Oh Baby... Part 2

I promised the rest of the story, and so here we go! For those of you that receive my blog via email, I apologize if you did not receive Part 1. I had put a stop on the email feed while I adjusted some settings on my postings, and forgot to restart the emails! If you'd like to read Part 1, simply click on my blog address and check 'er out :)

My body had had enough yesterday morning at around 5:00 a.m., so I left Marin asleep in the barn and ventured into the house to rouse Kevin from his sleep. "Could you take over for a couple of hours?" I asked, and of course, he was more than willing. He felt bad that I was the one carrying the burden of the night shift, but I really needed him in the house helping the kids get to bed and getting his own rest, knowing I'd need someone rested to take over for me the next day! We swapped places, and before I knew it, Kevin was standing at the foot of the bed with tears in his eyes. I glanced at the clock, which read 7:00, and said, "What happened? Did we lose him?" It's not often that we see our giant of a man brought to tears and I was alarmed. Kevin proceeded to tell me that although the baby was still alive, he was not sucking off of the bottle and was so limp and floppy when he was sleeping, that Kev was afraid we were, indeed, losing him. We called the vet.

Kevin put the trailer on the truck while I showered, and we set off with Bows in the trailer and the foal on my lap. It's not every day that you see a horse standing up on the seat of a truck bench, or asleep on it's owner's lap, for that matter! Poor little baby was so exhausted from lack of nutrition and the obvious stress of a night spent with a nervous mom and owner prodding him with bottles and bowls and all sorts of activity. By the time we reached the animal hospital, Bows was throwing a fit in the trailer... you would have thought we had a clydesdale in there, with all the racket, instead of a 30" miniature mare! One universal element, amongst all of God's creatures, is the passion of a mother's love for her newborn. We were hearing AND seeing (never thought a small mare like that could rock the trailer) that passion in it's full form!

Amidst the racket and impatience of Bows, quite the opposite could describe the INACTIVITY of the foal. I lifted him up off of my lap to stand him up and keep him alert, but he simply collapsed on my lap, as if dead. The peace I had been blessed with all night and morning, an assurance from Heavenly Father that everything was going to be okay, whether or not we had a live colt to raise and enjoy, was abruptly gone at the sight of his seemingly lifeless body. I whipped him up in my arms and bailed out of that truck in an instant, calling for Kevin to hurry and get me in the examination room, asap. The door to the horse exam room opened up and we hurried in. I gave the foal to Kevin and listened as the doctor gave us a grim prognosis. Because the baby was so comatose and unresponsive, the doc told us that there was pretty much a 95% to 100% chance he wouldn't make it, no matter what we did to preserve his life. I nodded my head, with tears in my eyes, looked over to Kevin and put my hand under the foal's chin. That's when it happened...

The foal jerked his head up, alert as a rooster at the crack of dawn, stretched his legs under him (he was still in Kevin's arms!) and seemed to be telling us, "Hold on a minute... I can hear you and I want to live!" The doctor was astonished, as were Kevin and I. Kev set him down on the cement floor of the exam room and the little colt proceeded to check out his surroundings, found his mother's teat and started nursing. Holy Shmoly! At this point, the doc went from ready to pull the plug, to a brand new prognosis of, "Maybe this colt isn't as bad off as I thought. If he's alert and healthy, and not sick, as I first thought, I think he'll make it." We gave the go-ahead for a plasma transfusion to ensure a full antibody count in his blood and left the little guy and his mother in a stall at the animal hospital. The plasma for the transfusion had to be of the equine variety, which is not easy to come by, but the vet found some in Ogden, and set off to get it. Before the doctor left, however, he wanted to make sure a transfusion was absolutely necessary, considering the cost. He did a blood test to check the antibody levels in the foal's blood, and we were all pleased to find that our efforts in milking the colostrum from Bows and bottle feeding it to the baby were not in vain. He had at least partial antibody protection in his blood stream from our efforts, but a 50% chance of living healthy just wasn't enough assurance for us. We wanted him to have the best start possible and okayed the transfusion. Kevin and I went home, crashed on the bed for a moment, and awaited a call from the doctor.

