Perseverance

If I were to chart my moods on a graph every day the end result would look like a roller coaster. Depression often makes me feel as if I am bipolar (no offense to anyone who is actually bipolar. Since I am not, I am only using it as a loose comparison).

Yesterday was definitely a roller coaster day. I had the stress of wondering if Eric was alive. Turns out he was camping in a location where he didn't have cell service. Which could have been just about anywhere on the mountain, but he was exactly where he said he would be, therefore easy for me to find him when he failed to come home at the expected time.  Over twenty-four hours had gone by without so much as a text. We never go that long without communicating with each other. I was worried. My ride up the mountain gave me plenty of time to think of all the ways he could be injured or dead. By the time I saw him, safe and intact, I had convinced myself that I would find him trapped under a fallen tree. These thoughts come as a side effect of having a beer loving husband alone on a mountain with a chainsaw. He walked up to me as I approached on the four-wheeler and what did I do? I punched him as hard as I could, called him a sonofabitch, and burst into tears. He was completely baffled, but quickly made me laugh by admitting that, even though he didn't know what he did, he probably deserved it.
Since Eric's safety had been established I was free to ride back down the mountain. I did so leisurely, stopping to watch a red-tailed hawk in flight, smell the flowers and take pictures. All was right in my little world again.
When evening rolled around, and my mood turned dark again, I really wasn't surprised. I went to bed hoping tomorrow would bring a fresh start.
I woke this morning to discover that depression had dug its greedy claws into me. Once again an invisible force was keeping me in bed, and keeping me from doing the very things that I know will help pull me out of my funk.
My chest felt heavy. I felt like I was drowning.
By the time I could breath again I had missed out on the fun I had planned for the day. Immediately came the regret, then remorse, for not following through on commitments I had made. Well, what's done is done (in this case, not done), and there's no sense in dwelling in regret. As for guilt, I was born with that piece missing.
With some help from Eric, I put on my big girl pants, and forced myself back up on the mountain for a hike. For those of you who have never suffered through depression you should know this is an incredible feat. The very act of movement hurts; my feet feel like they have been filled with lead. Every step is an act of defiance against myself.
For four hours I said "Fuck You Depression", enjoying the clean air and the sounds of nature. Tonight I am winning the battle, or I'm just too tired.
My calf muscles are giving me the middle finger.
Mentally, I feel pretty darn good. #givingdepressionthefinger

Canine Midwife

This morning I had the amazing opportunity to help bring life into this world.

My little Yorkshire Terrier, Rue, gave birth to three healthy puppies with the assistance of her midwife: me. 

She began waking me up around 3am. She's been too fat to jump up on my bed for several weeks now. Instead she sits by my side of the bed and whines until I wake up, pick her up, and allow her to do her “circle four times, stomp on the blankets, then lay down” routine before I can go back to sleep. This morning was a little different. She couldn’t get comfortable, so I lay there in a half asleep haze rubbing her belly. It was about 5am when I first felt a contraction. I quickly got out of bed and Rue led me straight for the puppy nursery, aka the sunroom, where I had set up her whelping area. This is her fourth litter of puppies, she knows what to do and where, she just doesn't want to do it without me. 

The first puppy, a girl, was delivered less than ten minutes later, and this is when we came across our first problem. Although the puppy was out, cleaned up and breathing, she was still attached by umbilical cord inside Rue. The placenta had not been delivered. I didn't worry too much. I figured the next contraction would deliver the placenta. Instead I saw another sac containing the next puppy, and I saw paws instead of a nose. Over the next twenty minutes Rue had several hard contractions and tried pushing but couldn’t get any more of the second puppy, or the placenta from the first puppy, to come out. They were trying to exit at the same time and there just wasn’t enough room. The second puppy was stuck. I grabbed the KY Jelly and lubed up a finger. I had never assisted this way before and was a little nervous about screwing it up. Each time I managed to get my finger inside her vagina Rue had a contraction, but I couldn’t get a grip on the cord to the placenta or get the second puppy to budge. I was also aware that if I forced any of this it could cause bleeding to Rue and I could lose her and the pup. It was nerve racking and took more patience than I thought I had. I would have appreciated a second set of hands but everyone else in my home was still asleep and I wasn’t about to leave Rue to go wake someone up. Finally I was able to move the puppy aside just enough that with the next contraction she and I were able to extract the placenta. Which she promptly ate, chewing off the umbilical cord instinctively. We still had the problem of the next pup coming rear paws first. Rue was pushing but the pup still did not want to come out. The four years of experience I have with dog breeding seems very insignificant when facing a problem I’ve never encountered before. Watching Rue push, watching as more of the pup was exposed as it made its way through the birth canal, then when the contraction subsided the pup looked as though it were being sucked back into that tiny opening. It looked painful and unnatural. Again I lubed up a finger. I gently reached up far enough to what I believed was the puppy’s shoulder and with the next contraction I lightly pulled. All but his head made it out, and with the next contraction Rue pushed out the head, and the second placenta.

I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t realize just how stressed I was until it was over and took a moment to congratulate myself for staying cool under pressure.

I honestly thought there were only two puppies so I began cleaning up. I grabbed a second cup of coffee, I had managed to drink the first cup while up to my knuckles in placenta. I checked on all the other dogs in the house and started a load of laundry.

I went back to check on Rue and her new pups to discover that there was indeed a third puppy on its way.

This little one was coming butt first. Seriously? The butt first presentation is what is considered breech, and the most dangerous of all presentations, for both puppy and mother. I was beginning to doubt the success of this litter. But Rue was having better luck with this one than she did with the second pup. A few pushes later and she had him half way out. With his legs tucked up next to his chest he looked like he was way too big to be exiting such a small space. The female body, regardless of species, is amazingly resilient and elastic. With the next push I gently pulled on the puppy and out he popped. I felt as exhausted as Rue looked, though I know that was far from the truth.

Hours later mom and all three puppies are sleeping in the “cave”, which is a playpen turned on its side with blankets draped over it. Being partially enclosed makes Rue feel safe. The sunroom door is cracked open and held in place by a gigantic cow bone (a remnant from our deceased Labrador and too big for my girls to eat, although they try). Rue has been out a time or two for a bathroom break and actually looks relieved to not be pregnant any more. In the past she’s been an amazing mother and I expect she will be this time as well.

I am overjoyed that all three puppies are alive and appear to be very healthy. I’ve had a few pups die. That’s just the way it is sometimes. Nature is harsh and humans make mistakes. It’s all part of the experience. This go around though, I could do without any heartache. So far so good.

Dogs in general, mine in particular, give me enormous joy. Their unconditional love and simplistic desire to please is all I need some days to make my whole world feel complete. In breeding I have had the ability to share the joy with other families. It’s a beautiful thing.