“Beginning of March?! That’s our due date? Honey, that’s going to be really hectic.”
I thought, “Oh please, this isn’t going to be my first calving season. I ain’t no rookie.”
That was last July. Fast forward nine months and I’m finding that I am, in fact, the rookiest of rookies. The lead-off batter of the rookies. A farmer’s wife attempting to be independent at 38 weeks pregnant while my husband focuses on 130 other expecting mothers-to-be.
Now, while I can almost guarantee none of them sport the same pregnant glow that I radiate these days (and by glow, I mean an oily t-zone and unexplainable tears from time to time), I am willing to bet the 130 cows awaiting the arrival of their 4-legged babes are far less complicated than the one Kirn has at home right now. I mean, I can’t even put my own socks on these days. But he never bats an eye each time I hold out a pair of boot socks that will be sure to cover up the new found spider veins that made their way to my cankles. (Pregnancy is beautiful.)
In typical February and March fashion, tonight would be no wild card. He will come home to eat, shower and relax for two hours before the delivery room calls again and he is summoned back to the barn. But for me, the goodnight hug and kiss somehow hit me like a sack of potatoes. I didn’t want him to go sleep in the barn again. How was it possible I was suddenly jealous of a 1500 lb animal? I had spent the past 7 months protesting our gestational similarities…including, but not limited to…
“Cows who don’t have good nutrition while they’re pregnant have small calves who are likely to have more health issues, so you need to eat that entire pizza.” (Enter human nutrition 101: quality over quantity)
“I’ll be bringing the chains in if that baby isn’t out in less than hour after your water breaks.” (Thank God for birthing class)
“Just wait until you bag down, that’ll be interesting” (ouch?)
“Hopefully you have a higher percentage of CED” (come again)
“Guessing the next low pressure system will send you into labor.” (farmers almanac agrees)
And my all time favorite so far…”She’s a heavy.” (Don’t Ask, Don’t explain policy)
All that aside, right now I wish he was here next to me making his case as to why I should take it as a compliment that I have a moderate frame rather a small frame. How is a sista’ ever supposed to jump on the “moderate frame” train confidently?!
Nonetheless, we are indeed in the heart of another calving season that I once thought I was no stranger to. In year’s past, Kirn getting up at all hours of the night with round trip commutes out to the barn didn’t phase me too much. Sure, every now and then we would have the conversation where I would say I don’t see him enough and he would remind me that it’s all worth it because this operation is our cash cow. (Punny) But we would get through another busy season together and be better for it. Well, believe it or not, another test of marriage with a farmer has been served: Calving season with a bun in the oven. Add raging hormones to lack of sleep and you my friend have created a perfect storm. Once again, we are reminded how much this sweet little punkin is about to rock our world. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I may or may not have married one of God’s most patient men ever created.
As if the sporadic February weather hasn’t thrown enough of a wrench in getting anything done, he still works sun-up to sun-down and all through the night to keep calves alive. Then, when he finally comes home, I get the rest of what’s left of his tired heart. And somehow, he manages to keep our home just as well managed as his cow herd. I’m not saying it has been a walk in the park during these last weeks of pregnancy and first weeks of calving. But by the grace of God we keep it on the tracks – some days straighter than others.
And while tonight seems like it’s going to drag on forever without him here, I know he is out there tending to what is necessary and he is only a call away once that low pressure system moves in. I know tomorrow is another day, another cow analogy, another crack at being better for each other. And tomorrow is one day closer to our lives getting a little sweeter, as our party grows to 3.