Life "After" infertility. Being, becoming, midlife-ing, parenting... But no whistling.
18 October 2013
Losing Finn
I am losing Finn.
Advanced kidney failure, and rapid decline.
My heart is breaking, broken. He is only 7, barely mature for a cat... and I am stunned by this news, nearly breathless with it. A day with a bite of food makes my hopes soar. And then, today, a quiet day, where he looks at his food then walks away, over and over and over. I can feel myself coming apart.
Grief, grief. Yeah. I get it. I will drown in you slowly and quickly and over and over and over.
But there are shifts this time. I am not doing the frantic avoidance dance. I am feeling horrid and allowing myself, at least sometimes, to fully be with my horrible sadness.
I also have a child, who declares, Finn, you are DYING, many times over and over in a way that is both funny and not funny at all, but reminds me that this time, I guess this time is about the anti-avoidance. It is about witnessing and being present and holding space and being compassionate as I flail about wanting to do anything possible to change what is.
Losing Finn. Unimaginable. My relationship with him opened my heart to risking true connection, true relationships. My choice to first seek him out at the shelter, and then bring him home as a companion... a companion who spent the first year torturing me with nights of fierce attacks on my feet and head, of knocking things off, of being almost entirely nocturnal and naughty.
My ordered life needed to be knocked about, broken open. I needed randomness, chaos, Finn. I needed this once enormous now skin and bones being.
And now, here I am, facing the loss of his amazing companionship. days maybe, or maybe weeks. It is just so raw.
Labels:
grief,
stuff that sucks
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6 comments:
I'm very sorry. I lost my furry baby way too soon to bone cancer, but she stayed with me through my pregnancy (and was a constant companion during a long battle with IF) and to see my preemies come home. It hurts so bad. My heart is with you.
Oh, I am so sorry. Our pets are often our first family members and to lose one creates a very specific kind of void.
I hope you can make the most of the time you have with Finn. Focus on the life that he has had, with you, as your family.
I am so very sorry. He sounds like a fine and noble companion, and yes, 7 is too damned young. Not that you'd have been any more ready to let him go at 17, but still. Thinking of you all.
Gut wrenching. Been there with my dogs. I don't know what else to say except grab the moments you have left and trust the process. BIG HUGS!
Ugh. I'm so sorry. I lost both my cats to kidney failure (they were brothers). . .so awful. I had no idea it was so common, until my vet told me it was one of the top illnesses for cats. I actually did the subcutaneous fluid for them (I was mad about the cats, and it was pre-kids when I was in a pretty dark time), but it only prolonged the inevitable. But anyway, it's an option if you are so inclined. I'm so very sorry you are going through this.
I'm so sorry. I went through this a few years ago and it gutted me. My cat was my baby before a human baby finally arrived. Sending you much love and light...
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