Fighting, Losing, and Letting Go

I woke up around my usual time today and began by feeding Jezebel. Once she was taken care of, I found my clothes for the day and got dressed. Then it was time for tarot. As I shuffled my Momento deck, five cards jumped from my hands and landed on the floor. I set the rest of the deck back into its box and chose one from the fallen cards—The Door. A card of new opportunities, growth, and the chance to step forward into something new. I hoped it would be true for the day ahead.

Opportunity knocks. transition. passageway. the other side. spirit realm. positive or negative. state of mind.

With that, I moved on to editing and publishing yesterday’s blog post before checking the weather. Clear skies meant things could carry on as planned. Dameion was close to finishing the new chicken area, so I decided to let him focus there today. Dinner was already planned, and the girls’ schoolwork was quickly set up. With their folders ready, I started building my Walmart cart for today’s order—though I still had about an hour before I could place it.

Next, I began my cleaning rounds, aiming for a deeper clean in the rooms I could get to. In between tasks, I took a moment to feed my sourdough starter. Once Walmart’s delivery window opened, I placed my order for express delivery.

It was during these rounds that I went in to give Jezebel another bottle—only to find her down. I grabbed my thermometer and my heart sank—her temperature was below 100 degrees. I rushed to reorganize her space so I could set up a heater at her kennel and start warming her. The next few hours would be critical. I checked on her every 10 minutes, keeping her on her feet and trying to get fluids into her. Soon, Dameion came in and began administering a breathing treatment in hopes of clearing her lungs. She improved a little, but not enough for comfort.

Breakfast—planned as bacon omelets—was canceled. Every 5–10 minutes, one of us had to be with Jezebel, making sure she stayed warm, standing, and hydrated. A steam shower was set for naptime. After reluctantly eating cereal, the girls cleaned their room. By then, I had managed to finish and bug spray the bathroom.

The girls then listened to their book, watched a video about the upcoming meteor shower, colored a big letter “Z,” and began working on their flashcards. Soon it was lunch and nap time for them.

During nap, I took a short rest while Dameion kept up the fight to keep Jezebel warm and moving. It was already taking a heavy toll on us both. Charlie set a batch of bread to rise in the oven.

When the girls woke, they colored more, watched some TV, and played with their blocks. Meanwhile, the adults scrambled to make omelets for their dinner while also prepping and planning an oxygen chamber for Jezebel.

Jezebelle

Once the girls were fed and back in their room, we moved Jezebel into the living room to keep working with her. Wrapped in towels and blankets with a heating pad beneath her, she still fought hypothermia. Charlie was building the oxygen chamber while Dameion suctioned mucus from her mouth. And then, despite everything, we lost her.

Our hearts are broken. All signs point to lungworm, coupled with aspiration pneumonia.

Everyone came to say their goodbyes before she was taken to her final resting place. Today was hard—one of the hardest we’ve faced—and I don’t think I’ll be doing babies again for a while. To make matters worse, I can’t reach the person we got her from.

The Door—a passage into the spirit realm. This morning, I thought it meant new beginnings, maybe even hope. Tonight, it feels like it opened only to take her away. I’m so tired. So tired of fighting and losing. I just want to give up. I don’t know how many more of these I can take. The animals still need me, the farm still needs me, but right now, I don’t feel like I have anything left to give.