Mama Dot, resting and nursing her piglets the day after she gave birth.
A few weeks ago Tom called with the news—the first Blue Heron Farm piglet had been born, and more were on the way.
We have worked with pigs for several years, buying young feeder pigs from Amish farms and raising them on pasture. But this was the first time we’d had farrowing sows on the farm.
What better way to spend a Saturday evening? Adam and I drove out to the farm right away, just in time to see Millie give birth to her second piglet.
Even though I’ve been involved with farming for about four years now, I had yet to see a live birth before this night. In my childhood, I never even saw a dog have puppies. So I was a bit mesmerized by Millie’s labor.
At first, it appeared the conditions of the birth were not ideal. Tom had been moving all three sows (and one boar) out to their farrowing pasture when Millie went into labor, so she remained on the livestock trailer for the big event. But it turned out to be fine—Millie seemed comfortable, the piglets couldn’t wander too far away, and we could easily see how everyone was doing.
Millie lay on her side, panting heavily. Every once in a while her back legs would flex as she sustained a contraction, but otherwise she was relaxed and paying absolutely no attention to the humans peering in at her from the door of the trailer.
Then, without warning, a piglet would simply slip out of her body—smaller than a loaf of bread, covered in a milky white film, and still attached to the mother with a purple umbilical cord.
Almost immediately, the piglets wriggled to their feet and began to walk around their mother’s body, pulling the cord free and climbing along her flanks until they found what they wanted—milk. In a matter of minutes, the slick film had disappeared from their bodies and the furry roly-polys were already acting like pigs, stepping on their siblings’ heads and fighting over feeding space.
Adam and I watched the arrival of seven more piglets before calling it a night. Before we left, Adam went out into the pasture to find Dot, another sow who was due to give birth soon. She was alone, laying in the grass on her side, breathing heavily. As Adam rubbed her side, she let out low, rhythmic grunts, but didn’t get up. She was in labor, too.
That night Tom stayed with the sows until after midnight. Between Dot and Millie, 23 piglets were born. Adam and I returned Sunday morning to find them all nursing or cuddling together in a pile. A few had tunneled into the grass and fallen asleep. Like I said, I was never really around newborn puppies—but I think piglets might be cuter.
