This past week, our small farm experienced a great loss. 

We had bred our sow, and the babies were set to arrive any day. We stepped up our piggy checks but somehow, we missed key signs labor was eminent and our Peppa went into labor while everyone was spread between work and school.
I have spent the greater majority of my life in agriculture. I have pulled goats, sheep, calves by hand. I have assisted in dozens of births, but pigs were something new to me. 

When I asked my dad why we never raised pigs, his comment was simply, “I love bacon too much,” so hatching out some bacon seeds was uncharted territory. 

Peppa is my son’s FFA project. She is a lovable 400-pound piece of bacon. She loves my son and still thinks she is small enough to crawl in his lap.

Side note, pigs are one of the friendliest animals I have ever worked with, of course, if they are raised with that same friendliness. Peppa had come from my son’s Adopt-a-Sow project through his FFA chapter. Peppa’s mom arrived at our house, in a trailer modified for a farrowing space. Once her piglets were delivered and weaned, she went back to the FFA program, leaving us with a handful of bacon seeds.  Peppa is about two years old, and this is her first litter of piglets. 

Everyone warned us, birthing pigs is no easy task...they were right.

By time I was alerted to Peppa’s labor, she had already given birth to about 4 piglets.  My daughter came running inside the house, frantic about Peppa’s birthing problems. 

A piglet had become stuck in the birthing canal because it was presenting hind legs first. 

Without even missing a beat, I jumped into the pen with the birthing sow.

Although I knew there was a risk, I couldn’t stand by and watch as Peppa struggled to make any progress with the little piglet. With each contraction, she pushed with absolutely no relief. My daughter stood by tears in her eyes, saying, “Mom, I just don’t know how to help her.” 

Talk about a learning experience for all of us. 

Without a second beat, I rolled up my sleeves and talked my daughter through what I was doing to help Peppa progress with her labor. In between contracts, I was able to manually rotate the piglet which allowed it to pass through the birthing canal easier. 

Once the piglet was finally freed, I was able to assess the situation a little more. It appeared that the piglets had died in utero as there were some signs of decomposition present in the newborn. 

By this time, my son had arrived home to help and Peppa had begun to deliver even more piglets, each one deceased. 

13 in total were delivered but none of them were viable. 

Many lessons were learned leads me back to the ol’ “....for I know the joys and discomfort of agriculture life...”