Lost Creek Ranger Gaiya

04.22.2012 photo @ 1:32 PM More later; I'm beat (as is Ceilidh — but she doesn't have to go to work tonight and I do). :-)

The nose appears first; the amniotic sac is still intact. Individual female llamas tend to have their births about the same time of day each time. For survival purposes, early in the morning but after the sun is up is ideal — lamas do NOT lick their offspring nor eat the placenta, so they are completely dependent on the sun to dry off the baby before the chill of night returns. In domestication, "ideal" isn't necessary, so normal births range from pre-dawn to early afternoon with most still occurring early to mid morning.

I chose to break the amniotic sac and clear it and the "extra" fetal membrane (unique to lamas) from the baby's nose and mouth, based on issues with Ceilidh's previous offspring (by a different stud) having extremely thick fetal membranes, compromising oxygenation. The membranes surrounding this baby were entirely normal.

The front legs shoot out next. This event is what normally breaks the amniotic sac.

Ceilidh has been responding to the baby's noises since I cleared the membranes, making noises possible. Now that the feet have emerged, Ceilidh can SEE what's making those noises and she gets excited, spinning around and around.

This is no fun. Ceilidh lies down (briefly) to take a breather. Lamas virtually never give birth while prone; this is just a "do ANYTHING" approach to getting rid of those mega-cramps.

Ceilidh's interlude allows me a chance to show you how the baby is already trying to breathe. In any normal llama birth, the umbilical cord is still attached and functioning at this point, but will be pinched off in the near future as delivery progresses. Even though it's got to be nearly impossible to breathe with all that mom squooshing baby's rib cage, the instinct is very strong.

Ceilidh is back up and the ears have emerged; baby shakes head and ears every so often, which has got to feel weird! The shiny membrane covering the ears is not the amniotic sac, but the second membrane unique to llamas. Nobody has bothered to do any DNA or RNA research to determine exactly where this second membrane originated genetically, but at this point strong evidence suggests that it's a duplication of the amniotic sac membrane rather than a duplication of the skin (as originally suggested and as still stated as fact in many veterinary texts). Why exactly do lamas have this second membrane anyway? It's likely a survival advantage or it wouldn't occur genus-wide. It has been stated that the second membrane keeps the baby's coat dry, but anyone who has attended a lama birth knows the coat is anything but dry. In this photo, you can see the fluid collecting in the membrane at the ends of the ears! Maybe it's nature's windbreaker during birth. Maybe it thwarts predators by making the baby itself harder to grab. I suspect we humans will never know the real answer.

Still checking ...

Ceilidh took another break and I took the opportunity to photograph the rubbery pads covering the ends of the toenails. This goes a long way toward keeping mom's innards from getting torn up. The pads wear off within a few days. The shiny appearance of the legs is the second membrane.

We had an intermission here. It was an unseasonably warm and humid day and Ceilidh was fairly frustrated. I decided to ask her if she wanted help by grasping the baby's legs and seeing what she thought of that. She thought, "Great idea, and while you're pulling, I'll push !!!" What Ceilidh didn't know is that I wouldn't have pulled if she didn't push, as that can cause damage. What Ceilidh also didn't know is that her trust in me (largely because she herself was born and raised here) is what made that communication and assistance a possibility. With slight downward traction from me, teamwork got the shoulders and ribcage out relatively quickly — the most difficult portion for a lama. Then the rest of the baby's body just starts sliding out; I barely grabbed the camera in time to catch this shot.

Plop! They all fall down.

Ceilidh wheels around to sniff and inspect her newborn. Already stretching out and starting to thrash around. The shiny second membrane is still intact (except for the muzzle) because the baby hasn't thrashed around enough yet to rub it off on the ground.

Less than two minutes old and sitting up. A vicuña baby would already be on its feet. But vicuñas are smaller and more vulnerable to predators, so llamas and guanacoes have the luxury of a bit more time.

It's a girl! The "tail up" posture is associated with various feelings of uncertainty and vulnerability. In this case, trying to reconcile instincts to get up and find milk are in conflict with newly-liberated muscles that need to gain strength, and lungs that have only recently inflated taking over the job of oxygenating blood. I took another photographic intermission and removed the rest of the membrane from the baby's body before snapping this pic. It's not necessary, but helps me out when I do the blow-drying,

Whoops! Trying to get up can (and usually does) result in losing ground, or in this case, the upright position.

The typical spread-legged stance to improve (or rather, just maintain!) balance. Ceilidh continues to monitor all proceedings. Highlight 's first offspring (Ceilidh's third, second living) is off to a perfectly normal start with only nursing left to accomplish for the baby, and passing the placenta for Ceilidh (no photos of those events; I was operating on a few hours sleep and was beat!). The baby probably would have gotten up before this, but for the last half-hour, I gave her a different kind of "leg up" by blow-drying the bulk of her body and neck. This is essential for winter and bad-weather births (which in turn is how I got into the habit of doing it); this time of year it does conserve baby's calories — most baby llamas lose up to a pound their first day; most baby llamas born here do not lose weight, and some even gain slightly during their first 24 hours. There's mixed opinions on whether blow-drying is beneficial for later handling. My take is that it can't hurt, and might help, but there's so much new going on that most baby llamas' intellect likely isn't getting very involved at this stage.

Colored very dark grey with small fawn "dots" on her cheeks — just like mom, except no white markings at all. At one week, a lot of coordination has been gained and this gal's gaits are now accurately discernable — and distinctly superior to her mom's. Her disposition is very trusting and thoughtful — Highlight 's genetic contribution done real good. The ear-tips-curling-back is normal. They will straighted out soon. Not sure why this happens, but it does. Drooping forward, on the other hand, would NOT be normal, and usually goes along with dysmaturity (whether the gestation was full-term or not).