March 11, 2022
Our first lamb of the season arrived this week a little earlier than usual, but we weren’t caught completely by surprise. In fact, we have gotten pretty good at spotting all the tell-tale signs of a ewe getting ready to lamb.
After weeks of looking like a pack mule with saddlebags, she will often (but not always) look less wide and more sunken as the lamb positions itself closer to the exit ramp.
Her udder usually swells as it fills with milk, a process farmers call (and only a farmer could get away with calling) “bagging up.”
A couple of hours before going into labor, a ewe will often (but not always) go off by herself to find a nice spot to give birth. Sheep are communal animals so, whenever we see one away from the flock, we definitely take note.
An hour or so before lambing she’ll start licking her lips frenetically, as if gearing up for the hours she will soon spend licking her lamb clean.
When labor begins, she’ll usually (but not always) act restless. She’ll lay down, stand up, lay down again and start stretching, clearly trying to get comfortable. Her lips will curl as she pushes and if everything goes well, the placenta emerges with just the tip of the nose sandwiched between two hooves as if the lamb is diving into this world.
Usually, everything goes smoothly, and the lamb is born within half an hour of the onset of labor.
Once on the ground, the mom will lick the lamb clean as she makes guttural sounds which the lamb will soon recognize and respond to. Within minutes of being born the lamb will stand and cry, trying to figure out how and where to nurse.
We won’t leave them alone until the lamb has had a good long nurse, and the lamb’s stomach feels warm and full. We keep them locked up together for the night just to be sure they’ve totally bonded.
Even though we have witnessed hundreds of lambs being born, it never gets old. It always (and without fail) leaves me breathlessly in love with, and in complete awe of the magic of lambing.