Five hours and five hundred dollars later, we brought the horses home. Mom and baby are doing fine and spent the night on their own! What a miracle... Miracle? Sounds like a good name for the newest member of our Funny Farm Family :)

Photos of Baby Bottle Feeding

To Milk a Horse?!

I would have never even thought about the prospect of milking a horse, let alone a miniature one with miniscule teats, but that just goes to prove that life is FULL of things that I've never even thought of! Our newest addition to the Funny Farm, a little colt out of our mini mare, Bows, had a traumatic first day... and so did the owners!

We were thrilled to find that our concerns about a possibly complicated delivery, with this first time mother, were unfounded. Bows delivered her foal with no assistance (we didn't know she was even doing it) and proved to be a natural little mother. Unfortunately, her teats are small and the baby couldn't wrap his little tongue around them. It wasn't until midday that we realized that he wasn't getting latched on and getting the colostrum he so desperately needs to ward off infection. Baby horses get no immunity from placental transfer; only through passive transfer through colostrum. A foal who receives no immunoglobulins antibodies has a 75% chance of falling ill; one who receives partial antibodies still suffers a 50% chance.

Realizing the importance of this colostrum, I worked out a way to extract it from Bows, a process that she was not particularly fond of. The foal suckled off a bottle for a time, and then we tried bucket feeding, which seemed like the best way to go... until we tried it the next time 'round. I started bottle feeding the baby at about 4:00 p.m. and continued on every 15 to 40 minutes until 5:00 a.m. this morning. We threw a couple of bean bags down on the floor of the horse shelter and I settled in for a night of milking, feeding and keeping warm baby. Marin stayed the night with me and was able to sleep... lucky girl! It was windy and chilly and a bit on the uncomfortable side, but what else could we do? My discomfort through the night was a whole lot less than the discomfort we would feel upon finding our darling colt dead in the morning. It was worth it.

The rest of the story is coming in the next post...

Thoughts on Memorial Day

Since visiting the cemetary today to honor our deceased loved ones, I've been rolling this question around in my mind: "Where will WE be buried and should we reserve a spot right now?" I told Kevin that it would probably be an act of kindness to our kids and other family members if we reserved us a space at the Bountiful Cemetary, where my parents have plots, and I'm assuming Kevin's parents will, as well. Then our kids can honor US in a more timely and efficient manner. How's that for control freak? Planning out my children's Memorial Day visitations for them, so they don't have to be inconvenienced?! I need help, I'm afraid... serious help. Kevin says that just as a "getcha back" after we're deceased, kind of thing, we should buy plots as far away as possible and make them DRIVE to see us... we'll show them, hmm? Actually, that would probably only serve to make our grave stones the weediest and least visited of any in the cemetary. People would pass by our markers and say, "Poor folks with the weird last name... No one loves them or even takes care of their graves!" I guess we'll just have to wait a few more years and see where we end up living the majority of our time together. Bountiful will always be home (Woods Cross for my hubby), so we can't go wrong putting in our reservation there, but if we end up living out the rest of our lives in Beaver Dam, it might be fitting to save us a spot here. After all, the Beaver Dam cemetary is only about three hundred feet from our back door!

Posted are a few pictures from our cemetary visit today. It was nice to be with family and share stories of Grandma and Grandpa Francis, Aunt Viv and Matt Warner, my cousin. After my folks and Mike & Carolyn treated us all to lunch at Taco Time, Kev and I, with the kids (minus Vanessa who was camping with a friend) went to the van Uitert's house in WX, spent a few hours visiting there and enjoyed a nice barbequed dinner of hamburgers and hot dogs with all the fixins. It was a beautiful day to spend with our families and remember, with fondness, the extraordinary lives of our loved ones.

