A few months ago I though lambing would be easy.
Magical.
Beautiful.
Emotional in an "Oooh! Babies!" sort of way.
I pictured a ewe giving birth in the barn. She would clean and rouse her babies and we'd find them early in the morning, strong and healthy, nursing contentedly in the straw.
It hasn't worked out that way over here.
Okay, it has. But not every time.
I guess thought it would look like that every time.
But the truth is, we've lost lambs.
More than we imagined.
And it aches my heart.
Even yesterday.
But yesterday we also found a bit of balance.
Loss, yes.
But also life.
Magic.
Birth.
Which we deeply needed.
And we stood together, watching and in awe as this baby was born.
This birth was a balm for my weary heart.
This.
This was what I imagined.
Welcome, Buddy. We're honored to have you here.
And we're oh so glad you made it.
