three little birds...

to the right, outside of my front door, is a large droopy pine tree.  we call him the dr. suess tree, because he is very tall and gangly and slanted.  he started out straight many years ago, but through the days and nights of time, he has tilted, and he now sits at about a 55 degree angle (i'm guessing, since i'm not exactly an engineer.)
in the last couple weeks, we've been watching a bird's nest sitting high up in one of his sagging arms.  The mama robin built up her home,  laid her eggs, and has since become very busy bringing worms and what-nots home to her babies.  it's been a true delight each day to watch her work her magic.
today, while playing tennis in the yard with M, i reached down to pick up the ball and nearly fainted.  i gasped, put my hand to my chest, and then screamed almost as loud as i could, "everyone, inside now."  i then shoveled baby, kid, cat and dog through the door.  i sank, both literally and figuratively, to the floor. i sent my husband this text, 'three dead baby birds in the grass under the nest in our dr. suess tree.'  and then i cried dry tears and walked into the kitchen to figure out what to do.
i hadn't seen them when i walked M to school this morning,  i hadn't seen them when we walked home.  but there they were, now clear as day, laying in the grass instead of up in the safety their mother had built them.  we had bad storms last night, so i can only guess that had something to do with it.
i finally grabbed a couple trash bags, a couple sets of heavy duty latex gloves and the lysol (not exactly sure if disinfecting grass really works.)  I told the girls i'd be right back and locked them inside.  i could not risk my three year old coming out and seeing the dead babies.  
i very slowly walked down the steps towards the scene.  as i began to bend down, i noticed that they were not, in fact, dead, but really barely alive.  i jumped, as if i'd seen a ghost, and ran back up onto the porch, calling my husband to amend my earlier text.
now i had no idea what to do.  i was pretty sure that if i touched them, the mother would never come back.  but if i left them there, something would get them.  and they were new- i could see their entire skeletal structure through their grey and translucent skin.
i got nervous.  i felt my own motherly instincts kick in.  i wanted to start digging to find them little worms, i was about to go in and grab one of the baby's medicine droppers to start giving them water.  it was somewhere in that time (which was literally seconds after realizing they were alive) that i heard them.  they were screeching.  and their bright yellow beaks were pointing straight to the sky.
my heart melted.  i went inside.  i went to the back of the house.  i took a few deep breaths. i came back out and watched through the window (first the living room, then the dining room, and finally the window above the front door- switching them up as if maybe the scene would be different when i got to the next window.)
the mama robin was around, i saw her.  i never saw her come to the birds, but she definitely knew they were there.
an hour or so passed, and it came time for soccer.  we used the back door and walked around the house on the outside of the fence, hoping to avoid any contact with the babies.
while we were out at soccer and then dinner at a friend's, my husband came home and began to research how to help the baby birds (thank GOD we have the internet back up!)  he ended up calling a hotline.  he had answers when i got home.  he had also made a make-shift nest out of leaves and soft branches.  evidently it is okay to move the babies if we kept them in sight of the nest.  so, i carefully picked up each body, so tiny and so fragile.  even though the mama robin was lingering very close-by, i needed to get them into this new home.  i needed to get them up off the ground. as long as they are placed in her sight, the mama robin should not abandon them just because i moved them.  she should still feed and care for them, as much as possible.  and i'm not sure how possible it is after seeing just how frail they really are.
i placed the small box of leaves and babies onto a tall bush near the tree.  i made sure it was secure and i told them to take care.  i've been peaking out ever since, but it's gotten too dark to see what might be going on.
i know this is nature.  i know baby birds can die, but i just don't like when it happens on my watch, in my yard, in my own dr. suess tree.  
the hotline said something to the effect of, 'only 25% of birds in these situations survive.'  but i think 25% is a pretty good number.  at least i'll keep thinking that all night, while hoping that i wake up to a small, bird-like miracle.