The Cat Who Loves Watermelon?!

This is our cat, Dusty, who apparently loves watermelon... and smores! He just couldn't stay away from the food tonight. I've never had a cat who wanted fruit or marshmallows, for goodness sake! Silly kitty!

It's a Boy!

At approximately eleven o'clock a.m., we were blessed with a little colt from our mare, Maggie! Of course, we missed the birth... again. Third time we've missed it, but we're just glad she never has any complications. This means that our other little mare should be due any day, now, since I bred them both in the same week. Let's hope Bows has the same success!

Our good friends, Annie and Ben, came over today with all of their cute kids. We roasted hot dogs and smores over the fire, ate watermelon, played with the animals, and just had a good time chatting. Dayton, Christian and Jesse went exploring down by the creek, while the others had fun with the kittens and playing on the trampoline. The first half of the day was rainy, but the last half was absolutely beautiful, as you can see from the pictures :)

Tomorrow is Memorial Day and time to visit the graves of our loved ones and spend time with our family down in Bountiful. Vanessa has been camping with a friend all weekend. We've sure missed her and are excited to see her beautiful face tomorrow when she finally gets home!

Kitty to Plant?

One of our six kittens found himself inside of this plant container... awww... cute!

Let the Castration Begin!

How was that for an attention grabbing title for this blog posting? Today was the big day for Geoffrey, our "used to be" a stud, mini horse. The vet came out and gave him the old snip and squeeze... poor guy! Geoffrey, that is. The vet couldn't be called "poor" after the awesome income he made off of the van Uitert family and their animals this day. All seven horses received their shots and wormings, as well as a few exams for the mares who are due to deliver in the next few weeks. Geoffrey's castration (or gelding) was the most interesting event of the visit, though. I was surprised that the vet left the incisions completely open... no swabbing out or stitching up, or anything. It makes sense that he didn't want to stitch up any infection that, no doubt, crept in at this non-sterile location, but still, I thought he'd do SOMETHING for the open incisions. He simply sprayed the area with fly spray, which had to feel quite splendid on Geoffrey's recently deflated ego... NOT! We'll be training him and working him everyday for the next week or two to keep the swelling down and to keep him moving. He already seemed a little mellower, which we were not expecting. Then again, waking up to find excruciating pain in the nether regions might just have a mellowing effect on a guy... ya think?

The Happiness Factor

A factor is defined as something that actively contributes to a result or accomplishment. The results or accomplishments of THIS day were few, and those that we did have were lack luster and unsatisfactory. We saddled up a horse, in the hopes of riding a bit, only to find that she was on pins and needles (for some unexplainable horse psychology reason...) and not in the right temperament to ride. I tried to take Geoffrey out of his pen to switch him over to another, and he was so wild, rearing up at me (all 37 inches of him...but still...) and being a total stinker, that I put him right back in the same corral and waited for Kevin to get done working. My eyelids had a hard time staying open, today, as well. I seriously could have slept ALL day, I was so tired. Kevin DID get the swamp cooler hooked up, however, and that WAS an accomplishment... so kudos to Kevin. Where did the word kudos come from, anyway... hmm...?

So, what happened today? I did not find any joy in working outside, driving in the car, sleeping, playing with the animals, reminding kids to do school work, etc. I DID have about 20 minutes of fun playing dodgeball with the girls in our stake, but as soon as we were outta there... you guessed it... gone. Where was the happiness factor that makes all of my accomplishments for the day more worthwhile? It must be hiding in the closet behind that box of spare socks, or perhaps IT took the vacation to Hawaii that I've been dreaming about for months! Wherever it is... it's not here with me and I NEED it back. Without it, I can't seem to get anything done, or at least not done well, and I am, quite simply, a pill to be around. I'm not sure how anyone in my family can stand to be around me... I know I can't stand to be around me, so it must be bad. At least my family members can get away from me - I don't have it that easy!

