My sense of demoralization at Christina’s decline was profound. As I suffered from stomach fits and inability to sleep, the most common phrase in Scripture kept coming to me, “be not afraid.” My response was, what a worthless thing to say to somebody. I didn’t choose to be afraid, I just was.
I was terrified. I was afraid of Christina slipping away and not being able to help her. I was afraid of her falling on me or hurting me when we had to give medicine. I was afraid of the calf slipping away from lack of good care. Then I was afraid of losing all our milk that we've worked so hard for. And truly, I was afraid of being afraid. It kept coming to me, "be not afraid." Ok, it is a little bit comforting.
For me, conquering fear comes from experience and confidence. The first day I knew Christina wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t have have a clue how to deal with it. The next day was terrible with giving her the shots, but at least she made some improvement. Yesterday was better. Even though we had to give her a shot, we knew a little of what to expect.
What got us through all of this has been generous care of our friend from the dairy where we bought Christina and our friend who first introduced us to family milk cows. Our friend from the dairy has dealt with milk fever many times, and she has skillfully guided us. But she did more than that. She answered every relevant and irrelevant question. She was always available by phone and took our calls as they kept coming and coming. When Christina was really bad off, she offered to come in the middle of the night and give her a shot if she needed it (it's an hour drive each way). Even when things were at their worst, I knew I could count on someone who really knew what to do.
And our friend who first introduced us to family cows has been right there too. She's never had to deal with milk fever, but she has experience with baby calves, mastitis, and fear of the unknown. She was the one saying, "you'll get through this, try to sleep." She also said that she expected Christina to get milk fever because we were so prepared... what? ...that God put it on my heart because we needed to be ready.
There have been moments of humor. At one point my husband said, “there should be labor, delivery, and RECOVERY hospitals for cows. Don’t send them back until everything is all better.” Through all of this, our six-month-old steer, who would never would let us within a few feet of him, has been watching and hovering. He gets close, lets us pet and scratch him and seems to want attention. He's acting like a prepubescent who is sure they are missing something good. He seems to be saying, whatcha doing? ...you can take my temperature ...I'll try the medicine.
In the midst of worry and fear, I wondered about the call I felt to getting a family milk cow in the first place. If Christina died did it mean that God didn't really want us in this. Or why would God call us to this life and then punish us with her death? But maybe God was watching out for us the whole time, getting us ready for milk fever, putting the people in our lives would could help us through it, and giving us the courage as we needed it. If you told me a week ago that I could do the things we've done the last three days, I wouldn't have believed it. But we did get through.
This living off the land has heart pulls that I never experienced eating out of a grocery store. It's putting all your eggs in one basket, so to speak, and your heart getting pulled along with them. We are invested in this land and these animals. That means more than physical investment, it is an emotional investment too. Sometimes that emotional investment is heart-crushing and soul-straining, but most of the time it's the blessing of genuine thanksgiving and confident dependence on God.
We don't know if this episode is over. We still aren't to full milking and Christina may have more set backs. But, living off the land isn't about security so much as it is about living.
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