A day in the life at the Gleason Zoo

In an attempt to make my entire body stop hurting, my headache go away, and just plain get out of the house, I have decided to undertake the daunting task of teaching a 4 year old to fish.  Ken's dad lives right on a quiet lake chock full of crappie, bluegill, walleye and bass.  Wrangling her should be interesting, wrangling Hunter should be a downright chore.  We plan to bring his playpen and I will set it up near the campfire area, which is about 10 feet from the dock.  I will honestly have to put something in it to weigh it down, or actually bungee the darn thing to one of the small pine trees, because Hunter can rock the thing so hard, he can actually tip it right over!  I hope he is patient with us, and enjoys the views outside with toys so we have some time to catch some stuff.  Our success today really depends on his mood.  Ken will be on the roof, so he wont be able to be much help. I am fluctuating between hating my life immensely and hating...

The world is still spinning, the house is still running, and the kids are still being turkeys.  Nothing has stopped just because my daughter has passed away.  I would like nothing more than to climb under a rock and let the world go on without me, but that just isn't possible.  I'm really hoping that once I finally bring her home that I can move on, knowing she is here. It isn't just the emotional toll, it's the physical toll as well.  The last month of pregnancy was not nice to me.  I was swollen, hurting, and having several panic attacks daily.  I just pushed through, knowing that I just had to get her through another month, and she would have a fighting chance.  ONE MONTH.  Four weeks. 30 more days.  That is all she would have needed.  Would it have been a long shot?  Absolutely.  The fact that she didn't even get the chance to try?  It isn't fair. The physical toll is horrible.  I have a terrible headache that...

We found out that our tiny daughter, Rosie was going to be born sleeping on Monday, August 4th, 2014.  This is the second miscarriage we have had in two years, though this is the first one that baby was far enough along to actually deliver. The induction was scheduled for the next day at the Birthing Center.  We arrived promptly at 7 a.m.  The lady behind the desk was very prompt at getting things in order and us to our room.  Good for me, because there was a tiny newborn sleeping in a bassinet right behind her.  Talk about a knife to the gut.  She led us back to our room, at the end of one of the wings.  I think they did that purposefully to keep us away from the babies, which was appreciated.  I noticed as I walked in that there was a little sign to the right of a leaf on a purple background with a drop of water on it.  That was there to alert those walking in that we were delivering a stillborn. She walked us in and gave instructions, ...

I don't know why it is that when things start to get rough, I turn to my blog, but it seems to be the one way to get things out that I just plain don't want on Facebook or don't have the courage to say aloud. This pregnancy had been full of questions, fear and uncertainty.  When I look back on it, I shouldn't be surprised that it didn't come to fruition.  Many of my appointments were discouraging and I left the hospital several times convinced that we had come to the end, but for some reason, Rosie hung on. My last ultrasound convinced me all was certainly  not well, even though my OB didn't wholeheartedly agree, though he did refer me to a perinatologist.  More, I think, to calm me down.  You see, when I first saw Rosie's heartbeat, it was 179.  Perfectly acceptable for 8 weeks.  She measured a day big.  All was well. I had a bit of bleeding between appointments, and went to the ER, where I was assured that I was possibly miscarrying. ...