A Cat Story
So while writing the last post, I was reminded of a little story on how we got our cute little cats. Last year, my husband and I finally decided to see a specialist about getting pregnant. One day I went to the doctor, and I felt as if she was telling me that my only hope of getting pregnant was through IVF. I can't afford it - there's just no way I could afford that. I have to pay off my law school debt, I have a mortgage, I have a car payment. I know some may think, well, you just have to be frugal and put away as much as you can each month. That if I really wanted a baby that I would save and save and save. But it's just not that easy. I want to try IUI a couple more times, and if that doesn't work, or if getting pregnant naturally doesn't work, then I think our next step would be to consider adoption. I almost feel like we should be taking steps to do that now since the wait list can be so long.
Anyway, I digress. That day after hearing what the doctor was telling me caused me to become really depressed. I cried out of the office, to my car, all the way home - in rush hour traffic nonetheless. I just wanted to get home and just hide. When I finally got home, my husband said the usual things like "how was your day?" or "what do you want for dinner?" - things like that. I just said "whatever" and headed straight for our bedroom and curled up on the bed with the covers on top of me. From the moment I walked in the door, he sensed something was wrong, and he came to ask me. I told him all about what the doctor said - or at least, what I felt she said. I still haven't clarified what she was telling me. I seriously didn't want to get up and do anything. And I think ever since then and especially after the first IUI failed, I really haven't wanted to do anything. I try to get myself thinking of other things - like, I need to finish all these books that I bought at the library book sale before the next one comes around - but doing things just doesn't sound interesting anymore. I don't really want to go out with my friends a lot of the time - I do though just because I feel like I shouldn't stay at home all the time and I do like my friends and I like being around them - and I care what's happening with them.
I digressed again. A couple days later, my husband says to me, "you remember that episode of King of the Hill when Hank says to Peggy, 'if it will make you happy, we can get a cat (or dog).'" I said, "yes." And he said, "well, let's get a cat." I was so excited - my husband, ever since I've known him, he has said that hates pets and that he will never get a pet - and now, he was letting me get a cat. That weekend (a couple days later), we went out with a few friends to find the newest member of our family. We came across the cutest and most hyper kitten I have ever seen. He was doing backflips in the cage they had him in. And when we held him, he purred so loud. My husband, after seeing backflips, knew this was our kitty. So that day, we brought home an 8-week-old kitten named Oliver. He has been so wonderful. He is now 10 1/2 months old. I am so happy that my husband changed his mind - and he is too. He loves Oliver and Oliver loves him.
And then back in December, I finally convinced my husband that Oliver needed a friend to keep him from getting lonely. So on New Year's Eve, we looked around and found the cutest little fluffball at Purrfect Pals in Arlington, WA. They had named her Renoir, but we changed her named to Sophie. She is now 8 months old.
At first, the two didn't get along, but they now they love to snuggle with each other and they like to play with each other. They are both fixed so there won't be any little Sophies and Olivers running around - though I think that would be really adorable.
I love both of my kitties, and I love my husband for finally o.k.'ing the idea of having a cat. Now he can't imagine being without them. And they have made me happy too which makes my husband happy. Although we both really, really want to have a child, and we hope every month, that this is the month I finally get pregnant. Is it sad for me to think that this month might actually be that month? I really hope so.
Anyway, I digress. That day after hearing what the doctor was telling me caused me to become really depressed. I cried out of the office, to my car, all the way home - in rush hour traffic nonetheless. I just wanted to get home and just hide. When I finally got home, my husband said the usual things like "how was your day?" or "what do you want for dinner?" - things like that. I just said "whatever" and headed straight for our bedroom and curled up on the bed with the covers on top of me. From the moment I walked in the door, he sensed something was wrong, and he came to ask me. I told him all about what the doctor said - or at least, what I felt she said. I still haven't clarified what she was telling me. I seriously didn't want to get up and do anything. And I think ever since then and especially after the first IUI failed, I really haven't wanted to do anything. I try to get myself thinking of other things - like, I need to finish all these books that I bought at the library book sale before the next one comes around - but doing things just doesn't sound interesting anymore. I don't really want to go out with my friends a lot of the time - I do though just because I feel like I shouldn't stay at home all the time and I do like my friends and I like being around them - and I care what's happening with them.
I digressed again. A couple days later, my husband says to me, "you remember that episode of King of the Hill when Hank says to Peggy, 'if it will make you happy, we can get a cat (or dog).'" I said, "yes." And he said, "well, let's get a cat." I was so excited - my husband, ever since I've known him, he has said that hates pets and that he will never get a pet - and now, he was letting me get a cat. That weekend (a couple days later), we went out with a few friends to find the newest member of our family. We came across the cutest and most hyper kitten I have ever seen. He was doing backflips in the cage they had him in. And when we held him, he purred so loud. My husband, after seeing backflips, knew this was our kitty. So that day, we brought home an 8-week-old kitten named Oliver. He has been so wonderful. He is now 10 1/2 months old. I am so happy that my husband changed his mind - and he is too. He loves Oliver and Oliver loves him.
And then back in December, I finally convinced my husband that Oliver needed a friend to keep him from getting lonely. So on New Year's Eve, we looked around and found the cutest little fluffball at Purrfect Pals in Arlington, WA. They had named her Renoir, but we changed her named to Sophie. She is now 8 months old.
At first, the two didn't get along, but they now they love to snuggle with each other and they like to play with each other. They are both fixed so there won't be any little Sophies and Olivers running around - though I think that would be really adorable.
I love both of my kitties, and I love my husband for finally o.k.'ing the idea of having a cat. Now he can't imagine being without them. And they have made me happy too which makes my husband happy. Although we both really, really want to have a child, and we hope every month, that this is the month I finally get pregnant. Is it sad for me to think that this month might actually be that month? I really hope so.
posted by seattlegal @ 9:35 PM
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