Our girl is getting bigger every day. She weighs in at 9 lbs, 10 oz and is in the 75th%ile for length. However, when her height and weight are compared, she’s a string bean like her brother and is barely on the charts. She loves to eat and sleeps well at night in 3 to 4 hour stretches. Sleeping during the day is another story, but again, she’s just like her brother. She might nap for 10 minutes and be ready to party again. She cries a good deal more than Tyler did, but she’s probably just trying be heard in this chatty family!
Salem was officially two months old on Wednesday (which means Christmas was one month ago…!) I tried to take photos of her in the basket that day. Five times. She would not cooperate. I snapped a few this morning when she tends to be at her mellowest.
Since she was really snuggled down in there, here are a few shots of her stretched out, and you can see her face in the bouncy seat. I adore this penguin sleeper, and strangely enough we have two of them from two different hand-me-down bags.
About the only skills Salem has acquired are smiling and batting those delicious eyes. Here is a short clip of her being darn cute. We love you, Salem Elizabeth!
Salem was baptized on Sunday, December 11 at Mt. Hope Lutheran Church in Boulder. It’s the church where Eric grew up before he moved to Oklahoma, and Eric’s parents still know some members of the congregation. So, just as Tyler was baptized there, we had Salem baptized at Mt. Hope as well.
We are honored to have Katie and Mike Flood as the godparents of Tyler, and they happily agreed to be Salem’s godparents, too. It is so fun to watch our children grow up together!
Since Eric wore a blazer, I dressed Tyler up in an adorable BabyGap velvet blazer I got off of Facebook.
Salem wore the baptismal gown from Eric’s side of the family that is almost 100 years old.
The gown is from Grandma Holle’s side of the family and all of her grandchildren have worn it as well as dozens more.
Pastor Adam made Salem cry, but just a little bit and less than Tyler did when it was his turn two and a half years ago.
A Lutheran baptism is part of an otherwise regular service, so at one point Pastor Adam called up children to the altar for a blessing. To our surprise (well, not really) Tyler willingly walked up there on his own. And let Pastor Adam hold him while he spoke!
Tyler sat between Mike and Katie at the service and was an angel the entire time. He is such a funny kid that way.
It was so wonderful to have the Holles here from Arizona for Salem’s baptism. We all went out to breakfast afterwards to celebrate!
The bump in Katie’s belly is Salem’s new BFF, Anna.
Anna Hope was born on January 12. That makes our “little sisters” barely seven weeks apart. We visited Anna again when she was one week old and snapped these cute photos.
Last week, the whole family came down with illness. I won’t go into detail, but this illness prevented me from absorbing or retaining any calories. Which is nice to kick-start a diet I guess, but terrible when you are breastfeeding. I NEED all the calories I can get, and being ill and dehydrated on the couch can really impact a girl’s milk supply.
Fortunately, I bounced back in a day or so, but my milk was noticeably less than what it had been. I honestly started to panic just a bit because I’d never had to play milk catch-up with Tyler. I texted my neighbor Leigh, who is fabulous and a mom and knows all the non-medical/crunchy/Boulderite things to do to help with such an issue. Of course, she immediately texted me back suggesting Mother’s Milk Tea (which is nasty, in case you’ve never tried it) and fenugreek pills. But also, The List of holy foods to eat to increase your milk supply.
Water, oatmeal, easy. No nuts for me (allergic). Fennel? I just saw a Food Network guru using fennel (OK fine it was Rachael Ray) and thought, hey, I should really get into fennel. It’s definitely one of those foods that when I come to it in a recipe, I just turn the page. You know, one of those items that other people apparently stock but I just never have, so I’m unfamiliar with it, like fish sauce, gochujang, leeks, or amaranth.
I decided to make a soup with fennel, carrots, garlic, and ginger. It’s not a true refrigerator surprise since I did have to buy the fennel, ginger, and carrots (I wanted real carrots, not the flavorless midgets I buy for Eric’s lunches). But I really did just make it up as I went along and it turned out amazing! I served it for lunch when my friend Jeana came up to visit since she’s a breastfeeding gal too. She wanted the recipe, so here it is.
Milk Soup…It’s The Tits!
