As a Lifelong Climber I’m Struggling to Balance My Passion With Planning a Pregnancy

Deciding to have a baby is a big moment in anyone’s life, but for Gabi, a series of early stage miscarriages saw her questioning how the decision to have kids would now impact her obsession with climbing. How do you balance the ‘body clock’ reality with a climbing life?

Crouched on the edge of the steep, rocky platform that serves as the base for Upper Slider on Mt Tibrogargan, I whispered to my doctor about what my latest HCG levels meant for my budding pregnancy. I’d already had one early stage miscarriage and this was increasingly looking like number two.

During this phone call the thought struck me that my closest girlfriends, most of whom are mums and none of whom are climbers, would probably think I was crazy having this conversation here, now.

Then came the endless internal questions about whether or not I was really ready to have a baby.

‘Is hanging out on the side of a cliff conducive to preparing my body for pregnancy?’

‘Am I ready to give up (at least temporarily) the activity I love most in the world, the only real passion I’ve ever had?’

‘Will I still love this sport if I’m not able to push my limits?’

And my favourite intrusive thought of all: ‘Am I selfish for not pressing pause or at least slowing down while I try?’

It seems the guilt of motherhood had begun before I’d even crossed the starting line.

Deciding to have a baby is a huge moment for anyone. No matter what your lifestyle looks like, there’s one guarantee – things are going to change. How you spend your time is going to look very different through pregnancy and for the next 18 or so years.

For the travellers, the action sports junkies, the Explorers, there’s also the added element of not being able to do the thing you love.

Long days in the mountains, sketchy sport climbs, ski touring, travelling, camping, bouldering, hiking, running – by all accounts it’s about to get a lot harder to do it all.

In the face of all that, I’m struggling to feel like I’m really ready.

On one hand, I believe it’s our physiological purpose to procreate, and I’ve always known I wanted kids. It’s just that the world of Big 4 Holiday Parks, daycare waitlists, and crippling adult responsibility snuck up on me. And I will not go gently into that good night.

Finding Climbing Changed My Life

I started climbing just as COVID took over the world and it quickly took over my life, replacing a snowboard-shaped hole from when I’d left Canada the year before.

I’d always been active but never liked training, and climbing was it for me. The problem-solving, the physicality, the time spent outside, the mental presence I couldn’t find anywhere else – I loved all of it.

Soon after, I met the man who’d become my husband and slowly lured him into the bouldering gym. The rest is history. Our lives became inextricably linked to climbing, every weekend, every holiday, thrice weekly at the gym. We became lifers together.

Moulding Life Around Adventure

Having kids always seemed so far in our future. Something we would do one day, of course, but we’d have years of adventures before that. And adventure we did. But as any climber who’s had even a small taste of the outdoor life will tell you, it’s never enough.

At each new crag the world over, we meet another person whose eyes light up as they passionately describe another place, and so the list grows. Not to mention the endless crags here in Australia – Tasmania, the Blue Mountains, the Grampians – or even just in Southeast Queensland – Coolum Cave, Mt Tibrogargan.

It’s not that I think visiting these places isn’t an option with kids, I just know I won’t experience them with the same wild freedom as before.

Already, the climbing part of my life is relegated to crisp early mornings, hot, sticky evenings, weekends, holidays, and daydreams from my desk.

My own personal rebellion against corporate networking, Teams meetings, approval processes, taking things offline, and building super so I can finally be free at 67. So, will it still be the same if I have to limit my already limited time?

The Addictive Nature of Strength and Progression

Climbing also has that addictive quality of continuous and measurable improvement, where over time you feel yourself get stronger, your technique get better. Routes that once seemed so hard become easy warm-ups.

You tick a few grades, take a few whips, and learn the mental tactics required to keep the fear at bay. For me, after five years, it’s finally all coming together and I can’t help feeling like I’ve only scratched the surface of what I’m capable of, if only I had more time.

