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.
My handsome men.
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.
Proud Grandpa and Grandma Holle.
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.
Our family of 4.
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.
Whispering secrets already.Kickin’ it.Yay! We’re friends!Come play with me again soon, Salem!
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
olive oil
salt and pepper
Jasmine rice
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!
Eric turned our backyard into Wrigley Field.Tyler helped Nana bake cupcakes.I frosted them into baseballs!
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!
Family photo. At this point my Indians shirts didn’t quite fit, so I had to go Cubs.Nana & Grandpa
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 stayed with dear old college friends Jen & Mark, and their son Ryan.It was so fun to see these two shaggy blondes play together!Playing in the fountains at Washington Park.It was SO HOT and SO HUMID, especially for September. Thanks, Ohio, for always showing Eric your finest weather qualities.We had beers at MadTree and the boys played cornhole. We visited more breweries and hiked in the park. We played wiffleball and Eric hit Jen in the neck with a ball.The Moses came out to play, too!My tiny taster as I was still pregnant.Graeter’s ice cream, of course. We also had Skyline!OU girls: Jen, Mandy, Rebecca, and me. At this time, six kids between us all but only two made the photo.And Nick & Lauren’s wedding reception at the National Underground Railroad Freedom Museum was gorgeous.Last flight as a family of three.
We enjoyed a beautiful weekend in Aspen.
The Maroon Bells and bright yellow aspens. SUCH a perfect fall day!Family hike. The previous day it had been snowing so we really lucked out.Lilly is still going strong.Throwing rocks in bodies of water is always a winner for Tyler.
We had our 9th(?) Annual Fall Fest with our friends in Winter Park.
We stayed in a wonderful house with the Floods, Taylors, and Smiths. Tyler approved.The three pregnant hikers!Once again we lucked out on weather (late October in Fraser could mean snow) and went for an easy hike. There was a small stream that we crossed by tossing the kids over. Literally, in the air. Nobody got wet.
Tyler showing Burke the way at the park. There was a also a skatepark where Tyler was obsessed with watching kids skateboard.Girls talking, probably about babies. A really nice, relaxing weekend with excellent food overall. Even though the hot tub was broken!
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.
My sun-and-stars.
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.
Mommy! What the heck is going on?!Last photo as a family of three!
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.
“Pensive.” “I was going for thoughtful.” Name that movie.
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.
His tshirt says One Cool Bro but he refused to take his jacket off.
We took her home when she was 27 hours old, beating Tyler’s record by five hours.
Going home in the gender-neutral duck outfit that was Tyler’s.
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!
You may or may not recall, or may have never known, that we did fertility with Tyler, our firstborn Baboo Monkey. You can read about his story here and here. Many people, friends and friends-of-friends alike, contacted us with questions about the whole crazy process, and we welcomed it. I felt like being able to somehow help others made our difficulties getting pregnant all worth it. And in the end, doing one round of IUI to conceive Tyler was NOT that big of a deal.
Fast forward to wanting another baby. We always knew we wanted two, or three, but definitely more than one. Eric is only 18 months apart from his brother AND his sister, and I’m 26 months older than my brother. Did you know to have kids 18 months apart you’re actually pregnant when your baby is about EIGHT MONTHS old? Reality check!
We went to the fertility clinic in April of 2015, when Tyler was about 8 months old. We were told we couldn’t proceed with any treatment until I was finished breastfeeding because of the drugs involved. I was slightly crushed, being anxious to grow our family, but also resolute to continue nursing Tyler for a much, much longer time than 8 months (we had a good thing going–lucky us). In retrospect, I’m very glad we couldn’t begin trying again, yet, at that time. I ended up switching teaching jobs that summer, and things would have been complicated if not impossible had I been pregnant. So, phew.
I began weaning Tyler when I went back to work that fall, nursing him only morning and night. It seemed as if we could have managed that forever, but the desire for another baby was growing and I really didn’t want to be a Boulder Mom nursing a kindergartner. So, I picked a busy week at work and nursed Tyler for the last time at the end of October. He was 14 1/2 months old. It was much harder for me than for him. But I felt better knowing we were headed back to Conceptions as soon as my cycle allowed.
As it turned out, we got the green light for IUI on Eric’s birthday, November 10th…which was the same day we conceived Tyler two years earlier! How could this not work out? Our kids could have the same birthday! Well, it didn’t. We took a pregnancy test an hour before we flew to Chicago for Thanksgiving, it was negative, and that was that.
