I’ve delivered a dead calf before. I’ve stayed calm, helped an older vet who didn’t have the strength, held the chains, pulled with purpose, and accepted loss as part of this life we live.
But today… today was different.
Last Thursday, our cattle vet came out to begin AI prep for Big Mama. Everything seemed routine, he palpated her, inserted the CIDR. On Monday, I followed through, gave her the shot. We were supposed to AI her tomorrow.
But this morning, while feeding the Corrientes, something felt off. Bloody, stringy discharge. No interest in food. Uneasy. Distant.
At 8:45 AM, she started pushing. My heart sank. Something wasn’t right.
I called the vet’s office. Left a message. No reply.
I sent frantic texts, pictures, and videos to my husband.
By 9:05, she let out a deep, guttural moo, laid down… and I saw the water bag.
We had no idea she was even pregnant. The vet had literally just checked her.
I was alone. No vet. No husband. Just me, Big Mama, and something bigger than both of us.
I had my little brother Brett on speakerphone, walking me through every step. But I wasn’t ready. No gloves. No chains. Not even a clean pen, we had been prepping for AI, not birth.
But there she was. Hooves showing. And I knew I had to try.
I grabbed her legs, braced myself against a post, and pulled as Mama pushed. The baby’s tongue slipped out. My heart raced. If Mama sucked it back in, he could suffocate. I held on. With everything I had.
She looked at me… with the softest, most trusting eyes. “Thank you, Mom.” That’s what it felt like she was saying.
Then… he got stuck. Panic surged. I begged her to stand. She did. I pulled. She pushed. And finally, he fell to the ground.
I cleared his nose, adjusted him gently. He shook his head. He was alive.
And I broke. Collapsed in sobs. All the fear, all the pressure, all the “what ifs”, it all poured out.
I called my husband, unable to speak. He sent my mother-in-law. Then Brett’s wife, Heather, came. I wasn’t okay. But I wasn’t alone anymore.
Later, the vet texted:
“If you hadn’t been there, neither Mama nor baby would’ve made it.”
I’ll never forget that message. I’ll never forget this morning. Terrifying. Beautiful. Everything at once.
Big Mama’s okay. Her baby boy is okay.
And I’m forever changed.
Credit to the respective owner.