mud, motherhood and meaning

Yesterday, after hours of being in wet shoes with wet feet and just continuing to be on the go, I was about to have a high speed come apart.

For real.

Walking across the yard for the hundredth time, exhausted, and with a million more things to do, I scribble texted a few lines to my cousin so I would remember to get this done.

While doing so, it triggered a flood of ideas and commentary within my over-exhausted, overstimulated little human brain. Also, did you know we have, like, 60,000 thoughts a day or something? Mindblown.

Anyway back to the story at hand…is this ADHD? Good gosh I cannot accomplish a thought….

Ok, I was back and forth all day with a sick pig and her new piglets.
One kid is on a mission trip–she usually helps a ton with the chores.
One kid is, well, one. She is sort of the problem child currently. She is going on two and is showing every ounce of that. And, then there are several other age ranges, and the seventeen year old.

A couple of days ago, the oldest asked, at 4 pm, “what do I have to do so I can shower?”

“Huh? Like, shower and be all done? Like, not helping me?”

I had no clue these kids thought there is a daily clock out time? This isn’t a 9 to 5. This is our life. There is no punching out.

She helped for a few minutes, the basic tasks were completed.
I kept going.
We have chickens, including several recent hatches, ducks, pigs–at several stages of life, sheep and goats. Oh, and one bull who loves me too much in a very inappropriate manner and makes me super uncomfortable with life. (Gasp.)

I kept going. Lugging the water hose about. Carrying my feed bucket. Moving the “chicken tractor” we house the ram and buck in. I move them once or twice a day.
I, also, move the female pen daily and that one is more challenging but I do it alone typically, too.

I HATE asking for help. Will I? Yes….but not as often as I should. I prefer people offer. I prefer people want to be helpful. Does everyone enjoy watering pigs and getting muddy? No. I get that. You do not have to enjoy the task, but you can enjoy helping people and getting things done.

Ok…back to my real issue….
Yesterday was one of those really long, physically and emotionally exhausting days. As I told my cousin, I suffer from quit-austion. I am overworked, underpaid and well beyond deserving of a full night’s sleep. However, I continue.

Our Kune gilt delivered two baby girls somewhere between midnight and 5:45AM on Monday morning. I found them after sleeping through an alarm to check in at 3AM. She seemed good. The piglets were clean and dry. Moving and suckling. Seemed good. I stayed for an hour. No pushing. No grunting or straining. Mom had all signs that things were well and she was done.

She stopped getting up. She stopped wanting to eat and drink. Her teat line never “bagged up” as it should have and became red, warm to the touch and somewhat hard. I kept trying to hand express milk and would get small squirts or streams. The babies would latch and seem content. They didn’t squeal or make any noise. They would curl up and sleep by mom.

Tuesday morning, yesterday, Maple (mom) would no longer stand without me harassing her. Her underline looked miserable and was hot with red streaking. Can we call it mastitis if there doesn’t seem to be milk? Like, she has something, but definitely more inflammation than any liquid. Her fever was 106* (why is there no degree option on this computer?!). She was open mouth breathing and just failing. But, she was still letting those babies try to nurse and allowing us to hand feed her, drench her with liquids, and hand express her not-so-milky discharge.

The vet’s office prescribed antibiotics and pain medication. I sent the teen to go get it. She, also, went back to town for a watermelon which we read was basically life giving to a sick pig in the summer. She ate a tiny amount. The medications helped after a bit, but she still wasn’t acting herself.
I spent 80% of my day in that pen with Maple and her babies. Watching, worrying, petting, and reassuring all of them but no one was reassuring me. I prayed over that pig and those babies numerous times yesterday. (Not sure people would expect that from this gal.)

I fed and watered every other animal on this land. I made sure all five of my kids at home were taken care of. Did they free range most of the day? Yes. Did they share responsibility of the almost two year old? Also, yes. Did a friend come over? Again, yes. Did I chat with her grandma about everything from farming, spraying, chemical trails, fly over vaccines, narcissism, and money? Also, yes. Did the buck get out and want to “love” the Great Dane? Again, yes. Is this all in a day’s work? Yes.

But, we get tired. My body is tired. My low back, hips, and pelvis are aching constantly. Well, not constantly. Only when I stop moving.

I left briefly…..ok, for two hours, to go get some fresh goat’s milk from a friend to supplement the piglets and give Maple some extra nourishment. Ya know, if she ever chooses to help herself. This is like a husband with the man flu or a sick kid….YOU MUST HELP YOURSELF, TOO.

