The last four days have been... debilitating. I can think of no other word that encompasses the feeling of this. It's sad and I feel cold... down to my bones and throughout my entire body. There's a hollow feeling in my chest and three out of four times when I open my mouth to speak... tears.
We had to say goodbye to our baby, Xur-Xur.
My big, strong, cuddly grizzly bear got too sick too fast and there was nothing we could do. Literally... nothing. We tried... I begged... BEGGED the vet to give me any other option to where my baby could have a good life and we could keep him. But... there was nothing.
It all started with that hip... when he originally hurt it we made him take it easy and we iced. It seemed to be getting better... slowly but surely... and then he hurt it again. So... we started over with the rest and the ice and again... it started doing better. But then, last week it reverted and kept getting worse instead of better. So... Thursday we loaded our baby up and took him to the doctor.
We had no clue what they were going to tell us. We assumed he would be loaded up on meds... have to have physical therapy... maybe even surgery. Our "worst case scenario" was an amputation or something, because again, we had no clue what was going on. But, he was in constant pain and getting around was terrible for him... so... doctor.
But the news we got... what the fuck? Our baby wasn't just hurt. Our baby had advanced and aggressive osteosarcoma that had already metastasized to his lungs. Our vet pulled up the xrays and my baby was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. I went through all the options... everything... trying to find some route that let Xur stay with us, but make sure he could have a good quality of life as well.
And then that vet had to essentially look me in my eyes and tell me there was absolutely nothing we could do for him that wouldn't make him feel a thousand times worse than he already did. Once we came to that fork in the road and we knew there was no "saving" or "improving" we asked how long we would have with him. And if shit wasn't bad enough, he again had to look me in the eyes and tell me they could give me enough meds to keep him "comfy" so we could "have the weekend" but extending it past that would be... well... not recommended.
With that devastating news... we loaded our baby in the car and brought him home and spent Thursday night through Monday morning together. We did everything we possibly could to make him comfy, shower him with affection and love, and just try to make him see how much we love him. He ate all the foods he usually doesn't get (and was a big fan of bacon), got as many cuddles as we could give (you know, the kind we could give because we had to be careful not to hurt him). He had visitors and even his Gma flew up from Florida on Sunday evening so he could spend some time with her.
By the time we were supposed to take him in on Monday, it was very clear to us why they said not to extend any longer. In a matter of three days our baby had lost even more weight (he had already lost a ridiculous amount in a small amount of time), his leg was six times the size it should have been, he could hardly move, his breathing was labored at best and he was never comfortable. Essentially, he was hurting but holding on for us.
But even with all that going on and knowing what we knew... having to make that decision is fucking haunting. No, I didn't want my baby to be hurt or sick... I wanted him to be the free-loving wild card he's always been and I wanted to cuddle him and kiss him and keep him forever. Once that option was no longer on the table... the anger, sadness, disbelief, and emptiness started rearing it's ugly head.
There are so many questions that we'll never have answers to. The fact that we are very much NOT ok with the circumstances doesn't change them. And I know everybody whose ever loved has to deal with this, it's a fact of life, but knowing that doesn't help get you through it when it's your turn.
I want my baby back. I want my grizzly bear to give me cuddles and keep me warm. I want him to get up with me first thing in the morning and wander the house and check in on things while I'm getting ready. I want to be outside with him in the dark to feel safe and I want about fourteen million more excessive kisses. I want to lay my head on his chest and burrow in.
I am not ok. My husband is not ok. And our other two babies are not ok. Xur-Xur not being with us has left a massive hole and none of us know how to fill it. I know we'll move forward together... we love each other... we're a family... but I would be lying if I said our family didn't feel a little lost and broken right now. He was the glue and the comfort and the warmth and how do you account for that when it's no longer there?
We know we did the right thing. Deep down in our bones, we know. We would never want Xur in pain and only wanted amazing things for him. He was the best pieces of both me and Dev that we had to offer the world. But knowing it was right, and coming to terms with it are completely different. We didn't want this... we wanted our baby. I still want my baby and honestly, I kind of want to crawl into a ball and cry and scream until somebody gives me my way. Except, they can't. Because no one or nothing can fix this. And that fucking sucks.
I don't know what happens from here. I don't know what our family is supposed to do or what the dynamic is or how any of this is going to work. We're all just so very lost and so fucking sad.
We all love our Xur-Xur something fierce, we'll miss him always and there will never be another pup that is like him. He was unique and had so much damn love to give. I miss him... I'll continue to miss him... our family will always love and miss him.
He may no longer be here next to us, but he's very much still here. In our minds... in our hearts. In every decision I have to make where love is involved, that's his sweet spot.
Rest easy, my big ole grizzly bear. Thank you so very much for letting me be your mama... it was the greatest gift and something I'll never be able to repay you for. You keep watching out for us and we'll continue to carry you with us until the day we come to join you. I love you so much, Bubs.