Not so Good Friday

Friday my sweet neighbor texted me that her goat Wilma had discharge. If you didn't read Wilma's story here is the link. Wilma was at day 152 of pregnancy. The hubs was picking up my little one and her friend and I picked up my oldest from school. My middle daughter had cheer tryouts until 10pm so she was still at school. We all got to the house around 2pm and decided to go next door and check on Wilma. After watching her for a few minutes I could tell she was in labor. It was everything you read about the goo, the contractions, the nesting, and it was awesome to see it instead of read about it. After about an hour things were progressing and she was going into active labor. I ran home to get my kidding bag and by the time I got back Wilma's owner had called the vet. New plan, we were taking her to the vet just in case she needed help delivering. My husband picked her up and put her in the back of a Toyota Four Runner and off we went. The only vets around here that treat livestock are 30 minutes away. So here I am driving a SUV that's not mine, trying not to hit bumps or swerve too much because Wilma wouldn't lay down for the first half of the trip. It was nerve racking and the gas light was on, so we had to stop and get gas on the way LOL!
We make it to the vet. Neither one of us has used this vet and they were recommended to me by several people that have goats. The vet gets her out of the car and onto a stanchion where the assistant holds her by her horns. I cringe just thinking about how Wilma felt. They examined her for a long time (too long if you ask me). The hooves were out after a bit but the head was turned back, they worked on that forever (too long). After maybe 30 minutes they decide to do a c-section but the vet that was working on her had to go on a farm call so the other vet who was busy was going to do the surgery. They take poor Wilma with hooves hanging out and put her into the nastiest stall to wait (too long) She was in the poo and pee encrusted stall for almost 20 minutes until the vet was done looking at a calf and had prepped the room. They got her in and on the table. My oldest daughter and I went to the restroom and peeked in the room and saw the baby on the ground and heard them say there was only one. After 30 minutes they said she had one boy and they were both fine but things could change you never know what could happen. We pulled the car around they brought out the baby. It was limp, lifeless and barely alive. We rubbed it's chest and pulled mucous out of it's mouth while they loaded up Wilma. I finally told my neighbor the baby wasn't right she took it and couldn't get it to respond and asked the vet to look at it once again. He said it was gone :( He was the same color as his mother and looked like a Nubian like it's daddy, he was a doll.
I'm not too happy with that particular vet. In my opinion they left the baby inside the mother too long with it's sack broken. For poor Wilma and her owner to go through the c-section and come home with only a scar is a tragedy. I cried the minute we got into the car to leave but quit, since her owner, the 12yr old granddaughter and my 16 yr. old were being so strong. When we got home I ran to my house got the hubs to help unload Wilma took my little ones friend home, grabbed some subs from Subway for my family, did my chores, went back to check on Wilma, came home and finally got my cry out. It was a very long and very sad day :( The only good thing to come from this is a new friendship with my sweet neighbor. She is one tough lady.