Darth Vader Kittenhead 2004-2012

Dear Baby,

Christmas was fun and sad yesterday. Your brother woke up and was a little baffled at all the toys waiting for him. We video recorded him coming down the hall then just staring at the presents. It's been one of the many best things about being a parent; getting to watch you guys have so much fun.

Late afternoon, we found our beloved kitty, Vader, having difficulty breathing. He died on the way to the emergency vet hospital. He was only 8 years old. We don't know why but the vet thinks he had a asthma attack which put him into respiratory failure. She said sometimes it just happens with cats. Vader was a big part of our lives while he was here. He solidified the relationship between me and your dad before we were married. Dads called Vader his "college cat" Vader would stay up with your dad for hours into the wee morning reading or playing video games or writing papers. Vader had a cute way of kind of breathing like Darth Vader but we named him Vader really because he was mostly black. He was a tuxedo cat, black and white. He would carry on a meowing conversation with you and one time even meowed, "I don't know" when we asked how in the heck he got himself stuck in a plastic drawer. He was always trying to sneak out the front or garage door, bee-lining for the grass to chew on. We didn't let him out by himself because there are coyotes in Colorado and we didn't want him to get hurt.

You'll never meet Vader. We are sad and angry that Vader was taken from us too soon and we always thought he'd be around for 18 or 20 years. He was such a wonderful kitty. Friendly, explorative, mysterious, and if he could talk his humor would be dry for sure.

I hope on some level Vader didn't suffer. I hope he wasn't in pain and just too weak to call for us. Tikki is still here, bless her, I hope she is okay. There's a giant hole in the house since he's been gone.

We love you so so much, Vader. Even though Talon made you uncomfortable, thank you for letting him pet you sometimes. Talon loved to watch you and wanted to be your friend. Peace and love, Vader.



A hug for us all.

I've been sad, Little One. I'm hoping you're doing well and I'm trying to not let you feel the same pain. It's Tuesday and the events have settled in. The shock is subsiding but the heartache lingers for all those families and little kids.
I'm feeling hyper-vigilant everywhere I go now. Even to the places I frequent. I hate it. I hate feeling like no place is safe.

I thought maybe talking to you today would make me feel better. I've been wanting to write but not necessarily about tragedies. Nonetheless, communication and awareness brings us together so I won't worry about you anymore.

I'll say the same thing to you I say to your brother every single night before I tuck him into bed, "I love you, you're safe, I'll see you when you wake up."

My heart skipped a few beats.

14 weeks, 6 days.
Today was a scare at the doctor's office. Dr. Amy came in to check on you and you were in a funky position (face down, spine up) which made it difficult for her to find your heart beat. For a second, we both thought there was no heart beat.

My heart skipped a few beats. I immediately started thinking of how I could I possibly get around to letting people know. Then, I saw your arm move. You wiggled a little bit and your tiny heart was pounding strong. We checked you with the extra high tech ultrasound machine and you were dancing to a 148 beats per minute heart rate. Strong. Thriving.

Stay with me, Baby. I couldn't bear to lose you. Momma loves you.