…had a cold. But now she’s feeling much, much better xx

I know, I know, long-time-no-see, yes? Well let me explain. I shall attempt to be brief with each point for brevity’s sake as there is a lot to cover, and for reasons that will become apparent at the end. Ok, here we go…

1) After we introduced the kittens to Chester, Chester lost his voice, started to gag. Rushed him to vet thinking something stuck in his throat. No sign of irritation. Was told it was likely furballs. Seemed reasonable as ever since the kittens moved in he’s spent every waking hour licking them. Bought furball food and kitty grass, found grass-filled cat vomit in hallway next day (nice) but no sign of fur.

2) The next day Chester gets diarrhea, OH NO, made even more OH NO by the fact that he likes to wake me in the morning by sticking his anus in my face. If a cat-anus-alarm-call isn’t bad enough as it is… yes, you get the picture. I spend a whole day chasing him round with toilet paper after I’d heard him scratching in the litter dish. Nice.

3) By evening Chester is completely mute. And tired. Relaxing for me as he normally likes to give me a running commentary of his day (OHMYGOD), but pitiful at the same time. And comical. And sorrowful.

4) Google informed me that it was likely an upper respiratory infection, or worse, WORMS. And we all know that google is always right, ahem. Now, the vet had done a fecal screening in the kittens and it came back negative, but then google informed me that there is such thing as a false negative, and it’s pretty common. And that almost *all* kittens are born with worms (I did find it rather odd that he didn’t worm them as a precaution given that I already have a healthy cat PLUS A SMALL BABY IN THE HOUSE).

5) Marched back to vet, asked for worming treatment, battled with the vet as he said that the screening was negative, so then played the Small Baby Card, and left the vet considerably poorer but with three doses of worming medicine in my hand. Returned home, dosed the cats.

6) Cats a bit grumpy that night, but the next day all three cats are completely hyperactive (and have been that way ever since; makes me think I was right). Spend next three days shovelling and replacing cat litter like a woman with OCD so that they wouldn’t get them all over again. Then read on google that they would also purge the worms, so delegated the task to DrMrNin.

7) Chester’s voice starts to return. My quiet time starts to leave.

9) Where are we up to? Oh, ok. Over the past few weeks my back has been progressively stiffening up from all the baby lifting and the ever increasing boobage etc. Monday night I roll over awkwardly in bed and pull/strain some muscle around my right shoulder blade. OMG the pain, I was WRITHING. Now I have a pretty high pain threshold (17 hours of back labour, natural childbirth, no drugs) but this I could not take. Was like back labour all over again, but like one big continuous contraction with no respite, spasm after spasm after spasm. I classed it as #2 on my overall top moments of pain, of which CHILDBIRTH IS #3. You get the picture. FYI #1 was post-childbirth when the swelling aggravated an old coccyx injury and they had to shoot me up with morphine, but I digress. Yes, the upper right back pain was so bad I had to resort to double strength Vicodine which I was told to take during my post-birth recovery. Yes, narcotics are bad whilst breastfeeding, but it was the same decision I had to take during those moments writhing in hospital following birth: take some so I could breastfeed, or not be able to breastfeed at all. Decision made. Besides, still not as many narcotics as an epidural so hopefully Oliver’s exposure wouldn’t be too great after just one pill. Punkin needed to eat, after all.

10) The next day get marched to doctor’s office by concerned husband to get referred to physical therapy. I described to the doctor the physical pain and how it was #2 on my list of all-time pain, and he shot me a look as if to say OMG YOU ARE SO WEAK and I could see flashing through his mind the likes of here’s someone who demanded a needle in her back two minutes into labour when she was only one centimetre dilated (I’m just trying to make the point that I have quite a high pain threshold). Here’s another thing: I’d only seen him a couple of weeks earlier too as I kept getting hypoglycaemic. So in addition he must have thought I was a hypochondriac. Whatever. All I wanted from him was to find out what drugs I could take to manage the pain to prevent it getting to that AWFUL stage (800 mg ibuprofen), and he referred me to PT three times a week for the next month. Apparently it’s very common for mothers around this four-to-six month stage to start experiencing back pain. And it’s also common for new mothers to experience big drops in blood sugar. All that breastfeeding….which makes sense.

