baby birds and mama bears

Note: The following is my account of an experience I will likely never live down, and it is likely not of profound interest to the general population. I simply had to go on record so that twenty years from now the boys will understand why Hayes teases me about baby birds. Oh, and if you don't want to see pictures of newborn animals, just skip it all together. 

Last weekend we discovered a robin's nest resting upon our downspout. This brought to mind one of our favorite bedtime books, the Best Nest.  Mr and Mrs Bird are on a quest to find the ideal home, and encounter many obstacles during their search. Spoiler alert: Ultimately they realize that the home they left was the best nest and they return to raise their baby bird.

So the boys and I have been watching closely. Mrs Bird came and went but I was really curious about whether there were eggs in the nest. Yesterday I waited until Mrs Bird was gone and I climbed up there to find three brand spankin' new baby robins. Like, maybe an hour old. I convinced the boys they could peek if they could stay quiet and look with eyes instead of hands. In fact, I made Davis the photographer so his hands would be occupied.

After a brief investigation, I gently replaced the nest and shooed the boys away so the mama could return in peace. I was so elated and fascinated that I called Hayes in that Husband! You won't believe what we're seeing here! kind of tone. "Can you believe those eggs hatched on the coldest day on weeks?! Poor mama bird wants to keep them warm so maybe they'd be better off in a sunnier spot."

"Rats with wings, Sarah. They're fine. As long as the mama comes back that's all they need."

So after a few minutes I went back to see if Mama had returned and what I saw stopped me in my tracks. The nest had fallen. Apparently nesting powers are truly reserved for birds and my human version is a cheap imitation. I was horrified. I had put those tiny lives at risk so my boys could get a biology lesson. Instead, I got schooled. I felt ill.

While the boys were occupied, I sneaked over to the scene of the crime and was relieved to find the babies all still breathing. I scooped them back into the nest, set it beside the spout and walked away, hoping the mama would find them again soon. She did. I was quite relieved but then I began worrying about the babies needing protection from squirrels and chipmunks and our neighborhood coyotes. I felt ill all over again.

I approached the boys and told them what had happened. That I was so very sorry and felt like I needed to protect the babies but didn't want to try and move the nest with the mama in there.  After a few pensive moments, Peter offered two solutions: set traps for Chief and other predatory creatures OR sprinkle food all around the nest so animals would get full and leave the baby birds alone. Thoughtful, yes. Practical, not so much. At this point I am nearly crying because I can't imagine what this mama is going through... and Hayes comes home. What can we do, husband?  I won't move it while the mama is there but they aren't safe.  Haven't I screwed up enough what should be the happiest day of her life??! What do we do?

He is more than slightly amused by my involvement in the bird situation. He reminds me how much I hated the pigeons in New York and that our backyard robin population exceeds normalcy. The mama is there. The babies are taken care of. Let it go, he says. The circle of life, he reasons. Then, because he loves me and not because it makes a damn bit of difference, he moved the nest back up to safety.

I am checking on that nest every hour or two today. I don't dare touch it again but I want to know if those babies are okay. I won't mind them chirping right outside my bedroom window if it means I didn't kill or maim them. (That's not a sentence I ever anticipated writing.)

I'm a mama.

I took one look at those babies and knew their mama had been waiting for them for a long time. She built a brick house of a nest for them and protected them from harm until they hatched. In the few minutes she was away to catch a worm, I came along and ruined it.

I'm a mama, and if my babies are somehow threatened, I can't see straight for all the anger and fear and love. I know it's not exactly the same, but I was clearly responsible for a mess and it was up to me to clean it up.

So like I tell my boys, I needed to do my best to make it better. And it's because I did my best to make it better that I can handle all the bird jokes that Hayes will hurl my way.