tizabel_
Songster
My very sweet hen Pishy has been dedicated to sitting on a clutch of six eggs. Yesterday, I noticed the first pipping egg. This morning, I awoke to the cutest, fluffiest chick I have ever seen. I already have her a name. Pictured attached.
I’ve been so excited, checking on them three times today. I’ve been careful not to stress Pishy out. My flock is very attached to me, so Pishy let’s me handle her chick and the rest of her eggs, trusting that I will safely return them to her. She doesn’t complain.
The second time I checked on them, I found that three of the now five eggs had started to pip.
The third time I went out to our walk-in coop, was to move Pishy, her one chick, and the rest of the eggs to a different nest on the floor of the coop, instead of the nesting box a foot off the ground.
I was too late.
Pishy herself and all of her eggs are accounted for, the pipping ones moving along well. But her chick is nowhere to be found. I checked under every feather of her mother, under every piece of straw in our coop, in all of the nesting boxes. There is no body, no peeping to be heard. I’m heartbroken. I fell in love with that chick at first sight.
I don’t know anything for sure, but I assume the chick fell out of the nesting box and couldn’t get back up. Her mother would have to decide between warming the one live chick on the ground, or the five other eggs in the process of hatching back in her nest. The chick must have died, and my other hens may have eaten it’s body.
She has now settled down in a makeshift nesting box on the floor of the coop, underneath the original box. If a newly hatched chick strays from the nest, she will be able to get back in.
I should have moved her sooner. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a rancher. I will never heal from this loss.
I’ve been so excited, checking on them three times today. I’ve been careful not to stress Pishy out. My flock is very attached to me, so Pishy let’s me handle her chick and the rest of her eggs, trusting that I will safely return them to her. She doesn’t complain.
The second time I checked on them, I found that three of the now five eggs had started to pip.
The third time I went out to our walk-in coop, was to move Pishy, her one chick, and the rest of the eggs to a different nest on the floor of the coop, instead of the nesting box a foot off the ground.
I was too late.
Pishy herself and all of her eggs are accounted for, the pipping ones moving along well. But her chick is nowhere to be found. I checked under every feather of her mother, under every piece of straw in our coop, in all of the nesting boxes. There is no body, no peeping to be heard. I’m heartbroken. I fell in love with that chick at first sight.
I don’t know anything for sure, but I assume the chick fell out of the nesting box and couldn’t get back up. Her mother would have to decide between warming the one live chick on the ground, or the five other eggs in the process of hatching back in her nest. The chick must have died, and my other hens may have eaten it’s body.
She has now settled down in a makeshift nesting box on the floor of the coop, underneath the original box. If a newly hatched chick strays from the nest, she will be able to get back in.
I should have moved her sooner. I don’t think I’m cut out to be a rancher. I will never heal from this loss.
Hopefully the rest of the eggs hatch and are happy and healthy!
I'm so sorry for your loss, I lost one baby chick due a crow last week and it still hurts. Two other babies hatched, but the five remaining eggs died, I was and still am devastated about it too... Are you a bit alright now? 
