Stable Delivery

Rose Edwards has been camping out next to Dee Dee, a pregnant mare who is three weeks overdue. Monitoring her from a distance doesn’t give Edwards enough peace of mind these nights. Most horses give birth in early morning or late night, and Edwards, a horse midwife, is worried that things might not go well.

Normal horse gestation is about 340 days, or 11 months (plus or minus a week); Dee Dee is approaching 12 months.

“We’ve never had one go this long or had to wait this long,” says Edwards, 43, who with her husband, Andy, 49, operates a horse-breeding facility at Anaheim Hills Saddle Club. Each year they oversee the births of about 15 foals.

Dee Dee, a black-and-white paint broodmare, shows signs that she is ready to give birth: Her legs are swollen; her mammary glands are expanded and dripping milk.

Finally, three days shy of one year of pregnancy, the 14-year-old mare is in labor.

It is 12:15 a.m. on a Friday, and the 1,300-pound mare paces the dark stall. After about 10 minutes, in the quiet of the night, there is the welcome sound of a burst of fluid when the mare’s embryonic sac breaks.

At 12:33 a.m., one of the foal’s tiny hoofs pokes out. The mare falls to her knees and rolls on the floor of her stall. As she rests against the stall’s gate, the tiny hoof snags on the wire mesh. Rose Edwards steps up to remove the hoof from the wire.

Then the foal’s nose pushes through--a good sign that the foal is in the correct birthing position. But Dee Dee is struggling to complete the birth.

Rose Edwards grabs the foal’s front legs and gives a light tug to help the mare present the baby.

At 12:35 a.m., the black and white colt slips into the world.

“He’s breathing! He’s breathing!” Edwards exclaims. She had feared her prized broodmare, who had given birth three other times, might have been carrying a dead foal.

Edwards drapes a white cloth under the shivering colt’s head. “I’m just so happy he’s alive,” she sighs. “He’s so beautiful.”

*

Spring, at nature’s direction, is the busy season for Andy and Rose Edwards and others in the small group of horse specialists in Orange County who oversee mares giving birth. Like expectant parents, the Edwardses wait, sometimes agonizingly, for the births.

The number of horse births in the county has, along with other aspects of rural life, declined over the years.

“Back in the ‘80s, I’d see one to two new babies a day,” says veterinarian David Treser of Equine Veterinary Associates in Yorba Linda. “Now it’s one or two a week.

“We don’t have as many babies here as we did in the ‘80s because of the economy, and the horse market is so soft you can go out and buy a horse cheaper than you can breed and raise one,” he says.

Expenses involved to breed a horse and pay vet bills and board and care costs on a mare and a foal can add up to thousands of dollars.

Still, there are enough people interested in seeing their horses reproduce that the Edwardses and fellow horse specialists Jim Tice and Carol Stanger keep involved in the birthing process.

Service fees for monitoring a pregnant mare and the delivery average about $25 a day.

Following the birth, horse midwives are usually involved in “imprinting,” or handling the foal to get it comfortable and trusting of humans.

Imprinting is a continuing process, but the days soon after birth usually involve the foal’s first exposure to a halter, a human picking up its hoofs and lessons on how to lead. At a month old, foals may be introduced to clippers to shave their muzzles or go on their first trailer ride.

Stanger and her husband, Cecil, of Yorba Linda have been breeding and raising horses for about 40 years and specialize in quarter horses for racing.

Stanger, a former nurse, estimates that she has assisted in the births of more than 2,000 foals.

“Foaling mares is an all-night job to keep track of them until they have their babies,” says Stanger, 74, who has a surveillance camera set up in her foaling barn and monitors it from her nearby home.

Tice, owner of Rocking T Ranch in Yorba Linda, also has a foaling stall equipped with a surveillance camera and a monitor set up in his living room.

“A lot of people breed their mares and don’t know how to handle it and what to expect,” says Tice, 45. He has been involved in training horses since he was a teenager, and in his 10 years of offering midwife services has assisted in about 150 births. “This way, they can have the most controlled situation as possible.”

