December 2, 2013

Just last week, I saw my little Allie improving to the point that I was insanely hopeful that her condition was, perhaps, in some sort of remission.  Friday, however, her back legs started giving out on her and she was walking as if she were slightly tipsy, and it broke my heart.  I attributed some of the weak leg problem to the B-12 injection I had given her on the right side.  She hid from sight most of that day and this continued into Saturday.  The only way Allie would even drink some water was if I would reach behind the bed, gently pick her up and take her to the bowls I put in the bedroom for her.  She picked at her food but gulped down water, then proceeded to the litter box (I have one set up in the bedroom), but she didn't even bother trying to cover anything.  Allie would finish her business and carefully exit the box.  It was heartbreaking to watch.

Most of Saturday, I was wrestling with the final decision I had to make for my youngest girl, but I knew what needed to be done for her.  By late the evening, my mind was at peace.  I would wait until Monday, which also happened to be Emmi Sue's one year anniversary, so Allie would be at our vet's clinic, a place she was already familiar with, rather than new surroundings which would frighten her.

Sunday was an oddly beautiful day for both me and Allie.  For the first time in weeks, she came out of the bedroom on her own and tried to open the cabinet door, where she goes to hide when she is afraid or just wants to be left alone.. and it's also right next to where I sit when I'm on the computer.  I helped her open the door so she could slip inside, where she stayed for quite a few hours.  Every couple hours or so, I would open one of the doors just to make sure she was alright, not knowing if she had chosen to be near me as her final resting place or not.  Eventually, Allie left the cabinet and inched her way into the bottom opening of the kitty loft, one of her favorite places to nap.  I was beginning to understand that my baby understood that her time was almost over and she wanted to lay down, at least one more time, in her favorite places.  I loved looking down at her when she was in the kitty loft.  I knew she was comfortable, and she could hear and feel me directly next to her.  It was a good day/evening.

Over the weekend, I'd wake in the morning (yes, I was really waking up much earlier) and first check to see if Allie was alright, which mostly meant that I checked if she was still breathing and not in despair, which I did throughout the day/night.  The wonderful thing about my little baby is that all I had to do was reach down and touch her, and she was purring.  When I'd stop touching her, as long as I continued to speak to her, the purring continued but was even louder if I said her name.  It meant so much to me that even though Allie wasn't feeling well in the least, it only took Mommy's voice and touch to calm her and make her happy.

When I awoke Monday morning, I looked in on my baby and then make the phone call to Dr. Carolyn Kemmerer.  I wasn't going to put off this decision, knowing it was the right thing to do.  As I had told Allie just the night before, Mommy was going to give her one final gift and that was to not let her suffer.  When Emmi Sue had been ill just last year, I had done so many things wrong without even knowing it.  Even though I had done everything out of love, I kept her alive for ME, not for her.  My babies aren't alive for me.  They are alive for themselves, simply giving me the incredible blessing of being their mother in the process.  After my beloved Emmi Sue passed away, I promised Jinger and Allie that once they no longer had any sort of quality of life, I would never allow them to hurt for such a long time.  I would know when the time was right and let them go in the most peaceful way possible.

The appointment was made for 4pm that day, making it easier for me to take my little AllieBug straight to the animal hospital for cremation afterwards.  My clinic has cremation facilities on site, but I needed to have the beautiful paw print made, as I have from Emmi Sue, and the hospital was where this was done.  It's such a lovely reminder of her little back foot and I treasure it deeply.

Mom and Dad met me at the veterinarian's office, as I needed my time alone with Allie in the car.  They both looked so sad, so very old to me.  I had them each hold Allie so I could take a few pictures, and I'm so glad I did.  Those photographs already mean so much.  The expressions on their faces really do say it all.  My Allie was very loved, mostly by her abuelita.

When the time came for Dr. Kemmerer to start the first injection (it was to relax Allie, which could help her even fall to sleep), I asked my parents to please let me be alone with my baby.  Mom especially looked surprised, but I explained that I knew that if she stayed with me she'd be my mom, and today wasn't about me.  It was about MY daughter.  I needed to be able to speak to Allie, sing to her, try to calm her mind as I was sure she was frightened, cry as much as I wanted/needed, and not be comforted by anyone.  It wasn't about me.  After I said all this, my parents understood.  Mom even gave Allie two kisses on her forehead, which she has NEVER done before.  It was all very sweet and touching.

And then it was time to begin.  Carolyn (Kemmerer) placed the blanket I had brought under little Allie's body so that if/when her bladder/bowels released, she wouldn't mess all over me.  I really didn't care except that we were going to the animal hospital afterwards, so not being covered in excrement was probably a good idea.

