Very much understand, Fiona.
If it will help, I'll share some of my experiences.
We had Paddy (Padmeister Extraordinaire\0 who we'd had from a kitten until he was 21 (anna bit). He had to be euthanised due to chronic kidney disease and Hyper-T. When we lost him, even though it was a body blow, it seemed in some way easier to bear, because he;d had a long and happy life with us. We adored him, and have so many memories to draw upon of the times we shared, and there was so much laughter and love that it was easier to look back and smile, even though we ached to have lost him.
We then adopted MacBeenz MacSquee, another ginger striped tiger. He was the most adorable boy - daring, intrepid and engaging - a beautiful cat. We lost him, a day before his first birthday, when the roads claimed him. Our hearts were broken. He'd grown into our lives in such a short space of time. When he was a kitten, he would sleep with his paws tangled in my hair - so's I wudden sneek off wivowt him knowin.
He went out one beautiful spring day, when the sun was slanting through the mist. He never came home again, and instead we only recovered his body through the kindness of a stranger.
Then, we were fortunate enough to adopt Ross, who was a gorgeous marmalade bruiser, ebullient and generous spirited, and who loved his Mam and Dad. He would suckle on my right ear from the first week when we brought him home, and he grew to be a most splendid specimen of feline handsomeness.
Again, he grew into our hearts in a very short space of time, but - again - we lost him to the roads at 18 months. He went out one beautiful autumn evening, and he never came home again. Once more, we recovered his body through the kindness of a stranger.
Then we adopted Tinks, Ross's bestest friend in all the world. A beautiful tabby and white boy. Shy and complicated. He was a thinker. Wary and determined. He belonged to someone else at the time, but became such good friends with Ross that he decided he wanted to live with us, and so he came into our lives, and in doing so, enriched them a hundredfold. We took such pleasure in our Tinks, and he taught us much about loving and living. Sadly (you know what's coming) we lost Tinks to the roads in October last year. Another beautiful Autumn day. Another stranger with a kind heart. Another deep scar for us to bear.
I tell you this not to make you feel worse, or to emphasise the sense of loss, but because each and every one of those lives was precious to us, in the way your beautiful baby was precious to you.
Each of the wonderful cats we share our lives with leaves us with a legacy of love that gives us something special to build on, and remarkable to look back on. It is painful to do so at first, but in time, we learn to smile again at the things shared that can never be lost, unless we choose to let them go.
We celebrate the gift of sharing something special, for however long we have it, and it teaches us to be thankful for a love that some people never know, and never experience. It touches our hearts, which means we have a price to pay, but that price is worth every penny.
We're all thinking of you Fiona, and of your beautiful baby.
When you feel ready, we'll listen.
