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We Were AI’ing Tomorrow — But She Gave Birth Today.

This morning broke me in a way I didn’t expect.

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I’ve pulled a dead calf before — calm, focused, helping an older vet who didn’t have the strength. We used chains. We knew the calf was gone. I didn’t cry. I didn’t panic. I accepted it.

But today… was different.

Last Thursday, our vet came to check Big Mama and begin AI prep. She was palpated, CIDR inserted — everything routine. On Monday, I pulled the CIDR and gave her a shot. We were set to breed her tomorrow.

This morning, while feeding the Corrientes, I noticed something off: bloody, stringy discharge. She was restless. Not eating. At 8:45 a.m., she started pushing — standing.

My heart dropped.

I called the vet’s office — no vet, just a message taker. They said they’d call me back. They didn’t.

I messaged my husband, sent pictures and videos. “Something’s wrong.”
By 9:05, I saw her lie down, and then I heard it — that deep, painful, soul-ripping moo. Her water bag appeared.

I was alone.

Lena Friesen (@lenafriesen759) | TikTok

The vet had just seen her last week. We had no clue she was pregnant. No signs. No prep. Just me in a dirty pen, watching it all unravel. I called my brother, Brett. “She’s aborting,” he said, “or in early labor.”
It made no sense. We were AI’ing her tomorrow.

Then I saw the hooves.

No chains. No gloves. No towels. No help. Just my bare hands and a panicking brain.

Big Mama lay down again. I grabbed the hooves, braced my feet, and pulled. Five, maybe ten minutes of this — legs out, then the tongue. The face was coming. I panicked — if she sucked it back in, the calf could suffocate.

I held on. She looked at me — not scared. Grateful. “Thank you, Mom,” her eyes seemed to say.

But then it got stuck.

I urged her to stand. She did. With a push from her and a final pull from me, the calf hit the ground. I cleared its nose, adjusted its body.

And it shook its head.

Caring for First Calf Heifers: Tips and Insights | TikTok

It was alive.

I collapsed in sobs. Everything — fear, relief, disbelief — crashed down on me. I wasn’t okay.

My husband sent help. Brett stayed on the phone. Heather came. I couldn’t stop crying.
Then the vet finally texted:

“If you hadn’t been there, neither Mama nor baby would have made it.”

I’ll never forget today.
Not for the terror. Not for the miracle.
But for the moment a calf was born not into a clean stall or a waiting team…

…but into my hands. 🐮❤️

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