Page 63 of Finding Forgiveness

“Okay.”

“I’m texting, Hanna, the vet, as we speak, but if she’s at another job, she may not be able to come out straight away.”

I gasp. “I can’t do this on my own, Martha.”

“You can! Porkchop will do most of the work, all you need to do is supervise. I can walk you through it. Besides, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

I’m not sure why, but her belief in me helps. I grew up with a mother that constantly reminded me I wasn’t good enough.

“What do I need to do?”

“Start by going and getting the box.”

I’m not sure why I leave it behind, but I place my phone down on the straw and sprint up to the house. I’m puffing by the time I return with the large box cradled in my arms.

“I’m back,” I pant into the phone after placing the box down by my feet.

“Grab the heat lamp off the top and go and plug it in on the far wall. It will keep the piglets warm while she’s having the others.”

“Done.”

“The pile of clean towels are for you to wipe over the piglets as they come out. Once you’ve done that, place them under the heat lamp so they don’t get accidentally squished by Porkchop.”

I wince at the thought. “Okay,” I say, pulling out the stack of towels and setting them down beside me.

“Is there any sign yet?”

“Of what?”

“The piglets.”

“Umm … this is going to sound dumb, but where do I look?”

“At the rear … underneath her tail.”

“Oh my God, Martha, I see an itty-bitty snout.”

“Great. It’s all happening. I wish I was there.”

“I wish you were too. I’ll try and get some video for you.”

“I’d like that. Keep an eye on the time as the piglets are delivered, she shouldn’t go more than half an hour between each birth.”

“What happens if she does?”

“Hopefully the vet will be there by then.”

I’m both nervous and mesmerised as I watch the entire head of the first piglet appear. “Good girl, Porkchop,” I encourage, gently running my hand over her side. I’m blessed to be here to witness this, but I also know it could go pear-shaped in an instant. I pray that it doesn’t because my nerves are already frazzled. “It’s out … the first one is out,” I squeal.

“Do you remember what you need to do?”

“Yes. Wipe it over with the towel and put it under the heat lamp so it’s warm and doesn’t get squished.”

“Good girl. I need to get back to work, call me if you have any problems.”

“Jazzie,” I sob as soon as she answers my video call.

“Cassie, what the fuck. Are you okay? What happened to you?”