Introducing byClaireSads

It starts from the moment you announce you are pregnant. It’s not enough that you have to wait 9 months to be reunited with your favourite cheeses and chicken wine (IYKYK), but there is an endless tide of unsolicited advice about what you can and can’t do now you’re pregnant. Plus there’s an abundance of “wait until the baby’s here you won’t be able to do that anymore”

And it shows no sign of subsiding once the baby arrives:  “Be careful now, you’ll have to stop climbing those hills” and “well you wont be able to do that, you’ll be at home with the baby”. I remember discussing with close friends similar comments I received when I was pregnant with Monty; why are we so discouraging to expectant and new mothers and tell them that life is over as they know it? It infuriated me. My stubborn and rebellious streak was instantly triggered by these comments: challenge accepted. I made myself a promise there and then, while I might have to adapt life, I would not stop living it on my terms once Monty arrived.

What I have embraced over these last five years is that neither pregnancy nor parenthood is a limitation; it’s a constant transition.

Full disclosure: I’m writing this with rose tinted glasses from the comfort of having now escaped what I call the “Survival Years”. From newborn to three years of age, each day is learning how to parent, dealing with growth spurts and vaccination jabs, and avoiding meltdowns over the most incredible of reasons that you couldn’t make up. You navigate tiredness, sleep regressions, and emotional rollercoasters, but discover a new meaning (and zest) to life. There were days when Monty was a baby where we curled up on the sofa with the fire lit and did nothing all day, but there were also weeks where we embraced the outdoors, had lunch on the beach and hiked miles of a coastal path. I fulfilled the promise I made to myself and lived the Survival Years of motherhood on my terms - albeit all done with copious amounts of caffeine on my part.

Being in the outdoors and connected to nature has always been a part of who I am. It’s been vital for my physical health, mental resilience and sense of self. I didn’t stop being “me” because I became “mum.” If anything, I became more sure of who I am and more committed to grounding Monty in an outdoors lifestyle. So, yes, your priorities do change. Yes, you have to adapt. Yes, you might have to call it a day early or not get out much one season because of your little ones. But that doesn’t mean you give up the parts of yourself that make you feel most alive. In fact, that’s exactly when we need them the most.

Post “Survival Years”, I’m now finding more of a balance to prioritise my time in the outdoors. And while I’m picking up my rod and rifle more this year than I have done over the last five, it has presented certain insecurities I just hadn’t contemplated: I’m out of practise, my muscle memory needs reactivating and my shooting bag looks quite different now with snacks, hot wheels cars and baby wipes. It was this reflection that made me realise that I wouldn’t be alone in feeling like this, so, if I wasn’t going to be honest about the struggle, juggle and ‘returning to the field’ post-baby, then I would only be compounding a problem.

And then I had a brainwave…

I’d been inundated with messages over the last few years about how to hike with your baby, how and when to bring your children shooting and so on. My advice was consistent: 

• look at what you want to do, plan ahead and improvise where needed; 

• adapt your clay or game shooting routines if you’re bringing your child with you; and

• overcome limiting beliefs or what you think is ‘the norm’ because, if like me you solo parent, you’ll have realised that your time in a high seat will be very limited (or non-existent) unless you bring them with you.

I found that speaking honestly and sharing my experience has helped give others a much needed confidence boosting nudge. And so my MOM Series was born: weekly posts on social media about how you can enjoy the outdoors, connect your little ones to nature and also continue to shoot, fish, hike and hunt in your rural way of life.

I realised that I could talk from experience to quell those pregnancy comments and prove that:

(1) you can take a break from the outdoors for whatever reason (not just having kids, maybe you’ve moved house, had an injury or experienced a life event that has taken over) and

(2) you can embrace the adventure, get back into shooting and continue to source your own meat, once your little one arrives, regardless of where you live and the demands on your time.

The point is, it doesn’t have to be perfect or even close to it, you just need to improvise, adapt and overcome, and adopt a constant adventure mindset.

So, you don’t need permission to bring your kids to the outdoors or on microadventures. You don’t need to worry about what people will think or if your children are ‘allowed’. You need encouragement, community and maybe a little reminder that you’re not alone and everything can be turned into an adventure...

So, this blogspace is for every outdoorswoman who was scared about what life would look like when she became a mother. It is for every mum-to-be who has had people laugh in disbelief when she said she would still enjoy the outdoors when her baby arrives. It’s for every new mum who’s been made to feel guilty for wanting time in nature. Its for every parent who wants to bring home the venison or grow their own veggies to feed their family, regardless of where they live. 

And, most importantly of all, it’s for every woman who loves the outdoors but feels like she needs permission to go back or be imperfect because life has got in the way.

I promise to help rewrite the narrative with you, one muddy bootprint at a time.

by

Claire Sads