Damn girl, that's a lot of fattitude

It’s been a hell of a long week. I mean a hell of a long week.

This past Friday we had to put Bliss, our 11 year old cat, to sleep. I’ve had Bliss’ companionship for 10.5 of those 11 years. We rescued him from PAWS Atlanta, where he chose me. One of the people working there hadn’t ever seen him before despite having been there for 6 months. Apparently he practically lived on the top shelf of a closet. I sat down, he jumped down from the closet, curled up in my lap and was instantly mine.

He was absolutely a mama’s boy til the day he passed. He spent every moment he was awake at my side. He was extremely protective of me and didn’t really care for anyone else. He’d riot when he couldn’t get to me. He was my first kid.

Sadly, he finally lost his 2 year battle with kidney failure. Our vet confirmed he was in end stage with blood work, but we were already fairly certain, as he’d lost 4lbs in about 2.5 weeks, had totally stopped eating, could never get comfortable, excessive thirst, smelled like ammonia, etc.

Making the decision to let him go peacefully vs. selfishly keeping him alive for maybe 3 months – 1 year via daily IV fluids and 7 different medicines was insanely difficult to make despite how easy it sounds.

I knew in my rational mind the right decision was to let him go peacefully; a decision our vet supported, but it was harder than I imagined. I’m positive my pregnancy hormones made it even harder.

Our Vet asked me to talk to my Midwife and get her blessing with it all since I’m 39 weeks pregnant and she didn’t want anything effecting my labor or sending me into labor for that matter. My Midwife was fine with it all and I held Bliss as he drifted to sleep, Kevin’s hand resting on the small of my back.

Needless to say, it’s been a very emotional and exhausting week for us, especially me.

Sleep sweet, big boy. I’ll love you forever.