The Kind of Mom I Want to Be

This afternoon I went out to the barn to check on our momma goats and their Fab 4 kids.  I needed a dose of cuteness.  The moms, tucked safely into our two kidding pens, were doing exactly what I expected to see them doing:  loving on their kids.  Cricket and Ivy are great experienced mommas, and they know exactly what to do with their babies. (We built the kidding pens a couple years ago to provide mom and babies some time away from the herd to bond and establish nursing while accessing free and plentiful food without competition.  The pens also give us a chance to monitor mom and kid health for a few days.)

While I was out there, I decided to check in on the ladies in the barn and noticed that Astrid, a first time momma expected to kid any day, was in active labor.  We only have two kidding pens, and they were both in use, so after a quick conference with my two Sapplings, we decided that Cricket could easily handle her kids in the barn.  She is, after all, the one all the other momma goats count on to help with childcare when they are grazing.  She'll fiercely defend anyone's kid from a perceived threat, and her girls were already thriving after just one day in the kidding pen.  So we moved Cricket and Opal and Bea to the barn and moved a very panicky Astrid to the empty kidding pen.

Once we got her settled, I went back into the house to give her some time.  When I returned an hour later it was to find Astrid really distressed.  Labor is HARD and PAINFUL, even when you are goat.  Especially when you are a goat, maybe, because you have no idea what's going on and there's nobody to give you ice chips and rub your feet.  Astrid was struggling.  I felt so bad for her, and despite my best efforts to calm her, I knew she just had to go through it.  That's when Ivy poked her head through the little crack that separates the two pens and "talked" to Astrid.  I don't know what she said, but Astrid calmed after that for a bit.

When Kid #1 (Thunder) started crowning, it was clear that he was REALLY big.  Strain as she might, this guy was NOT moving.  Thankfully, he was positioned correctly and I was able to use a little pull and the force of gravity to assist in his birth.  His teeny brother Kid #2 (Storm) appeared shortly after with no issue.  As I vigorously rubbed down the kids to get them clean and dry and breathing, poor Astrid just stood there, forlorn.  Can you imagine?  WHAT THE HECK ARE THESE THINGS THAT JUST CAME OUT OF ME?!?  WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THEM?  I would have been forlorn too.

When you have farm animals, one of the first things you want to do with new babies is get colostrum in them.  This life-giving substance is so important to newborns.  Sometimes with new moms they are so freaked out that getting a kid to nurse is a fight.  Sometimes you have to hold the mom and force her to let the kids eat.  Sometimes the kids are too weak and can't latch on.  Sometimes they are stupid and can't find the teat.  There's a lot to worry about, especially with new moms.

So there I am, sitting on the floor of the kidding pen, babies just getting dry and alert enough to stand, trying to get Astrid to agree to let them nurse.  She's nervous, and does NOT want me to put those things under her.  The babies are dumb and weak, which means that not only are they not finding the teat, but they can't even hold themselves up to look properly.  We've got the makings for a super frustrating moment. 

Then Ivy did that thing again.

She put her nose into the crack separating the pens and she "talked" to Astrid.

I don't know what she said, but here's what I saw: Astrid calmed down.  She started licking her babies.  She let both of them nurse.  She started momming.

I've honestly never seen anything like it. 

I know I'm a weirdo, but at that moment I totally thought of all the moms in my life who have talked me out of being crazy.  The moms who were there for me during the newborn phase.  And the ones who talked me through scary medical stuff.  And the ones who stood with me during life's most stressful moments. Those moms were with me.  Not judging.  Not comparing.  Just present and talking.

I'll admit I've had moments where I was the judgy mom.  I'm not proud of those moments.  I remember thinking that *my* kid would never...whatever the thing is.  Or that my kid was a better...whatever.  In those moments I isolated myself and my kids, and we lost out.  We were the family standing there scared and alone and not knowing how the heck to do the next thing.

I'm glad those moments didn't last long.  I'm glad I had moms who loved me and my kids anyway and were there for us anyway.  And I'm glad they showed me how much nicer it is to be a part of a whole tribe of moms who support and care for each other.

I want to be the kind of mom Cricket is--the mom other moms trust with their precious treasure.

I want to be the kind of mom Ivy is--the mom who quietly and patiently advises and coaches without judging.

And I want to be the kind of mom Astrid is--the one who has no idea what the heck is going on, but has a tribe of strong and powerful women she knows she can trust and rely on.

Cheers to you, awesome moms!  I'm glad you are part of my tribe.