I came back with the goat’s milk to the Grandma back in the driveway to pick up the friend who now wanted to spend the night. Kids all over. The teen was taking out garbage. Note to self, it is in the burn area, unburned. (Eyeroll) I will get to that sometime today. This was at 6 PM. I had chores to do and piglets no one had checked on while I was gone. Back to it.

The teen did help with her sister’s typical chores. She did all the birds and watered one pen of pigs. The rest was up to me.
Oh, there is a dad. He works full time and then does extra work, too. He was not home. I, of course, said I was fine.

A couple of younger kids joined me for part of my rounds along with the baby. She was super helpful. We accomplished all our tasks. They all went inside and I went back to the pig pen. I took another round of milk for the babies and tried to get mom to drink. She was so calm and relaxed, almost unresponsive. Just hanging on for those babies. Like, girl is not feeling well but will move enough to allow those kids to suckle. She just keeps her eyes shut. She is trying to heal. Trying to be a good mama….in those moments, the exhaustion, emotionally struck. I have been going and going and going this entire month. I am tired. My body is tired. But, I keep going until I want to quit everything.

I wonder why am I doing anything of this? Am I doing it well enough? Surely, if I had done something differently she would be fine and this would have gone better. I mean, it could not possibly be that she is a first time mom, bred to a first time dad, and this just happens….it is called nature. Shit happens.

I stood out there watching her babies drink some milk and then immediately go and try to nurse from their mom. They nudge and work at those nipples. One is more persistent than the other. She is a real bully and just keeps working. She wants her mom to take care of her. She just wants her mom.

I have a niece that was diagnosed with breast cancer while pregnant recently. A surgery was performed while the baby was in utero to remove the milk duct. The cancer didn’t spread because that baby was working overtime. Sweet baby girl had severe growth restrictions prior to the diagnosis of the cancer. She did end up growing and becoming a perfectly sized, healthy baby. Delivered after her due date despite doctor’s wanting to induce her.

All I could think of in that moment last night was sweet baby M. Her will for her mother to live, too. Babies are the reason I do this life…

My own babies.

Animal babies.

They deserve the best life possible. And, while most days I feel like I am failing or could be doing a million things differently or better, I am showing up. I am learning and I am willing to try time and time again.

As I made that walk back to the house, at 7:30PM, with six kids waiting on me to feed them, shoes that had been soggy since well before noon, aching hips, realizing I hadn’t eaten and left my cup somewhere along the way, I wanted to clock out for the night. I wanted to. I do not get to clock out. I do not get to punch a card or put my employee code into the computer and just be done.

I came in and could hear the shower….(major eyeroll). Her day was done. She had clocked out. The half cut up watermelon from our pig hydrating earlier in the day was still on my counter, in a plastic bag, waiting for me. The rind pieces were in a separate bag on my counter. I needed a game plan for supper and had a super clingy toddler.

She came out of the shower and I asked when I had ever left watermelon in such a state on the counter. She asked what I wanted her to do….My sarcasm tends to come out at these points. I explained I do not get to just be done. I do not take a shower and life magically stops. Most days, I do not get a full shower. Even so, I will be back in the out or in a barn checking someone at some point. Please cut it up and get rid of the rind. “But, then I will be dirty.” Girl, you will not undo the shower by walking your ass across the gravel drive and dumping that into a pig pen. She came back in a full different set of clothes, every inch except her face covered. Whatever. Task completed and not by me.

My other teen has OCD. It is a thing. It has been real fun. Now, apparently we are sharing our tendencies with others. Mama needs a break.

At midnight, I was still going strong. Checking the pigs, feeding dogs, remembering I started cooking some meat from a boar for dog food TWO days ago. Good gosh. I need a nap and a real job. One that pays. Got any suggestions?

Did I mention I fell going over the pig fence Monday night? I had been to see the chiropractor earlier in the day, too. Yay me. My left hip has been replaced. My right hip has been a problem for awhile. I slipped on the wallow and fell on my ass….on the hard clay dirt we live on. My SI joints are unhappy. I thought I was entering peri-menopause (could still be, who actually knows), my period came late then got super bad and I found out I was actually miscarrying on the fourth of July. Of course, my family had no clue. I told my husband the next day. But, let’s just say, it has been a month and the urge to quit is real strong. I struggle with brain fog and memory issues to a ridiculous degree. I am tired of being tired. Send help. And, a time clock. I clearly need one.