1 32 oz carton chicken stock
1 fennel bulb, quartered and thinly sliced (I had to Pinterest How to Cut Fennel), save the fronds for garnish
3 medium carrots, sliced
1/2 med onion, roughly diced
2 garlic cloves (I used a garlic press)
about 2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
fresh ginger to grate
1 Tbsp butter
salt and pepper
First, melt butter in a stockpot on medium. Add fennel, carrots, and onion, season with salt and pepper, and cook until carrots begin to soften. If more liquid is needed, add a splash of olive oil. After a few minutes, add lemon juice and pressed garlic cloves. Cook one minute. Add chicken stock. Allow to heat through and simmer for as long as needed. While soup simmers, I made 3/4 cup Jasmine rice in my rice cooker (so helpful for making grains at altitude!) Shortly before serving, grate some ginger into the soup (maybe 2 tsp). Serve soup by scooping one portion of rice into a bowl, and covering with soup. Garnish heavily with fennel fronds (Pinterest said think of them like dill.) Makes 4 servings.
You could make this vegetarian by using vegetable stock or Paleo by omitting the rice.
My milk supply seems to be increasing, so I would say this soup is a keeper. Salem agrees.
Today Tyler is 29 months old, so in honor of this momentous occasion I will share about Tyler’s 2nd birthday, 5 months ago. We held his party in late August because we had a variety of things going on earlier in the month, like a trip up to the mountains to hike, fish, and hang out at the pool at the Ritz. Don’t worry, we celebrated on his actual birthday, August 7th, with a donut in the minivan in the carpool lot waiting for some friends.
At the end of August my parents came to town to be here for Tyler’s birthday party. Tyler was SO excited for his Baseball Party!
His tshirt was made especially for him by my old friend Laura, who runs the delightful Etsy shop RubyRedHandmade. My mom had the brilliant idea to blow up a bunch of balloons for the kids to hit around, which they loved.
We ate ballgame food including peanuts, nachos, soft pretzels, and hot dogs with Stadium Mustard, naturally.
We asked our guests to dress in baseball gear. It was fun to see different teams represented.
Tyler was elated to blow out his candle. The “2” candle is from when Eric took me on a surprise getaway for my birthday when I turned 28. He had somehow managed to sneak an entire cake into the desert on our camping trip, with “2” and “8” candles. That may have been when I knew I should marry this guy.
Tyler is a frosting-licker. I don’t know if he’s ever eaten the cake part. (Or “sponge” as they call it on Food Network!)
Of course we played lots of baseball in our backyard!
I had only taken one basket photo since Tyler turned one, when he was 18 months old. I thought it would be fun to take them yearly from here on out–I can just see him at age 16, with one foot in and one foot out! He wasn’t too keen on the idea but as you can see, he still technically fits in the basket.
The Baseball Party was a hit and Tyler asked to have another one many, many times afterwards. His love of baseball continues to grow. He received a t-ball set as a gift and can literally hit balls over the fence. He always wants to play catch in the house. And we noticed this fall that he pitches the ball with a windup and a leg kick–we can only figure that he learned this from watching so much baseball on TV. It’s awesome and adorable.
I can’t believe he’s two. The year went by so quickly. And I still haven’t even made him a photo book to remember it by.
We had a photographer come to our house the weekend after Salem was born for some newborn and family photos. Eric spent the night before teaching Tyler the difference between his “cheese face” and “smile.” Tyler (mostly) figured it out. Salem was very awake for a 9-day-old baby. We love them (the photos, and our kids)!
We did it. We brought home Baboo #2. She’s amazing. We absolutely cannot believe we have a girl. We thought we’d have another boy. I put Tyler’s newborn clothes in the dresser, awaiting baby boy’s arrival. I was going to be a #boymom. I was ready for a life of baseball and bugs and stinky socks and (gladly) without Shopkins, princesses, and Justice. Yes, I know that boys can play with Shopkins and girls can have stinky socks…but still. Boys and girls ARE different.
We hardly thought about whether Tyler would be a boy or a girl. With him, I had initially really wanted a girl, but early on we kind of just felt like the baby was a boy. This was probably because I was huge and every person we met said it was a boy. And he was. And it never mattered one bit, because we would eventually/hopefully have another baby, so we just didn’t think too much about it.
But this baby, our second and most, most likely final baby–I thought about whether our baby would be a boy or a girl often. Not constantly, but often. I didn’t have a preference, really, but felt like our family dynamics would be different whether the baby was a boy or a girl. Both good, of course, but different. And we thought we’d have another boy.
