Baja Review A community newspaper serving Ensenada, Valle de Guadalupe, and Rosarito in Northern Baja California
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God created our beautiful world in seven days and seven nights. I cried wolf seven days and seven nights, plus a few, but who’s counting.
Catalina, my mare, was impregnated the first part of March 2013, meaning eleven months later we would have a baby. That brought us to the middle of February, 2014. Catalina started lying down with contractions, rolling to put the baby in place and pushing with liquids dripping out on the night of February 12. I was very excited and nervous.
Anticipation had me call my friends David Gee and then Marty Harriman. They would drive over; David would sleep on the couch so I was not left alone to help with any problems that may occur. Repeating this process each time I felt the birth was near — more than five times — made me feel as I really were crying wolf. I am usually a confident, self assured person but not when it came to my mare and her baby.
Since I was getting no sleep and bothering my good friends, I decided I wouldn’t call again unless I saw a babies foot.
The early morning of February 22, I woke up at 5:19 and ran outside. As soon as I saw Catalina walking in a circle and getting ready to lay down, I knew. I didn’t have time to think. I grabbed my phone. I knew it was time. Reaching the corral I saw a white bubble coming out the back side of Catalina. I yelled to my neighbor Patricia.
Minutes later, I remember, I was talking to myself out loud about what needed to be done. As an echo in the background, I heard Patricia say, “what did Dr. Cuadras say to do?” This helped me concentrate. OK, break the sack so the baby can breath. Wait, not until it is out past the shoulders. Repeating it again, OK, break the sack so the baby can breath. Oh no, he’s not breathing. He’s not alive. Please, please, please. I rub him. I hear gurgling.
The baby takes a breath. Oh, my gosh. OK, now wait. Catalina will push and everything will be ok. We have a boy.
Damn, he looks like he may be a dark black color. His sister is blonde. Same parents. What’s up with this? I start laughing.
By this time, I realize David has arrived. I don’t even remember calling him. David starts rubbing our little boy with towels. Now I realize he’s a very beautiful dark gray. We shed tears of excitement, hugs, high fives and yes, a few loud hoots.
Our baby is born, healthy. Mama is doing great. Imprinting begins and we are all relieved.
Valentino, a perfect name for this little colt, is gorgeous. Thank you God for this miracle you have given me and thank you to all my friends who were there through all the cries of wolf.
