Preggo Cat Gives Birth!

**Warning: may contain graphic images**

Preggo cat's real name is Kitty, ingeniously given to her by Taurus man when we first adopted her as a 1 month old stray. She has always been fiercely independent and is one of those cats that will accept praise when she feels like it, and show affection when she feels like it. We're guessing she must have been born around late June 2010. She does not like being kept indoors at all, and after too many escape attempts that included several jumps out of our three story high bedroom window, we agreed to let her be free where she was comfortable. She still technically lives with us though, as she has made her home on the steps by the front door leading to the garage, the steps by the unusable back door also leading to the garage, the front porch, the roof hanging below the front porch, the garage, and Cancer Grump's wood workshop downstairs. Anywho, we realized she was pregnant shortly after hubby's heart attack in April, and on May 30 she delivered 4 premie babies. Three were stillborn, but one was born a pale blue, yet breathing. She rejected all the babies and proceeded to eat them (totally normal I later learned) so I took the last kitten upstairs and followed all the instructions I could find online about premie kittens 11 o'clock in the night until he/she finally died in my arms. I don't think Kitty really knew what to do with herself pregnant. She was very reckless and tried going about her business as she normally would, but when her belly got in the way and she fell over, she would look around completely confused, and just try whatever she was doing again. She just got up and kept on going after losing her babies, but I was devastated for her. I did even more research and promised to be better prepared if she got pregnant again.

This time, we noticed she was pregnant either in August or September (it feels like forever), when my morning sickness was being a total bitch and I was constantly sick. We waited and waited and waited. And waited. Finally, around 3AM on November 9th, Taurus man insisted that I get dressed and go with him to drive around looking for somewhere that would be open for him to get something to eat. Standing by the car, I shushed him and told him to listen. Yes, I was hearing little squeaks! "Do we have kitties?" I excitedly asked.

Taurus man put on the flashlight on his fancy phone and pointed it in every direction as we tried to figure out where the noise was coming from. He instructed me to wait by the steps as he headed down the deep flight of stairs with one banister leading into the basement/wood-workshop. Halfway down he turned around and grinned "Yes, we do have kittens."

I squealed and carefully made my way down as he guided me with the light (because like in my last post as you know, I'm so delicate and fragile *rolls eyes*) We climbed into an area right below the water tanks and found Kitty lying on her side on the concrete, covered in dust, mud, and dirt, and moaning, with one black kitten searching for a nipple. She was still in the process of birthing a kitten. I heard the squeals again and we found a second black kitten had wriggled himself about three feet away.

I sent Taurus Man upstairs for the tub with newspapers and an old towel I had put together half-assedly just for this moment and used the dim light of my crappy old phone (which is much easier to understand than Taurus man's newfangled technological devices) to talk to Kitty. I had read about some laboring cats not wanting to be disturbed, and others becoming very aggressive. I wasn't sure how Kitty felt so I stayed back and talked to her to play it safe. She reached out both paws and moaned softly so I touched her paws first, and as she closed her paws around my fingers, I reached out to stroke her face. She purred happily, so I rearranged myself to pet her and talk to her soothingly for as long as it took.

Thankfully, Taurus Man returned quickly with the tub and a pillowcase for me to use to pick up the stranded black kitten. It is common knowledge that touching newborn kittens can alter the scent the mother cat will pick up from them and she may reject them or eat them, so I didn't want to touch them. I pushed my hand in the pillowcase and petted Kitty for awhile, to get her scent on it, and then picked up the stranded black kitten and guided him to a nipple.

Kitty continued moaning and crying and Taurus Man quickly realized that the kitten she was birthing was not moving and was coming out feet first. As I looked closely, I realized the kitten was still in its sac and was already turning blue, with its head stuck in the birth canal. Taurus Man quickly suggested that I help Kitty through the birth if the kitten had any chance of survival, and helped me position myself to assist Kitty.

Before I continue, I just want to state that I although I saw my first birthing video at the age of 5 and continue to watch them in my spare time, I had never witnessed a live birth in person, whether human or animal. I had done extensive research on cat labor so I wouldn't be completely clueless, but all the sites I checked insisted that Kitty would instinctively know what to do and if there were any complications, the sites insisted that I would psychically predict that and already be at the vet's office. Vet visits in this crappy ass third-world country run into hundreds of dollars, plus vaccinations and emergency treatments turn costs into thousands of dollars. The majority of vets never have the medication or vaccinations they need on hand. There's a better chance driving for two and a half hours to get to the other side of the country (aka the rich people area) and paying three times the price to get the kind of vet people in the States take for granted. And at three in the morning, we would have more luck finding Bigfoot than getting a vet to help us. So, even though I've seen tons of videos and read tons of books, on the inside I was beyond paralyzed with fear.

So I petted Kitty, talked soothingly to her, put my brave I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing face on, and placed one hand on Kitty's tummy, and the other hand under the blue kitten. Pressing gently on her tummy, I glided my hand downwards and with every "unh" moan from her, I slowly pulled the kitten out until the head was out and I left it up to Kitty to push out the placenta. As soon as the head was out, Kitty reached for my hands and purred again, and promptly fell asleep.