Ah well... The old adage of "tomorrow is a new day" is true, I suppose, and perhaps if I make myself attractive enough, my happiness factor will come back to me and stay for good... or at least for awhile. In the meantime, my kids are talking about boogers, my dog has terribly gruesome gas, and my room looks like it was visited by a laundry-barfing monster who puked all over the place.

Cheers!

Anyone Have a Soapbox I Can Borrow?

After taking the kids to yet another stupid movie, I can now say that I am officially dumber than I was BEFORE we partook of Hollywood's idiotic splendor. This is, seriously, the third dumb movie in a row that we have subjected ourselves to. The kids are always more forgiving and easier to please, but I, on the other hand, feel jipped, and depending on the movie... violated! ;P
The movie we watched tonight, actually, did not tick me off in the way that the previous two did, but did leave me with regrets over time wasted and brain cells sacrificed...

I remember one of my good friend's mothers being such a killjoy after every movie their family saw, and I recall thinking that she was such a scroogey stoogey... either the acting was poor, the effects completely unbelievable, the language coarse, or the content offensive. Pooh pooh! She simply sucked the fun out of ANY movie they saw. Well, I can now say that I completely understand her scroogey stoogey little old heart and either owe her a great apology (if even only in my mind... she never knew I thought she was the fun-sucker of all time) or owe myself a good kick in the pants for becoming the spitting image of Senorita Killjoy.

I'll take that soapbox now, if you please... Can everyone see me? Does my voice carry sufficiently? Emmm hmmm hmmm.... Attention Hollywood:

We the people of the van Uitert family wish to voice our grievances over your gross misrepresentation of any form or likeness of comedic entertainment, and formally hold you responsible for the early demise of several potentially successful brain cells, lost in the process of viewing many of your productions and condemn you for the rape and pillage of our wallets, time and intelligence! Okay, we the people is really just ME, but I am certainly capable of expressing myself adequately enough FOR the whole family. Ha ha... me longwinded? Never....

(Am I sucking the fun in an efficient and impressive manner? I'm doing my darnedest...)

Signing off...

Senorita Killjoy
Master Fun-Sucker

Simply the Sabbath

Sundays are a little tough for me, lately. I want to keep the commandments and "keep the Sabbath Day holy" but am not ever really sure about just how to do that, other than attending church and possibly visiting neighbors and/or family. We are fairly consistent about not watching tv and listening to music other than the Sunday variety, but since our church block ends at noon (for the rest of our lives), we are left with a HUGE chunk of Sunday time to do... WHAT?! I'm starting to think we need to invite family and friends up to OUR house each Sunday for dinner, just so I can have something to plan on. I just cannot sit still for too long, and my preference would be to work outside with the animals, gardening, etc., which I am trying not to do on Sunday, since we do that EVERY day of the week. However, if I stay inside, I find myself washing dishes, laundry, sorting through junk, and all sorts of WORK... only difference is the interior location. I seriously can't see how doing the interior work is any better than doing the exterior work.

This afternoon, I really made an effort to bypass the work; I read an article out of the New Era and a couple out of the Friend, to the kids; I read from a book called "American Folklore and Legends"; I tried to fall asleep in the front room for even just a few minutes... seemed the thing to do, since Gerrit AND Kevin were passed out. The kids watched Gandhi, which I just didn't have the attention span to do, today. We walked almost a mile down to the neighbor's house to see all of his baby goats, especially the two that we witnessed being born, yesterday, and to wish his son a Happy Birthday. That killed a little time...

Pitiful, isn't it? I should LOVE Sundays, for the rest and peace that it affords, but all I truly find myself being is bored out of my mind. I find that there is only SO much reading and studying and visiting to do on Sunday. Laziness can't be anymore righteous than keeping busy... Aack!