11) Anyway, whilst there DrMrNin enquires if they have the H1N1 vaccine and yes, it was delivered yesterday. The nurse walks off, comes back, can’t find it after all so maybe she was wrong as she only glanced quickly. Leaves room again saying that she was sure she’d seen it so goes off to look again, and it turned out someone had moved the box (to a safe place). Not many vaccines delivered apparently. Small box. So one minute they want me to have it, the next minute I’m not, then they want to give it to me again. Now I AM NERVOUS ABOUT VACCINES as almost every time I’ve had one I’ve had a pretty big reaction to it. I’m sensitive to chemicals in general- whenever there are ‘potential side effects’ listed on the box of anything, sure enough when I feel in any way not right after taking something, I read the box and right there in plain type my ailment is listed. It is for this reason that I have to be really REALLY suffering in order to take something. Here’s another example: I had teeth removed once with nitrous oxide and I was throwing up for an entire week afterwards. No, anaesthetics aren’t that great for me either. So anyway, despite my reservations and protests (I don’t exactly mix with the general public right now as it’s sniffle season so I’m deliberately being antisocial, so my only exposure would be my husband, and on the whole I’m rather fit and healthy and besides, I NEVER GET SICK) I get guilt-tripped into it, take it for the baby and all that. But I might react, I plead and then finally acquiesce to them. Take it for the baby and all that.

12) Next day, back still stiff. Can barely move. Picking up a baby isn’t an option. DrMrNin stays home from work in the morning to be my hands. He goes into work in the afternoon only to receive a phonecall from me whining that in the process of doing a diaper change whilst attempting not to strain my upper right back, I manage to have now strained my upper left back too. He comes home.

13) Morning comes again, whole upper back now completely stiff. Spasms have stopped but only because it’s so stiff that I can’t perform any movement to bring them on. Stiffness and pain now extending down my upper arms. Did I mention also that ever since I put my right side out of action it hurt to breathe? I can’t believe I missed that part. So basically it hurt to be alive, and was spending days dosed up to the eyeballs with ibuprofen, and the shallow breathing was making me all spaced out and light headed. Fun. The physical therapy I hear you ask? Scheduled for Monday, they were one member down as she’d just had a baby so there was a bit of a wait. And yes, once again my nice husband arranged to work from home to be my arms as I was not in any state to do any lifting. And he also had to take the kittens to the vet for their follow up boosters. (Me, heavy Oliver in one hand, heavy cat carrier in the other, I don’t think so).

14) Kittens go to vet. Chester goes into a grump and whinges.

15) Kittens return from vet, a little quiet, but Chester happier (and peace and quiet for me). They are promptly licked all over by The Large White One to cleanse them of all things veterinary.

16) Start getting really tired and headachey.

17) Wake up next morning (Saturday, Halloween), don’t feel like I’ve benefited from sleep at all, keep taking the ibuprofen. Spend whole day feeling cold. Notice that by afternoon I’m starting to get headachey again and out of interest take my temperature. ONLY A 101˚F FEVER! What on earth??? Brave it out during the evening, watch husband get all excited when trick or treaters come to the door (they were out in full force, I’m telling you!). Go to bed.

18) Wake up at 2am, completely burning up. Have managed to sweat through my pyjamas so get up, change, and settle down for the night in the guest bedroom as I didn’t want to wake the others up and I could have more control over the bed coverings. Settle down to sleep. Woke up again with a start. This time I’m FREEZING. Spent rest of night with a poorly tummy with very restless sleep, fluctuating between boiling hot and shivering cold. Sweated through second pair of pyjamas.

19) Spent most of today in a similar state, in the guest bed, except my tummy has calmed down. I’ve also ditched the ibuprofen for tylenol as I think it works better for me. Back spasms a bit better at least which is either from not having lifted anything for the past few days, or because muscle aches have gone, but my temperature is fluctuating between 100˚F and 104˚F. What on earth??? Did I mention that I never get sick?

20) Google this afternoon informed me that the H1N1 vaccine has side effects and what do you know….

The following are common whole-body side effects occurring in response to either [of the four different brands of] H1N1 vaccination[s].

