Yesterday she had to get spayed and I found myself a total mess leading up to her surgery. It took me by surprise how emotional I got. I felt a little silly as hot tears welled up in my eyes as I handed her over to the vet tech as I know it is a routine procedure, but I couldn't help it. I don't know how any of you parents handle it when your child gets sick or needs medical attention! I mean, I worked in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit for 4 years and calmly talked parents through the most difficult medical situations that they had to watch their children endure, but put me in the mama seat (even if it is to a CAT) for two seconds and I was a blubbering mess.
I felt a certain sense of solidarity with the tiny one having undergone my own uterine surgery just five months ago (which you can read about here if you're interested). I can relate to that particular brand of pain and although our kitten obviously has no understanding of the reproductive ramifications of her surgery, it certainly brought up reminders of mine. It actually helped highlight how much my world view has shifted. This morning, Munchie is bopping around playing, begging to be fed, and purring her face off like usual, as though nothing even happened. I did not bounce back quite as quickly (as some of you may recall there was a fog of emotions and oxycodone that had to clear for me first before I was bouncing around purring again), but Munchie is an incredible reminder of the way that life goes on.
At this point I feel miles away from the profound period of time where IVs and weekly blood work and grippy socks were my day-to-day realities. When you are in the midst of miscarriage, or infertility, or surgical interventions of any sort it is easy to start to feel that they are your whole world. It's easy to start to feel that they ARE you and forget that one day there will be a life and a version of yourself that is uninhibited by those things. I look at this tiny creature currently ramming her face into my arm and trying to walk on my keyboard, and I realize, the things we go through are just that. Things that we go through. Unencumbered by human hangups, Munchie embodies "ever forward". She accepts what happens to her, she reacts (and owns it!) in the way that comes naturally (whining, growling, lots of sleep, snuggling...so, basically the same as my recovery process) and she wakes up the next morning ready to take on whatever crosses her path.