I'm still not feeling myself today. So I'm probably not going to post as much for the next few days as Scott will.
I got Tar Baby's ashes back today. Yes, I am curious so I opened the box. He is a tablespoons worth of ashes. Yes, there are small bones in it; you can tell what they are. At least I have my baby home with me. That's all that matters. Even if I only knew him 8 days. I was him mom, nothing else. I loved him, and he knew it. I think he wanted to die in my arms and not in his basket alone. I am glad I was there for him at the moment when he needed to leave.
Thanks to all who cared enough to look and respond to my loss. I greatly appreciate it.
I got teary-eyed and started to cry when the crematorium dropped his ashes off at the hospital to me. I miss him greatly. Last night I kept thinking I needed to get up and check on him, but there was no basket next to my bed. I also tend to hear things. Like I thought I heard him cry for me several times, and he is not there. Or at least not physically.
Scott says I miss the 'habit' of taking care of a kitten baby. It's just not that. I miss HIM. I miss holding him. I miss kissing his face. I miss waiting on him hand and foot. I miss having him depend on me and knowing that I would wake him up to eat and hold him for as long as he wanted. I miss having him sleep with me.
He was my special little baby. He started out in the wrong body and wanted to try again, Scott says.
It amazes me that people will help out any type of deformity in a human, but when it comes to an animal its different. Neonatal care sucks in veterinary medicine. We are so tuned into spaying/neutering and forget to research and care for the neonates when they do come along.