• Headache
• Malaise (feeling out-of-sorts)
• Muscle pain
• Chills
• Nausea
• Fever
• Vomiting

Read more here

Even the US Government’s Center for Disease Control state these side effects too. Exsqueeze me? Baking powder? But is that not what I’ve been having?? Plus I found out today that a friend of mine and her son are also a bit poorly after having had their vaccines too. Of course I can’t be sure that I am having a vaccine reaction as I have no laboratory proof and I could have some completely unrelated bug, but I can’t help but wonder. Anyway, at least Oliver will be safer after all of this and that’s what matters (I am in fact pro-vaccine, but support a person’s right to choose).

So yes, quite a lot has been going on. The upside of all of this is that Oliver’s got to spend some rather quality time with his daddy and it’s really been incredible to see. He enjoys himself so differently when he’s around his father- I’m there to nurture and soothe, DrMrNin is FUN DADDY. It’s the cutest, most heartwarming thing to see. I never imagined that parenthood could be this awesome. Plus all the rest and relaxation has given me a bit of a break from all the baby chores and I’ve been able to sit back, recharge and clear out some mental cobwebs. At long-last I feel like I’ve stepped off the fatiguing treadmill that is new motherhood and in my mind I’m a lot more chipper and beginning to feel like my old self again. See, I even had time to get a new theme up and running on here- the old one although pretty with the big pictures was a bit hard on the eyes, especially when there was lots to read. Again, all part of the mental cobwebs that got cleared up as it’s been on my To Do List for yonks.

And that brings us to now, Sunday night, me sitting on the couch bundled up in layers of knitwear trying to keep warm whilst DrMrNin sits there in a t-shirt commenting about how mild the night is. But I have made progress- earlier I was in a long-sleeve t-shirt, my old faithful cashmere cardigan and dressing gown under two blankets and two feather duvets YET I WAS STILL SHIVERING. I even had blue lips at one point. How cool is that? Not. Obviously. But I’m feeling a bit better now and my fever seems to be stabilising at around 101˚F. Unfortunately I have to postpone tomorrow’s physical therapy that I have been waiting patiently all week for, but best be safe than sorry- if I have got some nasty bug, I don’t want to go spreading it around. If I’m still feverish tomorrow it’s back to the doctor for me to get tested for H1N1 itself just in case that’s what I have as I may have contracted it before the vaccine kicked in as if that’s the case, DrMr has to be quarantined at home for the duration of the incubation period as that’s what the rules are where he works.

So there we have it! I did warn you it was going to be long, but at least things are pretty much now up to date on here, hee hee! And now I’m heading back to bed. Where I should be. To sweat it out and hope that I will feel better tomorrow as DrMrNin has to return to work (exhibiting ’social distancing’ as his work rules like to call it) so I’ll be back on baby duty tomorrow.

At least Chester is now fully better xx

This is Felicity Kitten, teeny, tiny, snugglebug extraordinaire. She will probably stay quite tiny.

This is Alistair Kitten, a purry little bruiser who is also quite a little snugglebug too. We expect he’s going to be quite huge.

Loveliness xxx

For the first few days, we kept the kittens and Chesterfield apart. I didn’t want them to meet until we had the OK from the vet that they were ‘clean’ and I didn’t want to rush anything and ruin a potential life-long friendship. So we took things slowly, very very slowly. Besides, DrMrNin was working a crazy 72 hour shift starting the morning after the kittens came to live with us and there was NO WAY I was going to attempt to do any such introductions without him, not with an unpredictable four-month-old who was practically guaranteed to scream at exactly the wrong moment. It was hard enough trying to get in there to play with them and feed them, but to then supervise a meet and greet? No. U-uh. All too stressful. For all of us. So the kittens had my sewing room all to themselves for the first couple of days, time to settle in, get to know the sounds and smells of the house and to catch up on some nice kitten sleep. And Chester had a couple of days to notice that there was something interesting in there, get used to the new sounds and smells, and to work up the courage to sniff around the door rather than run away from it.

Then late on Friday, I cracked the door open. Very slowly, and just a little bit. Just enough to see what was inside, what was creating the new sounds and smells. There was a little bit of hissing from the big white kitty, but through caution, not aggression. A little, gentle hiss, but with ears pricked forward in curiosity, a pair of beady eyes peeking through the door and a nose wafting the air. I watched for his cues and responded accordingly: more door open please, and ok I’ve had enough of that now.