It is common knowledge that male cats attack and kill kittens, especially the males, viewing them as a threat. As the first two kittens seemed black, we guessed that a local black cat with white feet was the father. As he has a history for attacking Kitty, despite reading that laboring cats should not be moved, we decided that neither Kitty nor her babies would be safe, especially in the condition of her birthing environment and vulnerability it left them. Using the pillowcase and the guidance of Taurus Man's light, I first picked up the black kittens, one by one, and then Kitty and the third kitten together and placed them all in the tub. Taurus Man picked up the tub and handed me the light as I guided us back upstairs.

Once we were under the proper light upstairs, we saw that the third kitten had orange striped fur and his face and paws were completely blue. Kitty had pushed out his placenta and was almost through birthing the fourth kitten, also orange. Taurus Man suggested that I burst the sac myself and start cleaning the stillborn baby. I ripped off a piece of the sash on my bathrobe and dipped it in warm water (the material and water is supposed to mimic the mother's tongue), pinching the sac as Taurus Man burst it with a fork and I continued cleaning the baby in the opposite direction of fur growth as I had read, hoping the rubbing would stimulate the baby. By this time, the fourth kitten was completely out and Kitty was already pushing out a fifth orange kitten on top of the fourth. Taurus Man took over with the third kitten and started rubbing his back as I burst the sac on the fourth kitten and started cleaning him, then placed him by a nipple and waited for Kitty to take over. The fifth kitten came out just as quickly as the fourth and his sac was already broken. Kitty tried to sit up to reach him and fell back down panting. I picked up the fifth kitten with the same sash and placed him near a nipple, within Kitty's reach.

Like a pro, Kitty's instincts told her what to do. Between occasional naps and panting, she finished cleaning all five kittens and ate all the placentas. We could not revive the stillborn kitten unfortunately, and even Kitty's instincts couldn't help. Once the remaining four kittens had nursed/were latched on, and Kitty seemed to be at ease, we moved the tub from the hall/living room table to our bedroom. I waited a few hours afterwards and then changed the bloody bedding to clean towels. Kitty seemed to be okay other than being exhausted and overheated. She licked herself clean and was on her feet by morning (I say morning as in daylight here).

Kitty seemed to thrive from attention and began acting a bit baby-ish herself, stretching out her paws to play with my face or rolling from side to side and smiling as I rubbed her tummy or sides. She can't get enough attention. She's a total diva and she definitely deserves to be. By the second day, one of the orange kittens had crawled along the bedding and pulled himself to the edge, almost falling over. I caught him and placed him near Kitty and then started panicking because I touched the newborn kitten. I had to wait a few hours for the internet to start working (in this country, rain and internet cannot exist at the same time) and googled "touching newborn kittens" (or something to that effect). I read about 20-30 pages before Taurus Man assured me it was not the end of the world. Kitty was nursing all of her babies and had showed no signs of rejecting them. There were sites that encouraged touching the kittens as soon as they were born, and others suggesting waiting three weeks. Everyone has their own opinion, and I respect that. Taurus Man picked up one of the kittens and cuddled him as Kitty looked on. She meowed a bit, but didn't fuss otherwise. He encouraged me to pick up one as well and when I did (my hormones have subjected me to peer pressure THAT easily), Kitty reacted the same way. I held my kitten for a bit longer and eventually, Kitty got up and came over to meow in my face in a very that's-my-baby-not-yours kind of way. I quickly put down the kitten and moved the tub to the ground next to a nightstand to give them some space.

Yesterday, there was an infestation of red biting ants in the room and when I looked at the tub, I saw it was 3/4 filled with ants. I have seen a kitten being eaten by ants before, so I picked up and dusted off each kitten before doing the same to Kitty, and blocked off a little area in the bed to keep them with me. They stayed with me for the two-three hours Taurus Man left to play football and I got no aggression from Kitty. The kittens were three days old and crawling already, and figured out how to crawl up and over the bedding, so I moved them back to the center or brought them to snuggle up to me or Kitty and Kitty was fine with that. I've noticed that Kitty is more comfortable with me handling the kittens than Taurus Man, yet she prefers Taurus Man's attention on her over mine. Seriously speaking, she will drop whatever she's doing, including nursing her babies, and run over to Taurus Man every time he enters the room to be petted.

All the kitties and I drifted in and out of sleep until Taurus Man came home. I insisted on leaving them there with me and at some point in time, Taurus Man fixed the ants problem, moved the kitties, and either moved me or convinced me to rotate myself from my upside down position in bed. All I know is, I woke up at 3AM feeling like I was on another planet with all the kitties sleeping in their tub next to the nightstand, and me lying down right-side up next to sleeping hubby. I have no idea when I went to sleep or how I had slept through so much of the day and night. I brought the kitties back on the bed and Mama Kitty happily thrived under my affection and at some point, we all fell asleep again. Seriously you guys, I may never need sleeping pills or antidepressants again.

The kittens are now four days old, crawling, wriggling, and squeaking like pros, and Kitty is the proudest, most efficient mama I've ever seen. We're sure the black male cat with white feet is the father of the first two black kittens. One of the kittens resembles Kitty with her spots of color and has the most beautiful mark on his forehead. The other is black with white feet like his dad, and also has a white underbelly. The other two kittens (and the one that didn't make it) are all orange-stripey with white effects here and there so I suspect the neighbor's orange-striped and white cat (Kitty's favorite playmate) of being their father, since cats can be fertilized by more than one partner.

Everyone seems to be doing great and I'm swollen with pride every time Kitty does something mama-like. I, however, am so drowsy I might fall over the side of the bed if I don't lie down soon. With that said, good night, and hear are some kitty pics: