My eyes widened when I saw the sheep bleeding. It also made sounds that nearly sounded like the scream of a human. Every time its swollen sides heaved, it screamed again.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
Adam frowned. "I'm not sure. I've never seen anything like this happen before."
"Is it going to die?"
I was convinced that something terrible had happened to the ewe. The yellow and black slime that fell from her body looked nothing like normal waste, and she was obviously in great pain.
When I looked closer, I saw an extra set of hooves under her tail. Just as I was wondering when she had grown them, a head appeared. It looked like that of another sheep, but it was much smaller. The distressed ewe gave a final heave, and a hideous lump tumbled to the ground.
The lump began to move as the ewe licked it clean. To my surprise, I saw it was a baby sheep. It latched onto its mother and eagerly began twitching its tail.
"It's not eating any grass," Adam observed. "Maybe the mother's body makes a kind of food for it."
I was still startled by what I had seen. "She had a baby in her body! That must be where baby animals come from, but how did it get there?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps the actions between a male and female cause the body to make a baby."
Naturally, I was concerned. Would baby humans be born the same way? Part of my punishment for bringing sin on humanity was that I would feel great pain when I had a baby, but would it really be so horrific? I had felt pain when I had accidentally gotten a sliver in my foot once, but I had managed to deal with it. Why should I think bearing children would be any worse?
I reminded myself that there was no need for me to assume the worst. After all, I soon noticed that there were other ways to give birth than to heave a baby out of the body. Birds and lizards laid smooth, round stones. So far, none of the stones had turned into tiny creatures yet, but perhaps it took a long time.
When I first saw the stone in a bird's nest begin to crack, I was afraid that it was dying before it had the chance to develop into a baby bird. I thought to grab the stone and hold it together until it could be repaired properly, but the parents swooped at me, trying to peck me with their sharp beaks. Animals no longer treated me as a friend like they had done in the Garden of Eden.
My eyes stung, and I knew I was going to cry. I hated when my body made tears, for they also caused difficulty breathing and chest pains, but I could hardly help myself. The tiny bird was going to die.
As I watched, the stone continued to crack, and then a small, pink head popped out of it. I was perplexed, but the rest of the stone fell away, revealing the body of a featherless bird.
That was the moment I understood. The stone was not the baby creature; it was only the place where the tiny animal grew. That being, a mother sheep must have a place where a lamb grew, but apparently, that place was inside her body instead of outside.
Once again, I was upset with myself for allowing the Adversary to fool me in the Garden of Eden. If the animals still liked us, my husband and I could pick up the baby creatures and hold them under our chins, enjoying the warmth of their soft, fluffy fur.
In time, I came to understand better how new life came into being, but I noticed that some animals, like hares or small rodents, could have many babies in a short period of time, but other babies took a long time to be born, and when they arrived, there were only a few of them instead of a vast number. There could be half a dozen baby hares in one litter, but a horse would only birth one foal. When I finally figured out the reason, I wished I had never wondered.