One Rosie Spring Day

One Spring morning, Rosie went into labor. I regretted Rosie’s timing. An agriculture conference took my husband and most of the county’s vets out of commission for the day, leaving me as resident EWE OB GYN.

Rosie was no ordinary sheep since she was the only ewe on Skye Moor Farm with a name. With her fuzzy Merino head and gentle nature, she was a beloved favorite.

Pulling on plastic gloves, I hustled to the barn as I studied my sheep bible: Raising Sheep the Modern Way. I knew I was the big pretender; I had never pulled a lamb before.

My gloved fingers clumsily turned the pages. Chapter eight showed 12 possible positions and the solutions for pulling lambs. The question was whether a 30-something-music-teacher-mom could “Identify the lamb’s legs, and position“ and then “make sure that the legs you feel belong to the same lamb.”

I looked at Rosie. Was she looking at me? Hard to tell since her eyes were hidden by a clump of fuzz. Well, she wasn’t running and hiding like our North Country Cheviots do. Nice Rosie. Good Rosie.

I reluctantly laid aside my book, clenching and unclenching my hands. Why was she taking so long? At last I made the approach. Nice Rosie. Good Rosie.

It soon became evident that Rosie wasn’t going to stand still for any invasive procedures by a less-than-confident-first-time-midwife. I wimped out. Disappointed, I went inside to call my husband for advice. While we speculated how long she’d been laboring, I watched Rosie through the glass door and noticed the emergence of dark little hooves. Nice Rosie. Good Rosie.

I ran out the door to find Rosie had dropped not one, but two lambs. They looked weak. Were they breathing? I tickled their noses with a piece of straw; but the book advised swinging them around to stimulate breathing. Two cautions followed: Make sure that you have a good grip on the lamb to avoid throwing it out of the barn, and make sure that its head will clear the ground and all obstacles! The author seemed to know her audience. Was she making fun of me?

I picked up one lamb by the front legs and swung it in a circle as if twirling one of my kids. I set him down on the damp grass. Rosie began cleaning him as I repeated the process with his sister. Success! My lambies were breathing and mom was taking over. Nice Rosie. Good Rosie.

Now I, too, could breathe easily. At that moment my little farm success seemed an unparalleled accomplishment. Bring on the world; my sheep are alive! I surveyed the fields. No other expectant ewes were ready for me, but I could see my 80-year-old aunt and my toddler standing motionless at the family room window as if watching a big screen TV. An entertaining show for all ages, I suppose.

With great strides I loped out of the fenced pasture and opened the front door to find my eager audience. Aunt Rae, a one-time farm girl herself, giggled and said, “You’re more woman than I.”

Perhaps a Spring challenge calls you. In this season of growth, try something new. We aren’t always completely successful, but there’s something glorious in the challenge. Outside your window, a confidence-builder awaits you and your children. Breathe deeply, and take it on!

Copyright Ann Stewart 2004
Used by permission
No reprint without author’s permission.

Please comment by contacting Ann.