I caved in to the lesser part, today, and moved the horses around to switch up pasture time; pulled a few weeds out of the flowerbed and fed them to the goat; and told Kev we ought to cut down the big dead tree in front of the house, which he did. We, then, set up our little fire pit/grill thing-a-majigger and roasted marshmallows, sang camp songs, and enjoyed the clear night sky. This last effort seems perfectly appropriate for the Sabbath, but I'm not so sure I could say the same for pulling weeds, moving panels, and felling a huge birch tree. The scripture that says, "The natural man is an enemy to God," or something similar to that, kept popping into my mind during Relief Society today, and again nags at my conscience this evening. I truly want to choose the better part and have some kind of enjoyable, peaceful, and Sabbath appropriate plans in the future. Suggestions, anyone?

A Few More Pics...

Earlier today, we attended the ward auction and activity day, where Dayton got to take part in the trap shoot competition. They shot clay pigeons and goose eggs above the river - what a blast! Here's a few more photos of Brad's visit, as well.

The "Almost" Rattlesnake Round-up

Kevin's brother, Brad, and his darling children came up for a visit this afternoon. While Vanessa and Marin entertained the kids on the trampoline, Kevin and I took Brad on a tour of the thriving metropolis of Beaver Dam.

Our first stop was to a neighbor's house to show Brad their huge draft horse... one of the biggest horses I've ever seen. Next, we thought we'd show him Cutler Dam Power Station, the Bear River, and some of the beautiful countryside along the way. Halfway there, another neighbor waved us down and we pulled over and hopped out. Turns out, he had been trying to call us, because his goat doe was delivering her twins, the first of which was stuck with one leg and the head sticking out. Somehow, he thought we could be of assistance... his wife said, "Call Donna... I bet she'll know what to do." Prayer and instinct would have been my only solutions, having never delivered goat kids before. We stopped by just AFTER he pulled the first one out, but he was afraid he had broken it's neck and/or legs in the process. The poor little thing was pretty worn out, but didn't appear to have any broken body parts, seeing as it could still hold it's head up and was attempting to stand. It's sluggishness, however, brought it very limited attention from it's mother, so it may turn out to be a bummer kid, anyway. (Bummer means that the mother rejects it and it will be necessary to bottle feed and hand raise the kid until it is weaned.) I proceeded to check out the baby, testing it's legs for reflex responses, cleaning off a little of the snot-like, yellow mucous hanging all over it, and listening to it breathe to see if there was possibly some esophageal damage. All in all, I'd say he was in good shape for being pulled out with the intensity and strength that was required to do the job. I helped a neighbor, last year, deliver her two puppies, and the first didn't make it through the delivery. She died because we couldn't get her out fast enough, and when the doctor made it over to help, he ended up breaking the neck pulling her out. Very distressing. I fully understood the stress this fine neighbor had in delivering that first kid. Complications are no fun and we all hope we don't have any in delivering babies! Kevin and Brad were standing by while our neighbor's son tried to help the mama deliver kid #2, and were able to witness the whole process. I think Kevin was trying to distract the mother, and even joked that he offered her some ice chips to suck on during the delivery. Funny guy! Not a bad Beaver Dam country tour, by any means...

Onward and upward to Cutler Dam... We took the little dirt road that runs along the river and showed him where the scout camp is, the better fishing areas, and a neighbor's property (hundreds of acres) in the river bottoms. On our way back out, Kevin thought he ran over a snake. He stopped the truck and we jumped out to see. Much to our surprise, we missed it completely, and were able to check out this fairly good sized reptile crossing the road. My first thoughts were to pick it up and take it back for the kids to see, but upon closer inspection, the head looked too wide, and it's demeanor, too aggressive. Even though it had no rattler on the tip of it's tail, it did have a decidedly aggressive "coil up and strike" attitude, and I just couldn't be sure that it wasn't a venomous variety. It looked a lot like the bullsnakes and gopher snakes we have caught in the past, but I've never seen one so aggressive. This snake was a good two to three feet in length and about an inch and a half in diameter. If we minus the "rattle"... it was an "almost" Rattlesnake Round-up finale to our Beaver Dam tour. How exciting is that? I was a little disappointed, later this evening, to find that the pictures online really DID resemble just a gopher/bullsnake, and we probably would have been fine to grab it. However, when in doubt, stay a good distance out, right? Right... According to this online source, the gopher/bullsnakes can flatten out their heads and imitate a rattler to scare off predators. It worked :)

