16 years ago, I had a roommate. He didn't like cats one bit, but he was often gone for days at a time. I started taking care of a neighborhood stray cat who was pregnant. She was a dedicated street cat; she didn't want to be owned by anyone, but she did want help during her pregnancy. It was the dead of winter and I let her in a lot when my roommate wasn't home.
One bitterly cold January night I just got extremely paranoid for some reason and didn't let her in. She was near her time, I knew, but there'd have been bad craziness if my roommate came home and she was inside. Still, I had gotten away with it so much...but I didn't let her in.
Well, when I woke in the morning I heard tapping at the window to my room (she came in through there often), and there was a kitten in her mouth. I let her in; of course the poor little kitten was dead. She tried to find a hidden dark place, as cats will, and was still trying to take care of the kitten. I managed to get the poor thing away from her, and set her up with a large box with some blankets in it. She had two more kittens.
When I left for work that morning (I called to say I'd be late), I found four more dead ones lying at the top of the brick stoop. I buried them all before leaving.
When I came home that night, she'd had two more. The part here that has always left me feeling guilty? My roomie didn't come home for 3 more days. It didn't have to be that way.
It even gets worse. I went out with my girlfriend of the time one night, and when I came back...she (the mama cat) had accidentally crushed the more active of the two newborns. Should she have had a bigger box?
So just one survived. He stayed with mama for the requisite 8 weeks--my girlfriend took them--and then as usual, mama cat drove the kitten away near the end of the 8. My girlfriend had named the kitten CiCi--we thought it was a girl-cat, but it became clear it was a male cat--so we renamed him Cecil. He became my cat, then, because for other reasons my girlfriend and I broke up. Mama cat I released back in her original neighborhood.
So Mike, brother, I know the feeling, and it hurts. I'm sorry.