We always thought we would have kids. We started trying when we believed we were ready. A month went by, then two months, six months, a year. Nothing happened.

Something was wrong, but nobody could tell us what - and they still can't to this day. We tried IVF three times but our results were not good. We were devastated.

Eighteen months after our last IVF cycle, we knew we would not be having our own children. And, somehow, we have moved to a life that is much different to the one we thought we'd have.

This blog is about what we do now we know we won't be having children - the thoughts, dreams, realities, sorrows, and joys that have become our new life path.

I hope you will enjoy what I will be sharing, and I hope that if you are at the point where life without children is a reality for you, that you might find some hope and inspiration here.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Sweet dreams...

Over the last week Minerva’s health deteriorated rapidly. Her breathing became more labored, she wasn’t eating much at all, and when I picked her up she would be struggling to breathe and seemed to be in pain. I was lost as to what to do and Kirby was away from Monday to Friday. On Friday afternoon I made an appointment with the vet for yesterday (Saturday) morning. I had a fading hope that something more could be done for her, but I knew that this was unlikely.

On Friday night I lay down on the floor beside Minerva’s little bed (she had taken to sleeping in the wardrobe since she became ill) and I patted her and talked to her. I asked her to let me know when she was ready to go.

In the early hours of yesterday Minerva woke me up by pulling at the covers to get in under them with me for a cuddle. She hadn’t done that since she became ill. She curled up next to me, purring, and looking at me with those beautiful green-yellow eyes. Somehow I knew she was telling me she was ready.

Kirby woke me up in the morning and Minerva was under the quilt in between us. We gave her cuddles and told her we loved her for near on twenty minutes. Kirby said that Minerva had eaten some tuna (one of her favorite foods) for breakfast.

When I got up yesterday morning I was amazed to see the sun shining. Friday’s weather was stormy and cold and yesterday was supposed to be the same. I had said to Kirby on Friday that it wasn’t fair that Minerva wouldn’t get to sit in the sun again. But, the storms and clouds held off long enough for Minerva to sit in her favorite chair by the window, taking in the garden and the warmth of the sun, one more time, while we got ready to take her to the vet.

We told the vet, at the clinic, that we thought it was Minerva’s time to go because she was getting worse. He was surprised by what we said – until he examined her. Her lung capacity was 10% and her heart was under so much pressure that she was in pain. I asked if anything more could be done even though I already knew the answer. The vet said that we could double one of her medicines, but that this would affect her kidneys, and the best we could expect was for her to live a few more weeks – if the medicine worked at all.

We knew it was time to let her go. We didn’t want her to suffer anymore and I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying during a seizure, or from a heart attack, and I especially didn’t want her to die alone.

Minerva died in our arms at 10.30 yesterday morning – 15 years, 4 months, and 7 days from when I first saw her in the pet shop and knew that she was mine and that I was hers.

My love is with you always my little angel.


Illanare said...

I am so, so, very sorry to read this news about your darling girl. My own little one left me on 1st May and the pain is horrendous. I know that we did the best thing for our darlings but this is the hardest thing for us.
Sending you hugs.

Kate Bettison said...

Illanare - thank you so much for your condolences. Even though my heart will never completely heal, your words have soothed it a little bit more. I am sorry to hear about your little one too - if only they never had to leave. The pain is so great and I see Minerva everywhere. I truly think that letting them go like this is the ultimate act of love. We put them first in a way we never hoped we would have to. When they go they take a little bit of our hearts, but they also leave a little bit of themselves in our hearts. It's strange, one of my friends lost her cat on the same day as Minerva, and now I hear about your baby - perhaps they are all playing in kitty cat heaven together... I like to think they are. Big hugs your way too x

Julez said...

Sending much love your way dear Kate. I know how much this hurts. My Hannah was in the same way with me through the hard stuff and the good stuff xoxo

Kate Bettison said...

Thanks Julez - Hannah sounds like she was a special cat too. I think soul mates are not just human, but can be our pets as well...I am starting to smile again, and even laugh, while I look at photos, watch videos of her, and remember her antics. She had a strange penchant for carrots - she would carry them around in her mouth, roll on them, but never actually eat them...my funny girl xx