The posted pictures are of Max, Sadie and Audra on the trampoline, walking and riding on Banner, and a little interaction between Brad, Sadie and the goat kids. Check out Sadie's face with those goats! She's NOT a fan... However, her brother helped me milk Isabella, brush Banner and even walk him back to his corral. Way to go, Max! And thanks for coming up, Brad... it was great to see you all!

My Life as the Energizer Bunny...

I just keep going and going and going... minus the long ears and fluffy tail! Today was a never-ending sort of day. I am so pooped and yet am afraid to go to bed, because I know that the morning will come too soon and it will start all over again!

Dinner was for twelve tonight (the kids's friends were over) and I made fettucine with meat sauce, corn, brownies w/ice cream for dessert, and cupcakes for the bakesale tomorrow. Dayton and I built another goat pen and two more horse corrals (reconfigured the panels into new locations). I redid the dog run two nights ago and expanded it quite a bit. Now, we just have to cut down the big dead tree in front of the house, till in a few flowerbeds, possibly till up the OLD horse corral for a nice big garden spot, somehow kill the sticker weeds, keep the cats out of the raised garden beds (they keep digging up my strawberry starts), figure out a better sprinkler system, and ready the back of the pasture for post holes to be augered in the morning. Hmm... did I mention the laundry, dishes, and other 3/4 of the house that still needs cleaning? Not enough time in the day, I'm afraid, but I'm doing the best I can. I've even got the sunburn to prove it... (I HAVE to remember to put the sunscreen on! I'll be a raisin in a few years if I don't!)

True Love I Knew At Once

In the wee morning hours, before taking Gerrit to his 6:00 a.m. Driver's Ed class, I was reflecting on the natural order of events involving children separating from their dependence on their parents. In doing so, I felt happiness, because I know it's the way things are supposed to be, and what is parenting and family life for, if not to raise healthy, independent, future adults? On the flip side, I felt a little melancholy at the loss of the parent/child relationship as I've known it thus far, and wrote a little something to encapsulate my emotions.

True Love I Knew At Once
by Donna van Uitert
May 13, 2009 @ 5:41 a.m.

Sixteen years in life's embrace
True love I knew at once
When God extended me His grace
And you, my son, were born.

The face of Heaven's purest light
To you our Lord bestowed
And almost perfect in my sight
My eyes beheld my child.

A tear, a smile, a broken heart
The good amongst the bad
With me you share the smallest part
Our separate lives defined.

Did ever once to me you share
The secrets held within?
It now would seem you do not dare
Perhaps, you never did.

I miss you, oh, my little one
Come back to me in time
You are my moon and midday sun
On others now you shine.

The time is spent for me I fear
No longer I your choice
But you I always will hold dear
Forever, you'll be mine.

Now, I know this may sound a little depressing, but truly, it is an honest depiction of the struggle I feel between happiness and sadness in watching my children grow up and move on. It's a beautiful process, I would say, but nonetheless a real challenge for me. Any of you reading, who have already sent your children off to live their lives on their own, and build their own families, may understand the jumble of mixed emotions I am feeling. My oldest is only sixteen, but in this last year, the gap of separating from the whole and becoming more of an individual has vastly widened. It is very EXCITING to watch it happen, but I think I would be remiss in saying that it has all been smooth sailing for this here Momma Hen, who isn't quite ready to watch the chicks venture out of the coop on their own! Ah well... ready or not... it's happening! Wish me luck... :^)

Saturday with the van Uiterts, Rapps and Madsens

Here are a few pictures that my sweet sister-in-law, Kelli, took from their visit with us last Saturday :)