Before Isaac came along, Jon and I had four other babies. Our cats. (We might have been crazy cat people in our previous lives.) Three of these babies are still with us, but the most special one of all we lost in November of 2011. Miles was our first. I know it sounds insane to anyone who hasn’t had a strong connection with an animal, but he was as much a part of our family as any person. He was a special friend, and I still miss him all the time. It’s not that I don’t care for the other three, but there was something exceptional about Miles. Losing him was horribly difficult for Jon and I both, and it came smack dab in the middle of our infertility battle. It was a dark time.
People always tell you that your relationship with your pets will change when you have a baby. I always thought, “Oh no, not me. I’ll never forget about my cats.” Well, it’s not that I love them any less, but I’ll admit, there have been quite a few days where I realize it’s a good 2-3 hours past their feeding time. I used to have to seek them out for affection, but now I find them coming to me, wanting some love. Many times, this is during the only time of the day where I’m not wrangling a child, and quite honestly, I just want to be left alone.
I’ve had friends ask how the cats are adjusting. For the most part pretty well. They will come up and sniff Isaac while he’s sleeping, and Boo Boo has even curled up next to him. They all have been caught napping in one of the many cozy spots intended for the baby at one point or another.
Although, Sophie has attacked me twice when Isaac was crying. This doesn’t help her case for getting my affection. I think she just couldn’t take the noise anymore, which sometimes I understand. She was a rescue from a pretty chaotic environment, so I have to cut her some slack, but I have my eye on her.
So, I guess I’m still trying to find the balance between being mom to my son, and my cats. Does that make me weird?