Lambing - Frequently Asked Questions

What was your favourite part of lambing?
One night I went out to the barn for the midnight feeding but saw that Henry was sleeping in the caravan so I decided to work on food and water for the ewes and give him a few more minutes to sleep. I grabbed a flashlight and walked along the top of the outer wall to check on the ewes. I discovered that one had given birth while laying down and the lamb was motionless in the amniotic sack. I pulled on my surgical gloves, scrambled down a wooden pallet leaning against the wall, and pulled the lamb around to the ewe's face, breaking the sack to allow the lamb to breathe. The lamb shook its head, starting vocalizing, and I waited to make sure it was okay and the ewe was cleaning it up before moving on. As I continued around the wall I saw another ewe in labour and I could only see the nose and one hoof, but both hooves need to be present. I had my cell phone with me to call Henry but I figured I'd give it a try on my own before calling him. I ran around the wall and through the barn to reach the ewe. She started to run away but my sheep-catching lesson from Christmas came in handy and I remembered to grab a hind leg to hold her back. Thankfully she was a smaller ewe so I was able to hold her against the wall with my left hand and reach around with my right to check for the second leg. I had been curious to know what it felt like and although some people are disgusted by the thought of sticking their hand and forearm inside the birth canal, I found it fascinating. I tried a few angles but realized I wouldn't be able to get the leg without pushing the lamb back inside - not something I was about to try on my own. Just as I was about to give up and call Henry, his voice called across the barn:
"Just one hoof showing?"
"Yeah."
"Want help?"
"Yeah."
He came over and I held the ewe while he pushed the lamb in and then pulled it back out properly. A night like that would have been completely normal for him - he's done this hundreds of times - but for me, it was unforgettable. Midnight... the world is dark and quiet... and a little life takes its first breath. It's a good feeling to know that what you're doing actually means something to someone, even if that "someone" is a sheep.

What do you miss about the farm?
Being outside all day.
The lambs.
The sounds.
The work.
The freedom.
Learning something new every day.
Seeing my friends in Eastbourne.

What kinds of things did you do?
In addition to the ongoing tasks of feeding orphans, mucking pens, checking ewes, and topping up food and water, Henry gave me opportunities to try new tasks, even though I so obviously lacked the experience to do things quickly or skillfully. I can now say I've docked a couple of tails, castrated one lamb (sorry little guy!), driven the quad, and tagged a few sheep (just look for the over-sized, messy numbers - sheep squirm around way too much!). I watched and learned about other details of lambing, but those are the things I actually tried first-hand.

Did you smuggle a lamb home in your backpack?
No, although it was tempting.

While staying at the farm I hadn't really picked up the lambs for any reason outside feeding them or moving them. During my first five minutes I realized that the sheep were skittish and not interested in bonding with humans so it was quite pointless to try to pet them (besides the fact that treating them as pets is worthy of mockery from the entire Brown family). During my final moments on the farm, I realized that the only photo of me with a lamb was with one who actually ended up dying. Although it's a great photo, it always makes me a little sad. I grabbed my camera and my favourite lamb from the latest batch of orphans and asked Henry to shoot a photo before I went back to the farm house to finish packing. When I held the lamb, it quietly tucked its head up under my chin and I was amazed by how soft the wool was! I really hadn't realized how soft they are!

As I pulled the lamb closer for a photo, I put my hand around the hind legs and got a nice little present smeared on me. I wiped it off on a bit of straw and Henry quickly captured my final, very real farm moment.

Huge thanks to:
- Henry for letting me in on lambing and putting up with my endless curiousity.
- Margaret for being such a gracious hostess.
- Richard for making me laugh by mocking my floral wellies.
- Clayton and Isobel for suggesting I contact their friends at Chalk Farm - another quirky dream has been fulfilled!

Experiencing life on a farm during lambing season was unforgettable and something I'll always be grateful for.