Miracles in the night

It was one year ago today, at approximately 5:30am that I foaled out my very first mare. Which is just a technical way of saying that I delivered my first baby horse. The four months that I spent in the foaling barn last year gave me some of the most precious moments of my life. Though I'd been around horses in one form or another forever, even been present at a couple of births, this was the first time I was consistently in a foaling barn, expected to jump in and assist the mother.
So, night after freezing cold night I sat up with these mares. One thing about working overnight with pregnant mares is that they are your only concern, and only responsibility. The mundane things like fixing fences and stripping stalls are left to the day crew; the night is all about the expectant mothers. Learning their every quirk, alert to the first change in behavior, any sign of imminent birth. Many of these mares were ones who's racing careers I had followed very closely, never dreaming that I would ever know that [Eclipse Award Winner] always slept on the right side of her stall, or that [Multiple GR1 Winner] loved peppermints, and became so nervous when her labor started that she locked her eyes onto mine and licked my hand with every contraction. Those moments getting to know these mares so intimately were so special to me.
But nothing was so amazing, special, MIND BLOWING as delivering those foals. Keep in mind that I would watch those mares night after night, watching those babies kick around in their bellies like a worried grandmother. And then, one night... they would come out. Every time I knelt down in the straw and pulled a baby into the world (those feet... knees... legs... face... shoulders.... hips.... OUT!) it was a new and wonderful experience. Life was there where it hadn't been before. It was there in the form of a running, bucking, playful future racehorse. On one occasion, a little filly opened her eyes the moment her head was cleared from her mother, and locked onto mine as I pulled her the rest of the way into the world. How can an experience so sublime not change you as a person forever? I started in that foaling barn during a very difficult time in my life, and I firmly believe that my time spent with the horses helped me through more than anything else could have.
Sadly, foaling season came to an end. I stayed on the farm as day shift for a few more months, but after a while the long hours and small paycheck became impractical. When I worked on a farm years ago, I was single and worked it as a second job, so money was not an issue. And I had MUCH more energy at 19! So, I went back to the veterinary clinic setting, which I do feel is right for me. And yes, there are some days that I miss those horses so much that it physically hurts, which is why I am seriously looking into some sort of regular horse volunteer position. But for now I can sit in my warm bed, allowing the memories of those freezing cold nights to wash over me in the comfort of my own home. And I can smile, warm in the memories of my late night miracles.