I’ve been dreading this moment since the goat adventure took hold of my life. Not only losing a goat but losing a Dam – a mamma goat – due to a rough labor. For a goat herder, it’s what nightmares are made of. When I read of similar stories, I would try to put myself in that position…it made my heart hurt just thinking of it. I couldn’t imagine enduring that sort of pain. And the Guilt.
Farm life isn’t for the faint of heart. I’ve known this. I grew up on a farm…. I’ve witnessed life and death since a young age. The idea of a fairy tale farm life has never been an image carved out for me. I know better. I could list all of the miracles I’ve seen on a farm. And I could list all of the sadness and heartache I’ve endured because of farm life. But I’m no different than anyone else who has experienced life on the farm with livestock. I’m no different from anyone who raises any type of living being. Because with it comes life as well as death – there is no escaping that reality. This isn’t to try to convince anyone of what this lifestyle brings. It’s not to prove who’s right and who’s wrong when it comes to things like animal welfare, animal rights, etc. Instead, this is for those who already know what I’m talking about. Those who already live it, struggle with it, rejoice in it and understand it.
The day has been replaying in my mind like a rerun of horror movies. There was struggle, hope, defeat, blood, tears, and I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some cuss words thrown in there. It started with me laughing at one of my favorite does. How she handled pregnancy like a pro…eating hay while she started pushing for labor. What a champ. The moment I saw only one leg making its entry into the world, I knew intervention was needed. For those who aren’t aware, you should see two front legs and a nose in the middle…almost like the baby is diving into the new world. No big deal, I’ll see what I can feel, call for enforcements and we’ll get the show on the road… we’ve done this before.
Fast forward 15 hours later. It’s 4am and I’m lying on the barn floor. Apologizing profusely to a lifeless goat. Thanking her for the life she gave this world while she was here. Loud cries. Sobs. The kind that hurt your chest and take your breath away. Telling her only baby that made it that her mamma gave her life and did everything she was supposed to do. Just moments before, I was kissing Paris on the forehead, thanking her, loving her and praying to God that if this is supposed to be her time, to do it quickly. This is farm life. I hurt – My heart. My body after hours of awkward positions during her labor, attempting to breath life into her 2 limp babies, carrying her to the truck and into the operating room with the vet. My head from the crying, the split second decision making, the trauma. Hearing the vet say this doesn’t look good. Those words echoing as my eyes start to swell and the wave of fear spreads over my body. What now? Can we please just fast forward to tomorrow…to next week. I don’t know if I can do this.
This is the life I chose.
I’ve had some time to ponder and think about the choice of this lifestyle. Is it because it was instilled upon me from a young age? Or is it something more than that? It certainly isn’t for riches, fame or status. It isn’t for power. No one holds power over life. It will come and go as it pleases. To be truthful, it feels like a calling. Almost as if it were not an option…that if I tried to hide from it, I would feel empty and lost. I can’t imagine that I am the only one who feels this way. But isn’t it interesting how so many are quick to judge those who choose this life. I’ve seen the arguments and hurtful comments to those who choose animal husbandry as their calling, whether it be personal or professional. It seems there is a fine line. And it’s one that I struggle to understand. Let me explain a little more.
I raise dairy goats. There are a multitude of reasons why. No, it’s not because I want to feed the world farmer style. No, it’s not because I’m trying to make a quick buck. To be truthful, I don’t recall the exact reasons for getting into it. It did start with a conversation about Goat Milk Soap. I had just moved to my grandparents’ farm. I have loved animals all my life, but never had any experiences with goats. I had conversations with my mother about making goat milk soap someday and I suppose it was brought up that my love for animals could be combined with my desire to be an entrepreneur. At the time of bringing goats into my life, I was in my early to mid 20’s. I was feeling a bit lost… not entirely sure what I was wanting from life or even more so, what was intended for me.
I had thought about it for awhile… At the time, I had a full time job that I didn’t get much satisfaction from (although fortunately for me, that changed shortly after I started my next job). Satisfaction. Fulfillment. Purpose. It’s what I craved. I was constantly searching for something that would fill that gap. That’s when 2 little goats entered my life. Patsy and June. Oh what joy they brought me. My eyes fill with tears when I think about it now and how it all started. My goodness were they a handful. But I loved them so much. And I knew that if I was going to be making goat milk soap, I needed to milk goats. And as we all know (at least I hope we all know), you can’t have a lactating animal without babies.
Let’s take a moment to reflect on my thoughts about this. Babies mean breeding. Breeding means investment in time, money, emotions, research, and so much more. I have strong feelings about breeding. I’m not against it. No. But I’m not always for it either. So, I took my time researching all aspects of breeding goats. And understood that if I was going to create more of these cute little critters, they were going to be an asset to the industry and to the world. That meant investing in healthy stock that would continue to help improve the breed. I’ve never had a desire to breed anything because to be quite truthful, why bring more animals in the world when someone else is already doing it? But this wasn’t an option when it came to a dairy farm.
I also determined my values and morals early on to use as a guide in all of my decision making. Breed quality and healthy animals. Utilize my degree and previous experience to tend to said animals with the best care possible as well as the utmost respect. Honesty to myself, my animals and my customers. Know what’s right, what’s wrong, and don’t ever ever ever allow greed or jealousy to control my decisions when caring for my animals. I take all of this very serious.
When you experience loss, your mind is a jumble of emotions and thoughts. Which leads me back to 4am. The guilt weighs heavy after an experience like that. Every move and decision you made is critiqued. What did I do wrong? How do I handle this differently in the future? And the heaviest of them all – Am I doing the right thing? Is God happy with my decision to breed dairy goats… to milk them… to make goat milk soap? Is this good for the Earth?
In my normal state, I would have clear answers for these questions. Yes of course this is the right thing. You are here to tend to the animals. To care for them. We now live in a world that many of these animals would not exist without human intervention. Without a need for them, mankind would eventually let them fade into history. You give them a great life…and if they receive love the way we do, you are filling their hearts every day you interact with them. Don’t be silly. But in a state of loss, these thoughts aren’t so clear. Doubt will most likely creep in at some point.
In the grief, guilt tries every move possible to take over. And then something happens. You sit in the barn. You cuddle the newly orphaned baby. You feed it the milk you were able to get from its mamma – the colostrum that is so important for this baby to thrive. The life from her that continues on in the life of her baby. Yes the grief is still there, but life shines through. A baby doing what nature is telling it to do. Eat. Rest. Grow. Without even being told, this tiny little creature knows its purpose. Something that seems so simple begins the healing process. With life comes death, there is no escaping that reality. This is farm life. This is the life I chose.
I had been dreading this moment. I knew it would come someday. There’s no escaping it. I just wasn’t ready. I’m not sure we ever are. But in this moment, I was reminded how precious life is, how hardships bring growth and appreciation. That my responsibility to these animals is a great honor. And that I will always owe a part of my life to them. This is farm life and the life I chose.
Dedicated to my sweet Paris 3/21/2015-3/28/2021. Thank you for all that you taught me.
