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I’ve been a midwife for over thirty years. I’ve lost track of how many babies I’ve caught. Over that time I’ve noticed that just when I think I know something, a birth will show me something that doesn't fit within my preconceived notions of normal. The more births I attended, the more my definition of normal expanded. I’m no longer attending human births, because my body can’t take the hours anymore. Even so, I've been missing babies, something fierce. They are by far my favorite people. When thinking about what could be next for me, I decided that having puppies could bring me joy as well.
So fast forward, I have my three doodle girls, Lollipop, Twink and Sweet Pea. We do everything together, including sleeping in a big dog pile on my bed. I’m not sure why, but I always end up at the bottom of the heap. Anyway, they all started their estrous cycles (aka heat) within ten days of each other. A case of syncing-cycles for sure. I’m just glad I didn’t cycle-sync with them, because that would’ve been a real mess. When they were ready to conceive we found ideal baby daddies for each of them. Lollipop and Twinkie conceived but Sweet Pea did not. Last week they both went into labor within an eighteen hour period. Thirteen babies in all. It reminded me of a recurrent nightmare I used to have where I had women giving birth in multiple rooms, and there were so many that I couldn't take care of them all. I had to bring them into one small room and lay them on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, so I could catch all the babies as they came shooting out. Needless to say, they were not happy about it. The mamas, not the flying babies :)
Twinkie in labour
That being said, I’ve always believed that mammals need to have low light, warmth, and a private space before they can give birth. My little 20 lbs goldendoodle Twinkie decided to give birth in my bed, on my green velvet comforter, right beside me. The lights and the TV were on, and my other dogs were right there. She was acting spaced out, wasn't eating and her uterus stayed contracted all day.
At 8:07pm I texted my sister Suz to tell her that I thought she was going into labor. Twinkie, not my sister :)
At 8:27pm I told her that I heard some dogs will choose to give birth in your bed.
At 8:28pm Suz asked if I had under pads to use for the births, just in case. I said I did.
At 8:34pm literally moments later, Twinkie started yelping and her first pup was born before I could put anything under her. I called my sister right away because I was so excited. She had to remind me to turn the blaring TV off and dim the lights. Okay, who’s the midwife here..? All of Twinkie’s puppies were born a half hour apart. She and her five pups are still in my bed. When I tried moving them over, so I could get into my king-sized bed, Twinkie picked up each of her puppies and carried them back to the middle of my bed, one by one. Wait, isn’t it my bed...?
Later that day, my 90 lbs bernedoodle Lollipop went into labor. I noticed that she was anxious and wanted to be right up next to me. Just like Twinkie, she wasn’t eating and her belly stayed taught all day. Then, similar to Twinkie, she started yelping, got up and ran to the middle of the living room. The lights were on and it was cold, but she pushed her first puppy out onto the hard floor anyway. So much for my theories about mammals....
Lollipop stood there looking shocked when she dropped her baby on the floor. Her puppy was not moving or making any respiratory effort. My hands were shaking when I picked up his little body. Because the room was cold, I grabbed a dishcloth, wrapped him in it, then ran upstairs, because it’s always warmer up there. Plus, my perfect puppy birth kit was up there. I thought I had seen meconium-stained fluid (fetal poop) so I assumed his membranes were ruptured, but in fact they were not. I pulled the membrane off his little face, but still no respiratory effort. I was about to clear his airways and start inflation breaths, but then realized both layers of his amniotic sac, the amnion and chorion were intact when he was born. I pulled the second layer of membrane away from his face while rubbing him with a dry towel. He started crying, and I started crying with him, but I was also laughing at myself because I knew so much, but I knew nothing. I’m not sure how I missed the fact that I didn’t need to cut his umbilical cord inorder to carry him off with me. He was born in his sac, placenta, cord, and fluid, all intact. I know, ridiculous, but in all fairness I’ve never cared for a tiny, furry faced baby before. There was no meconium. His APGAR scores were 8/10.