Except for a couple of dreams I had. I had dreams–intense, vivid dreams that I only had while trying or being pregnant…I never remember my dreams otherwise–after each round of IUI. Three predicted I wasn’t pregnant (I wasn’t) and one predicted I was (I was!). And then somewhere in the middle of this pregnancy I had two incredibly vivid dreams that the baby was a girl. In both dreams, I was actively giving birth and the baby came out–a girl! And in both dreams, I asked the doctor to put the baby back in! I don’t know why I became subconsciously averse to having a girl. When people asked what I thought the baby would be, I said boy and said sorry to the baby if she was, in fact, a girl. I think we both just got so comfortable in raising Tyler that we wanted another one of him and were scared of anybody different–girl or boy.
But here she is. Beautiful, lovely, strong, amazing, perfect Salem Elizabeth. We can’t imagine life without her. Her brother adores her and she will grow up with a family who loves her no matter what. Even if she insists on shopping at Justice.
Baboo #2 was due November 28th. I was blissfully confident I would make it to my due date–after all, Tyler was three days late. Salem arrived three days early, which was more than excellent after a somewhat interesting third trimester.
Back in September, my fundal measurement–the superscientific measurement of your pregnant belly from pubic bone to top of the uterus using a tape measure–was small. Normally, your centimeters match your weeks pregnant. But all of a sudden I was measuring almost four centimeters smaller than I should have. I wasn’t alarmed–after all, the way they do it seems kind of ridiculous, I felt fine, and our 20 week ultrasound showed baby growing on track. But the OB wanted another ultrasound, so we happily obliged. We learned that our baby was pretty small, particularly the baby’s head–it was in the 3rd percentile. The OB sent us to see a specialist for a more in-depth ultrasound. She wanted to confirm the baby was growing and it wasn’t a case of IUGR, intrauterine growth restriction. Or Zika. What was happening?! We stayed positive and tried not to think too much about it. There was nothing we could do about it. But the OB told us if they did suspect IUGR the baby would be delivered at 34 weeks. Which was a week after we received this news. It was a tad unsettling to say the least.
Fortunately, the next ultrasound both confirmed our baby had a tiny head and also that there was no growth concern, and it was overwhelmingly likely that we would just have a proportionally smallish baby with a dainty noggin. Tyler’s head has always measured below the 10th percentile, and I can fit a child’s XS ski helmet on my cranium, so it follows that our baby had a genetically small head. Because of my “advanced maternal age” (I don’t remember getting old, BTW) I would receive weekly ultrasounds for the remainder of my pregnancy. Baby’s head continued to be small–at the very end, we were down in the 1st percentile. But still, we were told not to worry, so we didn’t.
We enjoyed a wedding weekend in Cincinnati.
We enjoyed a beautiful weekend in Aspen.
We had our 9th(?) Annual Fall Fest with our friends in Winter Park.
We hosted a kid-friendly Holleween Party in lieu of our traditional Happy Holledays ugly sweater party. I came across an adorable dragon costume for Tyler, so naturally Eric and I went as Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen. Because I’m the Mother of Dragons, obviously.
During the World Series, my blood pressure went up. A couple of nights I thought I might deliver right there on our couch. But that passed and I was still pregnant and we were still banking on November 28th, the Monday after Thanksgiving. I had the week of Thanksgiving off from school, and I really wanted to enjoy it with Tyler and getting ready for the holidays. And for the most part, I did. Salem’s birth story, coming soon!
Our sweet little second-born arrived on November 25th, 2016. Here is the long (and not-too-graphic) story of her birth.
We started off Thanksgiving day with the Louisville Turkey Trot–a wonderful, free 5k that is all about collecting food and clothing and spending time as a community. It was a gorgeous, sunny morning albeit quite windy.
We planned to walk the 5k, and I felt great. But I was also feeling some internal pressure, for lack of a better word, so we actually took a shortcut and walked a tad more slowly back to town. I didn’t think anything of it and was ready to enjoy our big turkey dinner over at Matt and Molly’s house. We went, we ate, we conquered, we didn’t take any photos. We went home full and were glad to have the next three days off to spend with Tyler.
