I went out to feed the goats this morning and found Nutmeg in labor, water broken, two little hooves presenting in the normal position: feet down, as if it could walk out. I thought birth was eminent. After a few minutes of no progress I dashed inside to call my son to bring coats for us and clean towels for the birth. We watched together quite awhile, maybe 15 minutes with very little progress. We did see a tiny nose and we saw the nose twitch. So we had a normal presentation and a live kid. Very good, yet things were moving slowly. I dashed back inside to wake up my daughter and make a fast bucketful of labor-aid: warm water with salt, molasses, and vinegar. I've never seen a ruminant who wasn't grateful for labor-aid right after birth. We all settled down to wait on the kid. The children were in position to see everything.

No kid. I kept sitting there thinking it was taking too long. But all birth always seems like its taking too long. Because time stops for births. (The angels are holding their breath, I suppose.) I reflected on all my midwifery training. Hands off at delivery. Don't touch. Don't touch. Don't touch. I kept playing games with myself thinking: there is no progress, I'll count and see if progress happens. I'd count, see a millimeter gain of head and wait again. No kid. I'm guessing 30 minutes have gone since I found her, no kid. Worrying, don't touch. Wait.

After maybe 10 more minutes with no progress I decided to pull. I test pulled the little hooves a few times. And got almost no progress. The baby felt tight--even for babies. I gently pulled again and Nutmeg got up and walked away from me. Now I was starting to wonder if we had two kids presenting at once. After several more minutes, she delivered both feet and the head herself. Greatly relieved, I told the children everything would be fine now. I expected the kid within minutes. We waited quite awhile with no more progress. Nutmeg was pushing, labor was active, head and shoulders born. No kid.

Finally I decided too much time was passing. I grabbed a clean washcloth and decided to pull. I pulled and there was almost no progress. I've pulled a baby goat with a complicated presentation. I have a body-memory idea of how hard to pull and how much give to expect. I was getting zero give. I stopped. I went back and pulled more, beginning to feel quite worried. I pulled and got the kid's body half born. Still, No Kid Spilling Out. Jeepers!

I went back, pulled again, Nutmeg started pulling away from me, and finally FINALLY we had a kid on the ground. But he wasn't coming by himself. And all of him had to be pulled. I think because he's do dang big. He's not fat either, he's very large. He nursed by simply looking up (with my help) before he ever stood, if that's any indication. She must have been in active labor nearly an hour. I think an hour is the danger mark when deciding to take drastic action or call for help. So, we did well. She did great. And I got some more experience.

She delivered her placenta (and ate half of it) in the next two hours. I kept watching for another kid. I ran inside and found information from Fiaso Farm about bouncing does to check the uterus for more kids. I bounced her easily, felt no more kids, and feel sure that's done. Well done. The kid is nursing. I checked her teats and they are flowing easily. Whew, she'll be a good milking doe. I've been wondering, of course.

Now we wait for Vanilla to kid. Storms are predicted for the next two days and she seems to be in early labor. Her rump is arched. Her ligaments are gone, and she's pawing the ground. But she's also eating like a pig, cudding, and acting otherwise normal.  She's waiting for a downpour in much colder weather in the dark, no doubt. At least everyone is well fed.