Lollipop didn't seem interested in her puppy at first. I was the first to hold him, and I worried that Lollipop might not bond with him. After some coaxing, I got the big furry prego into my walk-in closet, where I snuggled them up together. The puppy was cold, probably because he wasn’t sucking yet, and there was no fur-to-fur contact with mom yet. So, I put him up against her and covered them in a soft fuzzy puppy blanket and put a heating pad over them, and then Lollipop and I spooned him until he was warm. For over two hours we waited for her labor to start up again. I just stayed where I was, in my closet with her and her baby, and we waited. The puppy seemed interested in feeding, but couldn’t get latched on. He just kept crying out in frustration. While we waited, I could feel more puppies moving around in her womb, so I was sure there were more, and they were alive. That’s the only way I could figure it out because there was no other way to make sense of all the teeny tiny beating hearts in there.
When Twinkie heard Lollipop’s puppy crying, she ran downstairs to see why. Lollipop was still disoriented. Twinkie assessed the situation and decided she should bring the crying, clearly starved puppy upstairs with her. Remember Twinkie only weighs 20 lbs, and Lollipop weighs 90, so her pup was born much bigger than Twinkie’s were. But still, she picked Lollipop’s puppy up and started carrying him away. It was as if she was saying “I’m the more experienced mama here, so move over.” Lollipop was very interested in her puppy after that. The puppy, aka Squeaky Hinges, still couldn’t latch on. Lollipop had what looked like inverted nipples, and I was concerned that he wouldn’t be able to latch. He couldn’t figure out how to feed until his seven siblings were born over the next two hours, and they started suckling together. No inverted nipples after all.
Lessons learned:
I didn’t know what to do, and I did know what to do. All at once...
Even if I put together the perfect puppy birth kits, complete with tiny colorful bulb syringes, my dogs might only give me a five minute warning. If I’m lucky.
Even when I make five different nesting spots in my house, my dogs will choose where they want to have their puppies. Even if it’s on my comforter. Luckily, I’m an expert at getting blood out of fabric.
My dogs burp a lot in labor. Mostly in my face. Probably from eating their placentas in one gulp. I’d probably burp too, or gag. Not sure...
I’m glad I’m human because nursing five or eight babies simultaneously looks rough. And then there’s the whole licking up all the puppy messes part. But, on the other hand, dog gestation is only 63 days, so it's a toss up.
I love birth. It’s my happy place. Puppies, humans, my guinea pigs when I was 12, all of them.
Mama dogs know how to count their puppies. It’s not like counting in an abstract way; it’s in a sniffing kind of way. She knows exactly how each of her puppies smell. You can see her quickly bob her head towards each puppy, kinda like counting with your fingers, and she is not satisfied until every puppy has been accounted for.
A dog’s labor can stall too. But just like us it doesn’t necessarily mean anything is wrong.
I can sleep in my closet for a week if I have to.
I have much to learn. Probably over, and over again. One thing I know for sure is how to get blood stains off my comforter. I know, but at least I’ve got this one thing right…
Lollipop is a full sized Bernedoodle who joined our family when she was 20 weeks old. At 12 months she weighed 80 pounds, but she never got the memo that she’s a very big dog. We’ve come to the conclusion that dogs are size blind. She has no idea that climbing up on our chests to wake us up might be a bit too much.
Sweet Pea is a mini Bernedoodle who joined our family when she was 1 year old. She weighs 28 pounds and she is one of the most affectionate dogs we’ve ever known. We call her the Sweetest of all the Sweet Peas ever. She is also very entertaining.
Twinkie is a mini Goldendoodle, who joined our family when she was only 9 weeks old. She was so little that we used to call her our Teeny Tiny Twinkie. From the beginning she’s been a rascal. She came from a breeder who has 9 children, so she was more than socialized with her first family. Because of that Twinkie is not easily frightened by anything.
