Strange Machines

Boy ~ 28 January 1992 – 24 April 2009

My sweet baby Boy passed away tonight at 2345h from what appeared to be a cat version of a heart attack. The vet valiantly tried to resuscitate him as his gasping ceased but failed.

He had been eating well at dinner time and seemed his usual self till loud crashes and strange howls from the back around 2240h led me to go investigate.

I found him lying on his side in a pool of spilt water and urine and he was gasping and howling in a voice that terrified me. I carried him to his favourite rug and he foamed slightly at the mouth. He seemed in distress and pain and was shaking. I stroked his fur. He did not flinch.

I tried looking online but found nothing. My Cornell’s Vet book was missing. I phoned the hubby to hurry home. Then I looked for an emergency animal clinic. The nurse took down what happened and told me she’d call the vet.

When she phoned back, hubby was home and getting a box and towel ready for Boy. He said it looks like a stroke and I’d better come along. I burst into tears. For the first time I realised he could die.

I kept telling him as he lay in that box that I was here and I love him. His howling had ceased and he was just gasping.

The nurse was waiting for us downstairs. We hurried up. The vet shaved his paw and gave him a plug. They injected some meds in him and I thought he’d be ok till she put a tube down his throat and the nurse started pressing on his chest and asked us to sit outside.

I knew it was bad then but still held out hope. Tears just burst and I sat while Bear looked at me quizzically. Later he kept asking me where is Boy and all I could say was he is gone forever.

The vet came out and said, he’s gone. I rushed to the room and looked at him. His eyes were open and he merely looked dazed, not dead. One of his eyes had thickened already. I stroked his fur, his perfect soft fur.

It was over but I needed answers. It was too late for a blood test but an xray showed no blockage in his throat nor lungs nor unusual in his heart. Most likely she said, it was his heart, not something he ate.

I let them clean him up and put him in another room for me to say my goodbyes. I stroked him and held him for the longest time, knowing I’d never be able to do that again. Tomorrow he’d be cold from refrigeration. He’d be stiff.

The nurse was kind, promised to wrap him in his towel before putting him on ice. Tomorrow we’d take him to my aunt’s garden to bury him. I won’t have him burnt in some furnace. I held him tight, kissed him, and told him that I loved him before saying goodbye.

He was my first baby and for all of my life, I will never forget him.

After one of the roughest and exhausting nights in my nursing history when Bear nursed almost every hour on my completely sore and exhausted nipples (and howling as if the world was ending if he didn’t receive any – “I really really want NAN!”), Bear cheered me with a lovely conversation about me not going back to work.

His Dad asked him, “How about Mom goes back to work and then we have more money to buy you more toys?”

He looked at me and said, “No, I want Mom to look after me. I have enough toys. See,” gesturing to his stuffed animals on the cot. “I have so many friends.”

Then he hugged me. :`)

The whole of this last month, almost as if he suspects his throne will be usurped, Bear has been nursing feverishly every night and every morning almost like a newborn. It has been undoubtedly exhausting and excruciating and I get up every day parched and absolutely beat.

I try to encourage him to stop, hugging and praising him when he unlatches, and I find that the times I am calm, he will be too, but the times I am angry and frustrated, he will pick up on my mood and cry for milk more. Still it is hard to be calm every morning when one is sore, in pain, having Braxton-Hicks, and the sorts.

As mothers we do the best we can with the knowledge we have, and I remind myself constantly that to a child, it is almost akin to us wives having to accept a second wife. It is that painful and traumatising. So I must be patient.

Well, it is almost that time now. 4 days more to the due date. Braxton-Hicks are frequent (although strangely enough none today) and I can almost feel my ligaments shift to prepare for the birth. I worry most that Bear will cry for me at night when I am at the hospital, not so much the pain or discomforts of childbirth, and I hope that I have prepared him enough for the changes to come.

Recently I’ve been too beat to get up – that 38 week exhaustion – but Bear, now almost 3 and wired like an Energizer bunny, loves to play. Here’s how I’ve been coping, all achieved lying down:

1. Read to toddler in bed

Cuddle together with a bunch of books he picked and read to him while he lies under your arm.

2. Play hide and seek

Round up his stuffed friends and man one of them. Stuffed friend hides in the blankets, pillows, anywhere easy to find,  within your arm’s reach, while he seeks. Then they can take turns.

3. Play the Zoo game

Round up his stuffed friends again and discuss with him which ones can pretend to be zoo animals, the rest can be visitors. Make the requisite ooh sounds when the visitors see the zoo animals. Zoo animals can show off by swimming or prancing.

4. Play educational games on iTouch

There are a ton of great educational games on the iTunes app store for a steal. Some he can play by himself, others like Hidden Everest, he can play with you. You could doze or enjoy a fun treasure hunt or cheer him on as he wins in a game.

I just read in one of my pregnancy books that around the 35th week (and that’s when it began) the hormones will turn expectant mothers into aliens. Yes, this post is proof of that. Unnecessary worrying, strange cravings (for sugary food – yuck!), preoccupation with unnecessary things (finishing the courtyard! and maybe sewing some stuffed animals), excessive purchasing of baby things. Heck, I even started Bear on cloth diapers (bumGenius – not bad at all but for the PUL), and have ordered some wool diapers after I read that PUL could be an endocrine disruptor. Dang.

Meanwhile I am still figuring out this cloth diapering thing. Prefolds, doublers… heck, I just bought an all-in-one. Then I found out that they take a while to dry if I don’t wring them out properly and air every bit of it. They’re expensive too. $30 a pop (or poop) and we’ll need a lot when the little one is born. Currently Bear just uses it once a day and we change it whenever he is wet during this feeble attempt to toilet train. I haven’t had to wash out poop yet so maybe that’s why I am still chipper about the whole thing.

Even bought the Seventh Generation size 3 diapers which looked so small and thin I haven’t dared to put them on Bear yet. They are supposed to fit a child of weight up to 13kg but they look small enough to fit only Kaku! I better try them soon though. Bear’s growing like a weed. Or maybe I can save them for the baby. Hmm…

The courtyard project is almost complete. The glass roof is leaking in 2 places so that’s gonna be fixed soon – clothes can’t hang there yet but I have populated the place with some sun-loving plants, including a sweet basil that freshens up the place a bit. I’ve given up on Boston Ferns which have all but died on me. Ivies too. They hate the heat. Only 2 survive and I am giving them as much TLC as I can before I pop.

Ornery after 8 months of changing cat poo, DH banished Boy to the back with the other cats after he peed and pooed indiscriminately outside his pan after the workmen traipsed all over the area. Surprisingly he’s doing quite well and only Tux seems upset about this new arrangement (maybe cos he is now half Boy’s size and the change in hierarchy since Sam and he broke off and Sam grew bigger than he has affected him somehow). Boy nabbed a nice spot on a chair with a soft towel and seems happy there. I do miss petting him in the kitchen.

Bear has been clingier than normal, especially at night. And that has been so hard cos it hurts ever more now to nurse. Thankfully it is mostly the first minute then the pain abates. There’s still tons of milk, although it looks more like water to me. Bear swears it tastes the same. “Nan is the sweetest”, he chirps. And then sings me a song he made up about the joys of nan nan. How can I not give him any?

Back to the feeling alien thing. I think it is the girl hormones. There’s been weeping. Lots. Especially during sad Buffy moments. When Angel left. When Joyce died. All very sad. Even when Riley left! The only other time I cried during a movie or TV show was when the guy Lou Diamond Philips played died in La Bamba. Anyway. Hope I’ll feel more myself after baby is born. And that the labour is short, painless, and safe…