Our first kids of the season were born on Wednesday – DDB triplets!
When we first bought Candy back, we brought her to the vet and confirmed pregnancy. The ultrasound showed twins, which is what we were fully expecting. Two. Manageable. Predictable.
As she grew bigger and bigger, we did start joking that maybe there was a third hiding in there. She just kept expanding in a way that felt suspicious.
Turns out, we were right.
Adding to the suspense, we did not actually know her exact due date. We just knew it was probably sometime this month. So we had been watching her closely for days, trying to read every ligament shift and udder change like it was a weather forecast.
And then, suddenly, it was go time.
For a solid 12 hours after they arrived, we were not convinced all three of them were going to cooperate with the concept of being alive.
Candy gave us two big, sturdy kids and one tiny little fighter who decided breathing was optional at first. She was flopped on her side under the others, with her head bent underneath her body, and she needed a full reboot. Baby goat CPR, rubbing, supplements, more rubbing, colostrum, more supplements, more colostrum, more convincing. Eventually she stood. Then she wobbled. Then she glared at us like we had personally inconvenienced her.
The bigger two slammed their first bottles like professionals and then immediately decided they were done eating forever. Which led to us pacing around at 3:45 in the morning muttering about survival of the fittest while calculating IgG percentages in our heads.
We switched to 150 IgG colostrum replacer because Candy did not produce a whole lot at first – which is very odd considering she gave us over a gallon last year. Then we added Tri-Shield First Defense and Bovi-sera, and we absolutely overthought every ounce.
At one point we were convinced we had ruined everything.
Spoiler alert: we had not.
By morning, all three were wobbling around like nothing had happened.
Because kidding season does not believe in emotional consistency.
The Little One
The tiny doe had the roughest start. She was weak at birth, slow to coordinate, and very opinionated about bottles. We had to tube her to get the bare minimum of colostrum into her. She never really crashed, but she made us work for every swallow.
Now she is upright, alert, and trying to bounce off walls like a normal goat.
Which is the most goat thing ever.
The Boy Scare
Because one crisis per night is apparently not enough, the buckling developed rattly breathing several hours after we had tube stress with his sister.
There are few things that will spike your heart rate faster than hearing a day-old kid breathe hard, especially when it’s a kid you’re thinking about retaining.
We dosed Children’s Robitussin at a weight-appropriate level and watched like hawks. Within five hours, he was back to acting normal.
If you are new to goats, here is your reminder: newborns are dramatic. Their lungs are sensitive. Brief airway irritation can look terrifying and then resolve.
Do not panic. Do not stack drugs. Watch trajectory.
And get some sleep.
Where They Are Now
All three are eating.
All three are (sort of) zooming.
All three are still wobbly.
All three think I am overreacting.
We are keeping them inside one more day before moving them out to a kid pen. With overnight lows dipping into the teens, we are not interested in stacking cold stress on top of an already chaotic first 24 hours.
There is a difference between letting nature do its thing and adding unnecessary risk.
We aim for thoughtful management, not survival games.
Lessons From This Round
1. The 10 percent bodyweight of colostrum within 12 hours guideline is not a cliff.
2. Early support matters more than perfect math.
3. Tubing sucks but is sometimes necessary.
4. Sleep deprivation makes everything feel catastrophic.
5. If a doe looks suspiciously enormous, maybe believe her.
6. Due dates are helpful. Mystery due months are not.
Kidding season is loud. It’s chaotic. It’s a reminder that you cannot control everything.
But you can respond calmly, layer support when needed, and trust the bounce-back when it happens.
We are tired.
We are grateful.
And we are officially in kidding season.
