I have a bit of a confession to make, readers. I’m rubbish at keeping secrets, so can’t wait to spill the beans. Let’s face it, this post was first drafted weeks ago in excitement.
It all started a couple of months ago, when you may remember the stressful week when Matt fractured his stifle and Otis had his MRI scan. Well to finish the week with a bang, as I was driving home on Friday lunchtime feeling exhausted from a week’s work I started to put two and two together. The penny dropped. In fact I was showered with £2 coins. I was more tired than I’d ever been in my entire life, despite sleeping for ten hours each night. I was emotional. I’d felt peaky. I’m sure you’ve already solved the puzzle.
At this point you have to feel sorry for the man in this situation. Especially if it’s a surprise. The first they know of it is when presented with a positive pregnancy test. The woman on the other hand, has a couple of clues, and ultimately does the act of peeing on a stick. Which gives you some kind of warning as to the potential outcomes.
“Oh $#!+” was the first thought. I mean, you make flippant comments to yourself, “if I were pregnant I’d still do this” … or “no child of mine would be allowed to do that”. But when actually faced with the prospect of bringing a small human into the world and successfully raising it into a good person, I was suddenly very respectful of our parents. After all, we turned out okay.
So that was eight weeks ago, and I tell you what, there are many things they don’t tell you about being pregnant.
Firstly, feeling nauseated and unable to moan and get sympathy is hard work! Did you know that riding can make you travel sick? I’m very glad that I only felt sick and didn’t get to do an impression of a bulimic teenager, but even so it would have been nice to have been able to have the sympathy. So I was relieved when I felt normal again.
Secondly, you waste a lot of spare time falling asleep on the sofa at 5.30pm, and household jobs get forgotten about because your weekends are spent recovering from the week’s work.
You get asked a lot of questions. Like “are you ok, you look tired?” Or “are you going to get a project pony while Otis is off?”, “do you want to go on a sponsored ride in October?”, “why aren’t you drinking?” And it’s hard keeping track of all those white lies.
There is a lot going through your head as you’re thrown into a world of trimesters, foetuses, blood tests, and hormones. Where do you start? What do you need to buy? When do you need to start shopping? Is this symptom normal? Can you do this? Are you allowed to eat that? No wonder I forgot several things from my diary! Or had that glazed look on my face for minutes on end…
For me, I had the ethical debate about riding. Sure, I’d always envisaged riding Otis throughout, but riding your own horse is very different to riding other people’s. Just like riding four or five times a week is different to riding four or five times a day. I will admit to going temporarily deaf when the midwife told me that they advise women not to ride whilst pregnant…
I checked my insurance, and all was okay, so long as I could justify my actions. For example; I wouldn’t be covered if I got on a bucking four year old, but schooling a mature horse on the flat that I’d ridden for years would be acceptable. Initially, I found I was a bit cautious until I’d accustomed myself to the idea of being pregnant, but then it was business as normal.
In the early days I decided that I didn’t need to tell clients yet; there’s a high risk of miscarriage before twelve weeks and I didn’t want to put the kiss of death on it. If a horse’s behaviour changed then I would speak privately to that client about the situation and make a plan.
Then in this last week I’ve started speaking individually to those who’s horses I ride, to make sure they’re happy with me riding in “my condition” and to come up with a plan for lunging and working horses in hand as an alternative to riding sometimes. I have to say, that I’ve been very impressed and am very grateful to everyone who kept my secret. I am very appreciative of my loyal clients and friends because not one whisper of this secret has been heard!
I’ve not really come to a decision about when to stop riding. My body is used to it, so I think going cold turkey could do more harm than good – both physically and psychologically. It’s hard at the moment because I feel so well, but ultimately I’m going to listen to my body and keep as active as possible for as long as possible. I have a vague idea of timings, but I don’t want to set things in stone. I can reduce the hours I ride, and reduce the level of riding I do as I see fit. Teaching can continue until due day, and I can be at the end of the phone if anyone has any stumbling blocks, before picking lessons up again when I’m ready and have got the hang of this whole baby thing.
But now we’ve nearly reached week thirteen – the second trimester – we can shout our news out loud, reap the compliments about pregnancy “glows”, and pick people’s brains freely about which cot is best and what colour should the nursery be. And we can start to plan this next chapter of our lives.