Repeat scenario in December. IUI Round #2. We took a pregnancy test the day before we flew to Tucson for Christmas. It was negative, and that was that. Both of these rounds, I just had a feeling I wasn’t pregnant. I felt crampy and different and had dreams about not being pregnant. But since we were only allowed/recommended to do three rounds of IUI before moving on to IVF, I just figured it would HAVE to work out by the third round in January. I cried in church one Sunday before Christmas and a stranger came up to me and said that whatever was wrong, it would all be fine next year. I believed her, because I had to.
Except Southwest Airlines cancelled our flight home from Tucson and we had to stay an extra two days in Arizona. Which meant I missed a blood test back at the clinic, and therefore we couldn’t do IUI in January. Which was partially devastating but also partly a relief to not have to think about it for a month. And, the situation allowed me to drink on New Year’s Eve and make the clouded decision to sign up for a marathon in May. I was betting that if I spent the money on a race, I’d definitely get pregnant and not be able to run it.
We did Round #3 in February, a week before my birthday. It HAD to work because it was our last chance. I even had an extra trigger shot to increase our chances. But I had a terrible dream about a strange fertility clinic filled with ex-boyfriends and strangers yelling and pointing at me that I wasn’t pregnant. It was awful. And again, I wasn’t pregnant. I had to work that day and it was terrible because I could barely hold it together. That weekend we didn’t know what else to do so we did a 16 mile training run pushing Tyler in the BOB. That kid is a champ and had no idea what it was like for us that day. Eric was trying to be positive but I felt like somebody died. Were we really not ever going to have another child? I had changed jobs, and therefore insurance, and it covered nothing. Three rounds of IUI ended up costing us practically what IVF would have. There was no way we could think about that at the time, though.
When I had to call the clinic to tell them I wasn’t pregnant, again, I had a moment of desperation when I asked them if we could do another round of IUI. My reasoning was that I wasn’t on Clomid for three consecutive months because we’d taken January off, and that we knew it could work because we already had Tyler. Much to my surprise, the nurse agreed we could give it one last try. They would change up my meds and see what happened.
I was good to go on March 7th. I was so panicked it was hardly even joyful. Even with the best husband in the world (that’s you, Eric) there is nothing romantic about IUI. It’s sterile and silent and kind of sad. But I didn’t have any cramps this time and was hopeful. I had a dream I gave birth, which was encouraging. I diligently waited until Test Day and there wasn’t really a line. Not really. I took another test. Barely visible. Eric wasn’t sure, either. I was hardly convinced. But I had to call the clinic line or no line, so they told me to come in for a blood test.
I left school to go into the clinic. There’s a song they play on KLOVE called “Sweetly Broken” by Jeremy Riddle. This song is a decade old at least and they hardly ever play it anymore. But it plays every time I need to hear it.
The nurse called me back later that day at work and asked for Amy in a distant, distracted voice. My heart sank until all of a sudden she said, “Hey! Good news!” I couldn’t even stand up. I called Eric and made him leave a meeting so I could tell him. He was thrilled, of course.
The clinic has you come back three days later to test again and make sure some numbers are going up. It was a snow day from school. Eric stayed home to drive me to the clinic. We were those people, out on the road in a horribly dangerous spring snowstorm with cars sliding all over the road and accidents and emergency vehicles everywhere. We made it in time for my blood to get out to the lab, but the lab driver wrecked and it all got delayed a day anyway.
She called me again, at work. The test showed my numbers were going up and everything looked great. I was officially, finally, pregnant. I felt great. We had our first ultrasound on April 12; a blueberry with a heartbeat. On April 21 tiny leg and arm buds waved at us. On April 29 we graduated from Conceptions, probably forever.
Due November 28!
We didn’t find out if we were having a boy or a girl. Life’s last great surprise, right? I didn’t run the full marathon, but I did run the half at 10 weeks pregnant. It was a freezing, snowy May day, and the first night I had ever spent away from Tyler, without Eric. I was thrilled to be running less knowing a baby was growing.
Tyler, my beloved Baboo Monkey, will be a big brother in just a couple of weeks. So much is about to change. But we wouldn’t have it any other way…even though it was a heck of a ride to get where we are now.