Lori Thompson of Yorba Linda recently brought her 10-year-old sorrel quarter horse to Tice. “It makes you feel more comfortable,” says Thompson, whose show horse, Valentine, was overdue with her first.

“When she goes into labor, I know somebody will be there. And if there’s a problem, they can see it right then,” Thompson says. “It gives you peace of mind.”

The birth ended up going fine. However, a few days later the mare accidentally stepped on the colt and fractured his leg, which required surgery to repair.

Horse midwives are present to ensure that all goes well with the delivery and watch for problems before, during and after the births--even though most mares do fine on their own.

“The reason you need to be there is if they have abnormal presentation; if there’s a breech, or one of the legs is bent at the elbow and the mare can’t get the baby out. That’s when they really need your help,” Rose Edwards says.

Usually veterinarians are not on hand for the delivery but are called in after the birth to check the mare and foal.

“They’re like [baby] doctors,” Tice says. “You couldn’t afford to have a doctor hanging around [until] you have a baby. If something goes haywire, I’ll call the doctor. But most of the time, I do the honors.”

Andy Edwards is a fifth-generation horse breeder whose family started the tradition in Tennessee. Over the years, he estimates that he has delivered more than 300 foals: “I love it. It’s a legacy my family left me.”

The Edwardses breed black and white paint horses, made famous by actor Michael Landon on the ‘60s and ‘70s television show “Bonanza.”

In 1979, Andy Edwards, who holds a doctorate in communications from where, decided to have a career with horses and began operating the 15-acre training, boarding and breeding facility, situated in a canyon surrounded by affluent homes on the ridges. The breeding facility is tucked in a quiet, secluded area in the back.

Mares are usually bred in spring during their normal estrous cycles. All of the Edwardses’ broodmares have been bred to one of their two show-champion, black and white stallions, Movin to the Music and Superchief.

The Edwardses also take in privately owned horses to be bred to the stallions as well as other pregnant mares that need a place to foal. They also offer artificial insemination and ship semen to horse owners outside the area through their company, Bio-Flite Inc.

Most of the Edwards foals will be sold--usually four to 12 months after they are born-- and are valued at between $5,000 and $25,000, depending on factors such as quality, color markings and size.

Ten of the couples’ mares have foaled this spring, and one is expected to deliver soon.

Minutes after Dee Dee’s foal is born, Rose Edwards peels the afterbirth off the colt and, with a cloth, wipes the embryonic fluid from his head and body to dry him and warm his 75-pound body.

As Andy Edwards grasps the colt, Rose pours a vial filled with disinfectant on his navel to protect him against infection.

Dee Dee turns her head to glimpse her newborn and whinnies. She musters strength to get up and walk over to nuzzle noses. The mare licks the colt’s hind legs, then his head, and gives a loud snort.

“That right there is so important for the mother to accept the baby. She’s starting to bond with it,” Rose Edwards says.

An hour after his birth, the colt makes numerous attempts to stand. Andy Edwards steps in to give a boost.

With a wide-eyed look, the spindly-legged colt takes a wobbly stance and finally takes his first steps. Just as he seems to be gaining confidence, he loses his balance and tumbles.

“They have to do that a few times before they can figure out how to work their legs,” Rose Edwards says.

Back on his feet, the hungry colt noses around his mother. Rose Edwards dabs milk on her fingers to give him a taste, and Andy points him to the mare’s mammary gland. Dee Dee nudges her colt as if trying to tell him where to find it. At last the colt finds the food source that will help him grow over the next four months until he is weaned.

It’s after 2 a.m.

“After you’ve put a year into nurturing them and caring for them, I would do anything to help the mares,” Rose Edwards says.

“But the thing I love the most is when you pull the sac off the foal’s face and they sputter their first breath. It’s just thrilling to see life happen that way.”