This little door crack game continued the next day, and by Saturday evening (and with the return of DrMrNin) we had set up an old screen door in front of my sewing room so that they could gaze and sniff at each other either side of their respective territorial boundries. That night, there was enough curiosity from both parties for an actual meet and greet and we put the kitties in the travel crate, and let Chester into their room. It all seemed to go rather well and so we slowly and carefully opened the crate door and allowed them all to meet. Just for a little bit, mind. We didn’t want to rush things.

Again, there was a tiny little bit of precautionary hissing, but nothing too aggressive or anything. There was a little bit of rough and tumble but for the most part there was a mutual curiosity. We watched carefully as they made friends with each other. It was interesting to watch Chester as when he interacted with them individually, he was all confident in a This Is My House sort of way, but when it came to the two of them together he seemed to get a little overwhelmed. So we kept these little sessions short and sweet.

By the time Sunday morning came around, Chester meowed impatiently to get us out of bed. Overnight, we had kept the sewing room doors closed and he was insistent that they should be open again. Once again we set up the screen door and there was another day of gazing at each other through the mesh, and short bursts of supervised play. Slowly, slowly… after all.

Monday daytime, the same old routine: set up the screen and opened the door. By lunchtime, Chester was scaling the screen door and jumping in all by himself. That’s what we were waiting for. Chester was ready for them, so that night we opened up the front of the house which in the space of 30 seconds got turned into one big playroom for the cats. Then once again back into the sewing room for sleepytime.

Tuesday morning we opened up the doors to the sewing room, and they’ve stayed open ever since. And we have one big, happy, three-kitty family xxx

Chesterfield Fitzwilliam Rupert was never meant to be an only kitten. When we set out to get felines back in January, we went with the intention that we would get a bonded pair, brothers, playmates, company for each other when their mummy and daddy went out, and this is why we fell over each other with glee when we found two little fluffy white brothers at the animal shelter. They were destined to come with us and we were as happy as could be. Here, weren’t they sweet? But then the most awful chain of events took place, Toby relapsed with a respiratory infection he had caught earlier from the shelter (both he and Chester had come down with URIs when they had first arrived there) and struggled to get better, the vet ran some tests and then the worst thing that happened did. The diagnosis was terminal, FIP, life had dealt poor Toby Kitten a horrible blow. Thereafter for the whole of February I devoted every fiber of my being to looking after poor sweet Toby Kitten. I tried so hard to give him the best life possible while it lasted and I like to think I did a good job. There will never be kitten who could have been more loved. It was devastating.

Not only did I feel sorry for Toby, he had been so brave right up to the end, but I was also heartbroken for Chester for he had lost his brother. He had become an only feline child which had never been in the plan. But then we moved and had the distraction of the new house, and as I was eight months pregnant at the time I didn’t really leave the place unless I really, really had to. So we hung out, kept each other’s company and tried to move on with things. Then the baby came and everything was all new all over again, but this time there were lots and lots and lots of visitors to provide entertainment. And having a newborn, I didn’t really leave the house very much. Chester’s nose was a little out of joint when he realised there was now another real life baby to compete with him for my attention and he would occasionally nip at my ankles, but he would never ever lay a paw on Baby Oliver Peach. If anything he became a protective older brother, listening out for squeals and cries, helping with diaper changes and the morning bath, and he thoroughly enjoyed all the new facilties, rapidly laying claim to the likes of beanbags and strollers in which he would cosy down and go to sleep.

But then as Oliver got older, and I started to go out to the likes of various doctor appointments and moms’ groups, problems started to arise. Sweet Kitten *hated* it whenever I left the house. As soon as I would reach for my shoes, he would tear from room to room like a little tornado, eventually winding up tangled around my ankles, grabbing, kicking and nipping at me, BEGGING me not to leave. It became such a drama each time that I would find myself having to sneak outside when he wasn’t looking, or formulate some grandiose distraction to be able to make it over the threshold of the outside door. It broke my heart each time. Even leaving the radio on when I was out didn’t help things. It was becoming abundantly clear: he would get achingly lonely whenever he was left on his own. Then on Tuesday it was so traumatic leaving the house to run an errand that I became desperate and sent an urgent text to DrMrNin: Chesterfield Kitten needs company, Chesterfield Kitten NEEDS A BROTHER. We decided to think about it. And think about it we did.

