Uno...Dos...Tres...

...cuatro...cinco...

Oh, fuggetit.  This is going to get ridiculous.  See?

Introducing Camille's decuplets!

She outdid herself. 

Nine the first time she gave birth, ten this time.

But this time, they're going to live.

Because I brought them inside for the birth.

Actually, I have a little sense of personal pride here--I made the right call at the right time and did the right thing.  I have a lot of medications in my little cabinet o' tricks, but in truth, I'd rather let nature take its course, unless dealing with an illness or injury.  Camille birthed one baby this morning.  I found it by accident, while giving the rabbits their hay.  It was off in a corner of her cage, grunting and nosing for mama, who was in the opposite corner, cringing.

Camille is a crappy, crappy mother. 

The baby was dry, and I have no idea how long it was out.  It was not cold, thankfully, but it was obviously as confused as I was about how it got there and when.  And Camille?  Well, she was looking at me like holycrap and stayaway, which are both the very Camille-ish communications that I get from her on a regular basis.  But one baby?  Nah.  Not Camille.  Camille gave me nine last time, there's no way there was just one little, wrinkly baby in there. 

A quick search around the cage yielded no more babies, and mind you, there was no nest.  So possibly this one was a surprise?  She was due today, so not really likely.  But where were the others?  Did she eat them?  Hmmm....

I had no answers.  I quick grabbed the grunting baby and brought it inside to warm up in a box, and then quick went out, grabbed a cage with a plastic bottom, filled it with hay, and then filled it with the complaining Camille.  As I did, I palpitated.  And felt heads and feet and a whole buncha body parts.  Obviously, she was not done.  I put her in the dark bathroom to rest and hopefully pop out the others that were waiting.

Nothing. 

 

Nada.

 

All day long. 

She was not in distress.  She was not even concerned.  But there were no babies, which is odd.  I palpitated again.  Heads, legs, little body parts.  They were still wiggling, which I took to be a good sign.  But Camille was uninspired to give birth to the rest.  Maybe she felt like she was done.  Maybe she'd reconsidered and decided that UN-birthed babies were far easier to take care of than birthed babies.  I dunno.  The day passed, and I began to be concerned.  Did she think she'd just put it off?  Not gonna happen--not on my watch.  After dinner, I went in to really take a look at Camille, which is something she really doesn't like.  I determined (as best I could) that she was open and dilated, just not making progress, and not really caring about it either way.  But the babies had stilled, and that made me worry.  So I grabbed the Oxytocin.

One quick shot.  A tiny shot--all of .3ccs.  That was it.  Right in her ample behind.  I was nervous as hell.  Oxytocin is not stuff to play with, it's serious stuff for serious business.  Did I just kill Camille?  Nothing happened for a minute.  Two minutes.  My daughter, who was waiting with me, asked "Is it going to do anything?"

But I knew it would be fast, so we waited a minute more.  And Camille, who was just laying there looking like she would rather be anywhere else, sat up and grunted.  And I said to my daughter "Here she goes."

And so she did.

In rapid succession, nine more little slippery, wrinkled babies proceeded to come out and make an appearance.    One after another after another after another.  They slid out, and mama went to work washing and cleaning them.  And under her they went to get a drink at the fountain.  And me?  I took pictures and then realized that in all the commotion I could probably just sneak that little one from this morning on under there and he/she'd get all slimy with the rest of them and Camille would never know.

And she didn't. 

All 10 babies were under there getting a drink and a licking and mama (and I) have no idea which one was from this morning and which ones were not.  Hallelujah.  I put some saved fur on top of them and walked away.

But Camille?  She's still a crappy, crappy mother.  As I wrote this, I checked on her, and she was sitting right on top of her baby pile.  Happy as a pig, smothering those little babies to death.  Yeah.  She stinks.

I put them in a box in the cage, safely out of her reach, but they'll all be staying in the house for a while.  This will be an adventure.  I see forced feedings in the future, and possibly bottle bunnies as well.  UGH.  Guess I can't ask for too much, right?  I'll keep you posted!