. Sometimes, young ewes giving birth for the first time don't accept their babies, or not noticing what happened think they just pooped, so they are in a pen with their head sticking out, boarded in, so that the lamb can still be fed without the mother wanting to crush it. Other times, it is possible for a lamb to die during birth, so if another ewe has twins or triplets, a lamb can be given to the other mother. This is called grafting. The lamb must be properly washed and rubbed with the birth sack of the new mother so that she believes that it is her own. Way back when, I don't know when, but sometimes the dead lamb would be skinned and that fur would be attached to the adopted baby. Within five minutes, the lamb had wobbly stood up on its own legs and naturally knew where to find the nipples to be fed. Amazing. Some lambs need to be fed with a bottle by the farmer - which I did!! and the little cutie sucked toothlessly on my finger. Adorable.

I can't help but laugh out-loud when I watch this. The loud baa-ing, the sheep farts, and the little newborn trying to stand up, so fragile and awkward, but so determined.

Wrinkly little newborn. They have pretty long tails at first, but the farmer places a tight rubber ring on their tail and as they grow, the band doesn't allow the tail to get bigger, and eventually falls off so they just have a fluffy little nub of a tail. This is called docking and apparently it is harmless to them. It doesn't sound very natural, but the long tails that are often covered in a thick coat of wool get pretty dirty, which can be unsanitary and unhygienic for the sheep.

The dent on her left back side is where the lamb used to be. The bulge is also a pretty good indicator to the farmer how many lambs the ewe is pregnant with. 

This St Paddy's day baby was bigger than the twin lambs in the neighbouring pen because its mother had previously given birth. The neighbor ewe was only a year old and this was her first birth so the babies were much smaller. 

Born on St Paddy's Day! A real Irish lamb! He's my #13 :)

 They eventually move out to the field and are all numbered, grouped in families, according to when they were born.

My #13 all grown up!!