A Tough Lesson
Remember those little piglets we were so pumped about? I knew that Pinky was getting close to farrowing and every day I went outside and squeezed her teats multiple times like a lunatic. About a week before she actually farrowed, she was showing clear signs of nesting. She was redecorating her enclosure, her belly was sagging, and she displayed a general level of discomfort. We separated her from the boys and built her a nice little "bed" where she could comfortably give birth without being cold and wet. Over the next several days, I put my YouTube pig breeders certification to use and remembered that once you were able to squeeze milk from the pig's teats it was go time. Naturally, I became consumed. I squeeze that poor pigs teats no less that 25 times a day.
The morning of Pinky's farrowing, I went out to once again check those teats before school started and low and behold MILK! I literally started screaming "MILK! MILK! She as milk." No one was around but me and the pigs, but I was HYPE. Well, Danny left to go on a COVID style bachelor party (WE GOT ENGAGED) and at 4pm on the dot, Pinky was very clearly in labor. She pushed her first baby out and I was able to watch the whole process. It was magical. I stood back and watched in aw as this big that we bred on our little homestead gave birth. That little piglet was the perfect mixture of Pinky and Bert. It was small and kind of weird-looking, but I had no clue what a baby pig was supposed to look like...did I mention that I was HYPE?!
I didn't know how many piglets were coming, it was dark, and I had zero help. I frantically called my neighbor who agreed to be on standby and she and her husband rushed over with a bottle of wine. Little did we know, there's no time for wine drinking when your pig is in labor. We put on some pig birthing jams, rubbed Pinky's belly and waited. She delivered 2 more perfect little babies. My neighbor caught one mid-air as Pinky just let it fall from her womb while she walked in circles and I pulled one out that was a little stuck along with Pinky's placenta. It was gloriously disgusting. I felt like a badass farm chic. Several minutes, then an hour or so passed, and no more piglets. We were sure she was done, we helped the babies latch on to mama, squealed at how cute they were, and of course I celebrated with a cold Coors Light by the bonfire.
The neighbors headed home and there I was with my three little pigs. I sat with Pinky for another hour or so and as the coyotes started to howl in the distance I decided to head in. I woke up in the middle of the night, like a new mom, and walked the babies out to Pinky so they could nurse. To my surprise, there was another piglet. This pig was longer alive and Pinky knew it. She had it neatly tucked away behind her and didn't attempt to mother it. I'm not sure if it was stillborn, or died during the birthing process. I beat myself up over whether I should have stayed with her longer, but that fact of the matter was that the pig was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. I continued to focus on the piglets that had made it. It became obvious that the first piglet, the one that looked a little weird, was less developed than the other two. It was having a hard time suckling and had a strange color.
Of course, I had to do everything I could to save this piglet. Y'all I milk Pinky. I milked the freakin' pig. I went out there and every time the other two ate, I milked Pinky into a small bowl, sucked it up with a syringe, and tried to feed the struggling piglet. After 2 very long days of me trying to feed that poor baby after 3 hours, it took a trip to the "forever farm". I was down to 2 piglets. I watched them like a hawk. Danny finally came home and Pinky was not having it. She charged him anytime he went hear her or the piglets. I on the other hand, was literally laying in the nest snuggling Pinky while we cared for her new babies. It was such an amazing experience, but I was exhausted. I was terrified to take my eyes off of Pinky for fear that she would smother the piglets.
After a few days, we finally got comfortable leaving her alone for short periods of time and eventually, we would only bring the babies in a night. I had mixed feelings about leaving them unsupervised, they were so small, Pinky was a first-time mom, it was cold, it was rainy. I had a whole list. However, Pinky wanted her babies near her and they were crying out for their mama more and more. She did great for a day or two and I started to let my guard down. I went to check on the babies, just as I did 100 times a day and I noticed Pinky had somehow lifted the floor that we had created for her. The floor was held down with cinderblocks, straw, and all the things. The babies were gone, she had wriggled them under the floor with her and when she came out they stayed in. She wedged herself under it for some god-forsaken reason and took those sweet precious babies with her.
I WAS DONE. I was absolutely beside myself. I ran behind the garage fell to my knees and whaled. I worked so hard for so many weeks spending countless hours bonding with Pinky. I had heard terrible stories about things like this happening, but I thought we were out of the woods. I went through every scenario. I picked apart every single move I had made since those piglets entered the world and nothing I could do was going to bring those piglets back. But you know what, I had to pull myself up by my bootstraps and finish the evening chores because the reality is that what happened to me is just that, the harsh reality of farming. We will bring animals on to the homestead, we will love them, we will breed them, some will go to new homes, some will fill our bellies, and some will make the journey to the "forever farm". Mistakes will be made and miracles will happen. At the end of the day, my Pinky girl is healthy and happy, and it mattered. We will have another chance and we will all be ready.
