One thing I haven't really mentioned is that my cat, Fiona, is gone. The night of my original hospitalization Fiona went outside - something she has been doing regularly since the spring. And, there isn't really a great way to put this without throwing someone under the bus, but no one called her back inside. (I drove myself to the hospital while Frank gave Eddie dinner, his parents and my parents came later that night) She always, always came when called. But no one called her. No one told her that we were leaving. I went into the hospital Saturday night, the last sighting of her was Sunday afternoon. Our neighbor saw her walking around our house. I hate to think about it, hate to think of her wondering where we were and why the door wasn't open for her. If we didn't go to the backdoor to let her in, she would walk around to the front. She would go back and fourth until someone opened the door. Usually it was Eddie. How many times did she go back and fourth that day? I hate to think that she thought that we just left her.
She is gone, and I'm heart broken. I have tried really, really hard not to think too much about it or dwell on it because I don't want to put anymore stress on my body because I know the hysterical crying that I'm holding in will put me into contractions. And even after typing the above paragraph I'm crying so hard that I can't see the screen.
Today something blowing around the porch caught my eye and I jumped up to see if it was her. The other night some kids were playing outside after dark and some sound that they were making traveled into our window and sounded just like her meow. I ran downstairs calling her, calling out the windows, standing out of the porch calling the cat that I knew I heard. It didn't dawn on me until I saw the kids in the back when I went out into the backyard to call for her. Frank has gone to the shelters and she's not there. Our friends joke that he should just bring back any black cat and I wouldn't know the difference. Frank knows I would, and honestly, I find the jokes upsetting and hurtful.
Fiona was one of my babies. She was mean - really mean - for a long time until we got her fixed. Then, some switch flipped and she became cuddly and lovey and a good cat. Frank fell in love with her then, too. She would lay on my belly when I was pregnant with Eddie and when he would kick her, she would chase his little kicks and punches all around my belly....until she was over the game and just wanted to sleep. At that point she would slowly dig her claws into my tum. It was hilarious. Eddie loved her so much - he knew just how to hold his hand to have her come up to him. She learned patience with him. He learned gentleness from her.
I miss her everyday. I miss her pushing my face with hers in the middle of the night to get under the blankets. I miss her crazily meowing for Frank to give her food at night. Frank and I would say that she was our favorite pet - Saddie is crazy and Jack Jack smells, but Nona was our perfect baby. I even miss the way she would drink from my water glasses. I am so, so heartbroken. And many days I hold grudges against those who didn't call her in. Who didn't go pick her up and put her back in the house.
I've stopped calling for her. I've stopped leaving food in the backyard incase she's just out having an adventure. The worst part though? Eddie hasn't. Eddie still asks for her, calls her, and wants to know where she is. He doesn't understand why she won't be coming back. He asks a million times where she is. And those questions? They suck. I try my best to try and act calm about it, but really I just want to breakdown and cry.
The other day he was calling her. "OH! MOMMA! I found her! I found Nona!" me, trying not to cry, asked him where he saw her. "In the sun, Momma. She's up in the sun."
I wish I could still make myself believe that she is out on an adventure, but each day that passes I find myself coming to terms with Eddie's idea that she's in the sun. Good thing too, sun spots were (of course) her favorite.
Hang in there. It does get easier. I had a cat I loved more than anything and she too is still off on some grand adventure. I only have myself to blame though- the last time I saw her was when I was on my way to work one morning. She was down a ways from our house, but this was normal for her. I usually would have stopped and picked her up and drove her home. But I was running late so instead I just rolled the window down and scolled her and told her to get home. I wish I would have stopped. What I wouldn't give to hold her again. Mostly it kills me that the last time I saw her, I yelled at her :( But the pain and the tears do ease as each day goes by. Soon you will have your new baby to help keep your mind off it. I just had a baby (that's how I found your blog, seaching for baseball party ideas on Google- wonderful party ideas by the way!) and having my son to hold and love has helped. I hope I didn't make you feel worse, I just want you yo know you are not alone and I know how you are feeling.
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