So I'm sitting here on my patio this morning when my husband comes out and reaches for something next to the barbeque. Just then he said, "Honey! Look!", gesturing down under the barbeque cover. Two ash gray paws sticking out. "OH NO" I thought. My first instinct was that some poor animal had gone under there to die. But we live in a condo in the middle of the city so it didn't make sense. Our townhouse on the main floor of a 30-storey tower, surrounded by other 30+ storey towers in every direction.
Slowy, carefully, I pulled up the fabric of the barbeque cover, only to discover a little gray cat hiding in there. I coaxed him out by talking sweetly and softly to him. Once he realized I was not going to hurt him, he became very friendly and let me pick him up. He had a collar (no tag) and seemed very tame, so I knew he came from a home somewhere.
Our neighbours in the townhouse next door were out on their patio too, and we asked them if they knew anything about this cat we found. They immediately reported that they had seen signs for a missing gray cat in the elevator. D found the sign and called the phone number.
As it turns out, this cat fell 17 stories off the balcony and somehow survived and hid under our barbeque. What's more is that this cat went missing 4 days ago and had been surviving without food or water during that time.
The owner came down immediately to claim him and was overcome with relief. We couldn't believe the cat had survived. Not only that, but he seemed, well, just fine! Oh and how cute is this: Apparently his name is "Goose". Quite an eventful morning.
My depression is back today, but to a lesser degree. I still haven't received my counseling appointment notification so I'm hoping that will happen next week. I woke up this morning thinking about L, and how we haven't talked in so long. We used to be so close and I find it wrenching that our friendship has deteriorated like this. I wonder, if the tables were turned, would I abandon her? Would I be so wrapped up in my own pregnancy that I wouldn't have the time to check in with my friend who was suffering and depressed? I like to think not, but who knows. Maybe she thinks that she's protecting my feelings by not talking to me. Either way, it makes me sad.
Maybe once we can finally start trying again, I'll feel a bit better. I will go for my next Beta HCG blood test on Tuesday to determine how much closer to zero I am. Last week's was 25, so my prediction is that this week will be somewhere around 10 or so. Probably two more weeks to go.
Even though we tried for over a year to get pregnant, once we started on Clomid, it only took two cycles. I am really hoping that it only takes a short time when we finally start again. I would be beyond overjoyed if we could start telling everyone the news this Christmas. That is my true and sincere hope. I'm putting that out to the universe.
Someone from the message boards sent me a "script" for how to pray to God. Do I dare start praying again? Won't God sense that I'm still resentful and angry at him? Wouldn't my prayer be considered insincere? Wouldn't that be like asking for favours from an ex-boyfriend who broke your heart?
What do you think?