I'm a newbie at this, and trying to find the right word hasn't yet 'hit' to describe how I feel. There is such a sense of hope when you peek at the first egg, before it is candled and 'see' the potencial of life. I don't know about anyone else, but my first mental image has changed. Before starting on this whole chicken adventure thing, it was picturing a cute fuzz ball chirping. Then reality hit when doing research. Not in a bad way, but almost like considering pregnancy...am I ready for this? Can I afford it? Yeah, will enrich my life, but this will be my responsibilty. Am I viewing this as being 'shackled', since I can't leave my charges unattended for an extended amount of time? What about the big bad world? Can I lend protection? How can I influence further generations? Will they grow to be part of the smaller community and make me proud through being a positive influence on the greater neighborhood community? Am I up to the challenge of caring for them when they are ill? Tons of questions beforehand...partially excuses while bravely considering sticking my toes in the water...
Then the REAL reality hit. Slowly. Didn't even know it. Somewhere around day 15 in the incubator of the first preparing to hatch. Can't call myself a complete novice. Already have 12 beautiful girls; Rhode Island/Americauna's. Love 'em. But there is something about gently picking up a warm egg, no one prepared me to consider the weight...it simply FEELS different...there is a sense of awe, God doing what He always does, but here it is, condensed within a shell, cells woven together perfectly, something that Man just can't do. Viable, yet practical, my mind back pedals to the first time I held a baby chick, to the time I committed, (partly in fear) to hammering the first nail into the first peice of wood for the coop, to last night's last check on the girls sleeping. To the first time my grandchildren held a chick- how the children's faces lit in delight the first time their chicks attempted to fly. It brings a sense of peace. Even in the practicalness of cleaning up coops, it is all....good. And right.
I know I've gone to the otherside when there is one yogurt left in the frig, and it is my favorite, but I set it out as a snack for the winged members of the family. My teen son laughs at me. Asks, "Do we still get to eat, too?"
As for the dozen encased in precious jeweled shells, I covet them as the treasure they are worth. Almost like the insane one pocketing a hefty emerald from a raided tomb. But I'm not the only one sneaking a peek through the glassed roof of the incubator, checking the temps and humidity levels.
God created the most perfect thing in chickens. Built for purpose, I can't imagine doing this for a living. Once my human brood hit teens, I was thankful that I survived four.
Due date: looking at the 28th!!!!