The next day I emailed DrMrNin. Perhaps you could stop by the vet on your way back from work to see if there are any signs up about kittens, I suggested. We could probably start keeping a look out over the next few months. After the incident with Toby Kitten, we had become highly cautious of adopting shelter cats. Not only did we not want to lose another pet, but we absolutely did not want to risk any shelter viruses coming into our home and infecting our precious Chester. Nope. Not a chance. No. Way. Whatsoever. So we were on the lookout for a home-birthed kitten, or one from a breeder. Somewhere that had an odd number and would let us take one kitten as a companion for Chester as many places will only let kittens go in twos. And there’s no way you can split a bonded pair. Absolutely no way. What sort of person could leave one kitten behind?

Not ten minutes later I recieved a phonecall. DrMrNin had been on Craigslist and found an ad for kittens in a neighbouring city. A lady had come back from a weekend away to find two little boy kittens and one little girl living in the engine of her husband’s truck, ohmygoodness! She had tried to call all the no-kill shelters in the area for someone to take them in, but they were all full and the one place that did say they would take them wanted to take money from her to do so. OHMYGOODNESS! Three little kittens. We could take a little brother for Chester, and the others could go to someone else as a bonded pair. Perfect! A little sooner than I had anticipated, but perfect nontheless.

Three kittens, a grey boy, an orange boy, and a calico girl. We would take the grey one.

We were informed that he was very sweet, and VERY CLEVER. He sounded like he would be able to hold his own. He sounded like a perfect match for Chester Kitten.

Within two hours, we were ready to get into the car. A little sooner than I expected, but we were in the car. Driving to get Chester Kitten a little grey brother. But there was just one thing…. the orange one had already found a home. To take the grey one, we would have to split a pair, something that I had told DrMrNin that I could never, ever do. I warned him, but he said he had a plan: we would still take the grey one, but we’d *only* take him back to live with us when the little calico girl had also found a home. That way she wouldn’t have to be alone. I sighed and reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat, issuing a warning that maybe we weren’t going to be coming back with a kitten after all.

But the little girl was so pretty. So petite, and perfect and tiny and pretty. So sweetly mewing to her brother. How could we split them up? How could we leave her behind?

It’s all or nothing, I issued. We either take them both, or leave them both behind. But that would mean three cats in the house. Three whole cats to feed, nurture and clean up after. Decisions. But maybe it might be easier for Chester Kitten if there are two already bonded? That way he wouldn’t feel forced to brefriend his one brother, as the two new kittens could stick together and Chester Kitten could do his own thing still and feel like an extra special kitty. Yet at the same time he wouldn’t have to be alone in the house any more. BRAINWAVE! Besides, there was no way I would allow myself to split a pair.

So now we have a little grey boy cat:

And yes you guessed it, a little calico girl cat too:

And now Chester Kitten has a baby brother and a baby sister, and I didn’t have to split a bonded pair Right now they’re snuggled up in my sewing room with big bowls of food, and a nice hot water bottle to keep them cosy. xxx

They haven’t formally been introduced properly yet, but things seem to be going well with lots of mutual interest either side of my sewing room door. Slowly, slowly, that’s how we will take it. But you want to know the interesting bit? In the short time since we’ve had them, there hasn’t been a single episode of Chester Bitey Kitten when I have either put my outside shoes on or left the house. So far it seems that we made the right decision. A little sooner than I had expected, bur very much the right decision.

Edited to add: they went to the vet earlier today. He thinks they’re about 10-12 weeks and judging by their eagerness to be around people, he thinks they were likely abandoned rather than being stray. They tested negative for feline leukemia and FIV and wer’e awaiting the toxicology report to check their insides which should be back tomorrow. Grey kitten had just a tiny bit of flea dust, but aside from that it ao far looks like a clean bill of health for them. Which again suggests abandonment . We’ll be getting them fixed as soon as they’re old enough and they have to go back in a couple of weeks for a set of booster shots.

Something happened today that has left us all a bit speechless.
More next time xx