A NEW ERA OF LAMBING SEASON

As lambing season draws to a close, my mind is busy with thoughts of years gone by and how different this year looked for us. With our fewest number of ewes carrying lambs due to shrinking the flock and myself taking a major step back, I can't help but feel almost nostalgic of past years.

Over the years I've seen TV programs, read books and watched social media videos of mothers farming with their babies strapped to their chests or their backs, pushing toddlers in wheelbarrows and I just assumed that would be us. We would soldier on as if nothing had changed, with our new little shadow making things a little trickier but not impossible. What I didn't anticipate was just how different things would be now there's three of us (and indie the dog) in the workforce.

Let's begin with what I can't do anymore. I cannot simply launch myself onto a ewe and rugby tackle her to aid her lambing. With Sidney, my five-month-old daughter, in a carrier on my front that's just downright dangerous. Which in itself makes me feel pretty inadequate, even though I managed to grow another human, another organ, birthed both, well kinda (with help from a lovely surgeon) and have kept said baby alive, healthy and fed for almost half a year. Yet because I can't run and jump onto a sprinting woolie animal I feel rubbish about myself? Women are far too hard on themselves. Another thing is I cannot concentrate on the task in hand. Usually, this time of year the ewes take priority over everything, using the bathroom, eating, sleeping, washing, and I don't think I replied to Whatsapp messages until dusk for a month either. Yet the days I was on the farm since having my daughter my mind was elsewhere, did she need her nappy changing, did I have the wipes with me? What time would she next need a feed and where can I sit to do that which isn't covered in birth juices? It was logistically not great to say the least.

Most evenings I almost mourned the spring times that my husband and I were the definition of an ‘A team'. Chris would call me his secret weapon because of my small hands meaning there weren't many problems a ewe could have lambing that I couldn't manipulate and birth for her. We always had offers from volunteers to help and we almost always declined because it was the one time of year we spent quality time together in one place. Not spread across three farms in two separate vehicles and not stressed and snapping each other. We would sleepover in the caravan on site like a holiday and have BBQs and a drink or two round the fire and it was pretty idyllic. But what I've learnt is that everything is temporary. My daughter not sleeping is temporary. Her having to be carried around in a sling is temporary. Her needing feeding is temporary. In a short year she will be almost a year and a half, running round those lambing fields in her little mucks and picking up lambs’ tails once they've dropped off and putting them in her pocket (gross I know but also good luck charms!). We will be back in the caravan before we know it as the A team just with a new member (who has even smaller hands than me).

So in summary, the feeling of missing out, of being held back and feeling insecure about my ability as a farmer is so worth it for being able to slow down and embrace this time in our lives. How lucky am I to have a life where my child can run around fields, notice when the trees blossom, name her own pet lamb, camp out at the farm and gets to do it all with her parents who love her unconditionally. I'd say I can cope with just the one year of having to make the sandwiches and stand back and watch.

ABOUT ZOE:

Zoë and her partner, Chris, have worked to build up their flocks and herds for over seven years, and now they have quite a menagerie of animals, grazing pockets of land all over Kent (and beyond). One thing is for certain, the passion they have for their livestock is ever present. Even in the wettest winter or the driest summer they strive for nothing but the best.