The Morning We Met Eight Little Miracles

The Morning We Met Eight Little Miracles Some mornings creep in quietly. The sun rises soft, the coffee brews slow, and the day waits politely for you to catch up. This was not one of those mornings. At 6:42 a.m., the peace shattered with Landon’s voice slicing through the air— “HELP! HELP!” If you’ve lived our life for any length of time, you know we’ve learned to brace for the worst. Our luck has a way of making even a sunrise suspicious. So, in bare feet and full panic mode, we flew outside expecting… well, I’m not sure what, but something terrible. Instead, we found eight tiny, pink-and-black piglets blinking back at us, as if they’d been waiting all along. The smallest, most perfect things you could imagine—still damp, still figuring out this whole “life” thing. And there was Clarice, exhausted, disheveled, but proud. The next few hours were a blur of towels, warm water, and quiet murmurs. Tying umbilical cords, making sure each baby had found their first meal, cleaning Clarice up to give her back a little dignity. We got her hydrated and fed—because even farm mamas need to feel taken care of. When we set out to give our kids the childhood of their dreams, this is what we imagined: real moments. Fresh air. Animals they could care for. Lessons you can’t find in textbooks. Somewhere along the way, we’ve collected a lifetime of stories—and today’s was one for the history books. But what we didn’t account for was how many acquaintances (and let’s be honest, near-strangers) would invite themselves over to “be a part of it.” They see the photos online and want to stand where we’re standing. What they don’t see? The reality. The insurance liability on us. The scramble to rearrange already packed days filled with work, house repairs, parenting, animal chores, helping fix my Nan’s place, and trying—some days failing—to keep our own heads above water. Animals aren’t props. They’re not there just to make Instagram feeds prettier. They live in the back for a reason. They have teeth. They can bite—especially when strangers come too close to their babies. Even the familiar can end up in the danger zone—ask my dad, who recently got body-checked out of the way by a very protective mama pig. It’s a good reminder: while the photos may be heart-melting (and they are), never underestimate the work that goes on behind the scenes. The mess, the long hours, the unexpected emergencies—it’s all part of the package. We love that people want to be part of our life. We do. But sometimes, we have to say no—not because we don’t care, but because we have to take care of our own first. These moments, these animals, these kids… they’re our world. And our world is a lot of work. So today, we’ll remember the squeaks of eight newborn piglets, the proud look in Clarice’s eyes, and the way Landon will tell this story for years. Because those are the moments that make every chaotic, muddy, exhausting bit of this life worth it.