When my Scottish Fold cat, Miso, reached the final days of her pregnancy, I could feel her growing more restless and needy. She followed me from room to room, kneading soft blankets and giving me long, meaningful stares—almost as if she was asking, “Are you ready? Because I think it’s almost time.” I prepared her birthing area days in advance: a quiet corner with clean towels, soft bedding, and a warm lamp to make her feel safe.
On the evening it happened, Miso climbed into the nesting box and let out a low, rumbling meow. She paced, circled, and dug into the blankets, her instincts guiding her. I sat nearby on the floor with everything ready—clean towels, a heating pad set on low, scissors and thread just in case, and my vet’s phone number on standby.
The first contraction took her by surprise. She pressed her forehead against my hand, breathing fast, her little body trembling with effort. I whispered calming words and stroked her ears as each wave of pain passed. After a few minutes, she pushed harder, and soon I saw a tiny, fluid-filled sac emerge. With one final push, the first kitten slipped out, meowing weakly. Miso immediately broke the sac, cleaned the kitten thoroughly, and nudged it toward her belly to nurse. Seeing her natural instincts take over was incredible—she knew exactly what to do.
The next two kittens arrived more quickly, each one bringing a mix of relief and excitement. I gently wiped them dry and made sure they were breathing clearly, but Miso handled most of the work like the devoted mother she was. Between deliveries, she would look up at me with tired eyes, as if asking for reassurance that she was doing well.
The fourth kitten took the longest, but after a strong push, the final baby arrived safely. Miso lay back, exhausted yet calm, surrounded by four tiny miracles nuzzling into her warm fur.
Helping her through the birth taught me how beautiful and fragile these moments are. With patience, preparation, and love, we welcomed four healthy kittens into the world—together.
