Nature is a bitch

Does this look like the face of a killer?

Well. It is. 

Today was hatch day. They started pipping yesterday morning, which means they poked holes in their shells to start the hatching process. It is such a weird phenomenon. You can actually hear them chirping and wiggling around trying to work their way out. Usually after the first pip, they hatch somewhere between 12-40 hours later. So, I figured last night they would hatch and I would wake up this morning to some new, cute little chicks.


Yeah not so much.


I set my clock for sunrise. I had a nagging feeling that Bridget might not take to the chicks. From what I have read sometimes, even after sitting on the eggs for 21 days, some hens will still kill their young. She's super young and it is her first time so I wanted to be there when she woke up in case they did hatch last night and she wasn't immediately smitten. Thank God both myself and Claire were there. When we walked in on her this morning, I could tell she was freaked out by the chirping and I saw that she was pecking something in the nest. I lifted her up, expecting a peck from her, and saw that she was pecking a black little silkie. Crap. After a few hard pecks it was confirmed she was trying to kill it. I snatched it up, brought it inside, and put it under a heat lamp.  My original plan was to check on them in the morning and make sure they were ok, then head to work and check on them again at lunch. I had to change that plan as soon as Bridget started killing them.The others were starting to hatch as well and I needed to get back out there and make sure they would be ok. A quick call to the on call person at work and I was able to stay and make sure everything was going to be ok. If you are planning on hatching chicks, my recommendation is to make sure you are off of work and don't have anything else planned. I had no idea. 


The next few hours were a blur. I went back to the coop to check on the others as soon as I put the black silkie under the heat lamp and when I got there, Bridget had killed another one and was furiously pecking all the eggs because they were chirping. I frantically gathered the remaining eggs, and two were actually hatching in my hands as I carried them all back to the house to safety. When I got back, I noticed that the black silkie was dead under the heat lamp. Damn. Was it too hot? Or did she have internal damage from the pecking? Either way, I'm harboring major guilt that she died. Two hatched right there and one was a cute little white silkie who ended up being ok and one was a frizzle who had the yolk sac still attached. Not survivable. It probably hatched early because Bridget had pecked it. Another egg also had a huge gaping hole in it and I could tell the chick was dead inside. I had another little one hatch within that horrid hour and she is doing ok and still alive. After that fiasco, two eggs were left and they looked like they needed a little more time to incubate before they hatched. Unfortunately, I don't have an incubator so I put them under the heat, this time with a digital thermometer( I seriously made it to the store and back with that thermometer in less than 3 minutes) and prayed they would make it. About 5 hours later I noticed they were getting dry and I could here the chicks trying to tap their way out. I read online that sometimes the egg can dry out without the necessary high humidity and the chick can get stuck in the egg. I knew from looking at them that this was the situation I was quickly getting into. Ugh. 
Waiting for the eggs to hatch, You can see the others snuggled up to the eggs that are chirping in this video:
If you listen carefully, you can hear the chick tapping to get out. 

A quick google search later, I realized I should let the remaining eggs hatch themselves and only intervene if they absolutely needed. There are a lot of blood vessels etc. that can be damaged if you just crack the egg open and help, so it's better to let nature do it on it's own. If it doesn't, then there is a procedure you can do as a last resort. 


Cue 5 hours later and last resort. 


I had to do it. I could listen and tell the little chicks were going towards the light by the sound of their weakening chirps. So I gathered my tweezers, Q-tips, and hot towel and went to work. I hatched them successfully and they are still alive tonight ( once again, I should have been a veterinarian) Both of them were super feisty when they came out and are doing great. One is a black copper maran and the other is a mutt of sorts. Thank god they lived or I would be so bummed and deflated. 


Sigh.....so out of the eight, four made it. 


We named one George Michael(the look and mullet from the 80's). Seriously, right?

We named one Mutt, because she's a mix and the other two have yet to be named. Better, non-blurry pics to follow soon. I am just so seriously exhausted, emotionally and physically after today. Farm life isn't for the faint of heart and I'm thinking I may need to reconsider this hobby. Even Viejo is tired and Oh yeah, Bridget is still Broody.