The next morning, Friday, I woke up feeling…something. But nothing alarming. My favorite yoga teacher instructs the 9:15 Friday morning class at the rec center, and I was determined to go because I knew it would be the last time I could for a few weeks. All three of us went to the rec and we dropped Tyler off at the daycare there. I went and placed my mat in class, but came back to find Eric and tell him, “I think we’re going to have a baby today!” He was taken aback (obviously!) but I assured him I’d be fine for awhile.
I actually felt painless contractions during yoga, but know that these things supposedly take awhile. (And also that we were warned to get to the hospital sooner rather than later because Tyler came quite quickly.) I finished the class, and we got home about 10:30am. I told Eric he needed to make the calls to get Tyler taken care of, and that I would call the hospital. I had a few more contractions with a pain level of zero. And then, as I was putting the final items in my bag and Eric was waiting with Tyler in the driveway for his ride, I had a BIG contraction. Pain level of 7. And then 8. We almost took Tyler to the hospital with us because it was happening too fast. I called my parents to let them know I was in labor. Our friends came for Tyler (and I was crying about leaving him). And then we drove to the hospital, and didn’t get pulled over this time.
We parked and I walked in, and we were up in our room in just a few minutes. I was doubled over with pain. It was 11:25am. The nurse tossed me a gown and Eric must have helped me change because I don’t remember that. All of that stuff we brushed up on in Labor Lab to ease the pain and pass the time went out the window. I was 6 cm. I demanded an epidural. Fortunately, the anaesthesiologist was there almost right away. But something happened, we’re not sure what, we heard them talking about an equipment failure. The anaesthesiologist said it didn’t work because I moved. Anyhow, I didn’t get an epidural. But thankfully, oh so thankfully, they gave me a spinal. My contractions were so much more than a 10. Through the roof. I calmed down with the spinal, maybe a little too much, because Eric said my eyes were rolling back in my head and they gave me oxygen. Somewhere in there my water broke.
And then they said I had to push. Now. What?! I just got here. It was tough, mentally and physically. I was terrified because I didn’t have an epidural and was also totally out of it. I couldn’t wrap my brain around what I needed to do. But Eric is the World’s Best Cheerleader and got me to push. It all just happened so fast. Completely unromantic and totally undignified. But all of a sudden–at 12:37pm–there she was. SHE. She. A girl!
I think I was laughing. I know I didn’t cry like I did with Tyler. We were thrilled and in disbelief. Among my first thoughts was What are we going to name her? Because that had been contentious for our whole pregnancy. We had finally agreed upon a name for a boy who we suddenly didn’t have, but for a girl we wanted different names. Elizabeth for a middle name was a given as it’s also mine. Eric was flexible; there were several names he was rooting for. But for me there was only one name. I had seen it on the screen at church months ago, before we were even pregnant, but I knew if I ever had a daughter that I would love for that word to be her name.
She didn’t have a name for an hour or so. The nurses came and went doing their checking and measuring and administering, and we called her Baby Girl. Eventually we were alone with our daughter. Eric looked at me and said, “Mama, what’s her name?” I was nervous and happy and sad and I said, “For me, there’s only one name. Salem Elizabeth.” And Eric said, “OK. She’s Salem Elizabeth.” And then I cried, because I was so, so happy to have our healthy daughter here with us, and her name would be Salem Elizabeth. Salem means “peace” in Hebrew and I think it’s perfect. Her arrival brings us peace after a difficult time of not knowing whether we would ever have another baby.
Of course, Eric pointed out before she was born that Salem also refers to glamorous things like cigarettes and witch trials. I just figured we could tell people the origin of her name if they asked, and assumed that they wouldn’t think we actually named our daughter after a tobacco product or a terrible time in American history.
Salem was born 11/25/16, the day after Thanksgiving, on Black Friday. She weighed 7 lbs 5 oz and measured 20″ long. She was born one hour and twelve minutes after we checked into the hospital; two hours and seven minutes after I left yoga.
Tyler wasn’t so sure about her in the hospital.
We took her home when she was 27 hours old, beating Tyler’s record by five hours.
I remember taking Tyler home and Eric driving about 10 mph and me sitting in the backseat trying not to freak out. This time, when we clicked the carseat into the van, we realized I couldn’t sit next to her because Tyler’s carseat was in the other captain’s seat. So I sat up front like a grown-up and Eric drove the speed limit, and then we were home. Just like that. And Tyler came around!