I was amazed how Allie just lay back in my left arm, looking straight into my face.  She looked so peaceful, despite how troubled she must have been.  The doctor told me it usually took ten minutes for this medicine to relax the kitty, so she would be checking in with me.  I spent those ten minutes singing her the songs I've sung to only her her entire life, telling her how much I have always loved and adored her, how I'll miss every little thing about her, and how she will forever be the baby to me, no matter if I adopt one million kittens.  Even though it makes no sense, I've always told her that she's the baby of all the babies in the world to me.

You are my Allie, my only Allie

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know, Al

How much I love you

Please, don't take my Allie away

Please, don't take my sweet Allie away.

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Aaaaaallie, Allie Marie

Allie comes and I wanna go home

Al.. she's my Aaa-aaa-allie

Allie comes and I wanna go home.

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Allie angel, how I love you

And I'm never, ever gonna let you go

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I love my baby Allie, my baby Allie, my baby Allie

I love my baby Allie

And my Allie loves me

And my Allie loves me.

When Carolyn came into the room after ten minutes my Allie was still very alert, so she said she'd give us more time.  I could hear her out in the lobby talking with my parents, and I appreciated it so much.  I could make out a lot of what was being said, mostly about how we used to own a fantastic ice cream store and how my dad is awesome at making one-of-a-kind pieces out of wood.

My focus then went back to my baby, who was twitching quite a bit, but I knew that was to be expected.  It reminded me of how my legs get when I start to relax and the MS doesn't allow a peaceful relaxation.  Her legs were kicking and one of her arms would stretch out involuntarily.  I just hoped none of this was causing her any discomfort.  I kept right on talking with her, but more softly now as I knew she needed to sleep if at all possible.

The entire time Allie lay in my arms, I couldn't take my eyes off her breathtaking face.  Every little detail of her face, gaze, fur, whiskers.. will be engraved in my mind for all eternity, as will this time I spent with her.  It was absolutely beautiful to have this time alone with her.. in the exact same room, as I requested, that Emmi Sue had been in countless times before the kidney disease took her from us.  I had tears rolling down my cheeks, but yet felt total peace as I knew my AllieBug would never know such pain.

When Carolyn came back in, maybe twenty minutes later, I knew it was time.  As she shaved one of Allie's front arms, I started to bawl, but then stopped long enough to whisper to my baby, "AllieBug, you'll be fine, honey.  Emmi Sue is waiting for you so don't be scared."  Then the injection was given and a few seconds later, Carolyn let me know that there was no longer a heartbeat.  I know I cried that much harder when I heard this, feeling a million emotions all at once.  My little girl, the one I called my youngest, was really gone.  How did this happen?

It all seemed so unreal.  Just three months ago, my Allie was perfectly fine, still running passed me as I was on my way to the bathroom, to jump on the bed so I could give her belly rubs.  And now, now she was no more.  I didn't question whether or not I did the right thing, but the reality of her no longer being here was, and is, almost too much to even conceive.

After Carolyn helped me wrap my precious baby in the blanket, I carried her to my car and placed her in the seat next to me.  My parents drove behind me as we made our way to the animal hospital.  I was glad to be alone as I needed this last little journey with only my Allie.  I spoke to her, put my right hand inside the blanket and stroked her very soft, warm belly fur again, knowing our time together was almost over.  It wasn't until I pulled into the hospital parking and my dad opened my door that I broke down and cried hard, really bawling over losing my youngest girl.  I held her tight against me as I tried to calm myself down, knowing I had to pull myself together at least this one last time.

As I spoke to the young lady at the desk, she noticed that the last time I had brought one of my girls here for the same thing had been exactly one year prior, even before I pointed it out to her.  I had already placed Allie "comfortably" on the counter, mostly so my parents could see her sweet face and say good-bye to her one more time.  I kept running my fingers through her glorious fur and looking into her eyes, since no matter what Carolyn did, her beautiful green eyes refused to stay closed.  Allie looked absolutely gorgeous and completely at peace.  I wanted to hug her so tight and make her heart beat again, but I knew it was impossible.  It was time to let her go.  The lady kept saying we could have more time with her in another room if we needed, but I insisted that no, if I spent more time with her it would break my heart.  With a dozen more kisses on her forehead, nose, hands.. I whispered to Allie that this was the last step of her journey.  Soon we'd be together again, but she had to do this on her own.  I was in a thousand pieces as the lady slowly walked away with my little angel, telling us they'd call me in a week or so when her ashes were ready for me to pick up.

After leaving the animal hospital, I realized that for years I had been a very good kitty mom, but it took that night to make me into a mother.  A mother puts her child's needs above her own, and this is what I did.  I would have preferred to keep Allie with me for as long as possible, but that would have been for me, not for her.  She was more important than my needs.  I finally grew up.

And Miss Allie, I will love you each and every day for the rest of my life.  You were always my secret angel, my protector, my magic healing girl, Mommy's perfect little Bug. ♥