A successful pregnancy will inevitably pause this progress, and will more than likely cause a pretty significant regression. Wiser climbers than me would say the grades don’t matter, the true value is in the experience. I agree to an extent, but I also love the thrill of achieving something objectively hard. The feeling of accomplishment, the cheers, the high fives, the (perceived) respect of my peers. I’m not going to pretend I’ll get that top-roping a purple in the gym.

Read more: Rock Climbing Slang And How To Use It (Word Beta)

When we first started trying to have a baby, I didn’t really think about all this. We decided it was time, lined up the ‘one last hurrah’ trip to Thailand and excitedly got to work. Fast forward five months and it happened, two lines on a plastic stick said I was pregnant.

Two weeks later I wasn’t.

It’s actually much more common than you think. One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage. I guess, like all bad things in life, I didn’t think it would happen to me. Certainly not again and again.

Time to Think Isn’t Always a Good Thing

One of the biggest challenges with trying for a baby is you have a lot of time to think. You find yourself always waiting, especially if you’ve experienced a loss. Waiting for your period, then ovulation. Anxiously waiting a few weeks to take a test. Quietly waiting three minutes in the bathroom. Desperately waiting 48 hours for blood test results. Squeezing your partner’s hand in the doctor’s waiting room. Then knowing it’s over and waiting for the pain to start.

All this waiting means more time to think and shifting hormones mean you can’t always think clearly.

In a lot of ways, climbing is what helped me stay sane through the last twelve months. It’s given me something else to focus on beyond my ovulation schedule and running through every move I’d made in the past few weeks trying to find something to blame – something I can avoid next time around. 

I can’t imagine how I’d feel without the ability to walk into the gym and completely clear my thoughts, or to focus entirely on each hold of the airy, five-move crux of The Final Piece.

Unfortunately, in my efforts to find something to blame, I sometimes circle back to climbing itself, that big fall I took onto the mats in a bouldering competition, the long approaches and big days out.

My doctor says it’s unlikely, but I wonder if he really understands what I’m doing out there. I wonder if I should stop while we try, if climbing is just too risky, too overpowering, and takes up too much of my time and effort. But I really don’t want to stop. So, do I really want to fall pregnant? Do I want it enough?

Sharing Experiences Can be Really Powerful

Thankfully, I’ve seen an increasing number of badass women who’ve continued to climb through pregnancy and motherhood, and who’ve documented it to help the rest of us see what’s possible. One year in, Hazel Findlay is back to climbing V10 and 5.13 trad, and three years in, Emily Harrington is climbing as hard as she did when she was 18.

While I’m not a pro climber and can’t afford Emily’s adventure nanny, watching these women on Instagram and listening to their podcast interviews has been really helpful for me. Suddenly, I don’t feel as bad about placing so much value on climbing, or about questioning my readiness to have a baby. I’m also starting to believe it’s possible to have both kids and physical progression. It seems I just have to be more organised and operate on a lot less sleep.

These women have shown me there are plenty of ways to raise a family and to get outdoors throughout it all. Perhaps I don’t have to listen when people say there’s no way we’ll be doing what we’re doing now once we have kids. No doubt it’ll be different, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be wild, beautiful, and packed with adventure. The adventures might be shorter and closer to home, the big climbing days fewer and farther between, but we can make it work if we’re determined enough. Maybe it’ll all be okay and we should try again.

Despite my rumination back and forth, during my latest brief foray into pregnancy, I found myself placing my hands over my lower abdomen every night willing the beginning of life inside me to hold on.

In those dark nights I know that I did want it. Whatever it would bring, I was ready.

But as it turned out for me and for so many others, deciding you’re ready to have a baby doesn’t mean it’s going to happen anytime soon. And when it finally does, I suppose I’ll just do the same thing as every other parent.

I’ll let it change me.

Parenting and Adventure

• Here’s To The AdventureDadz™
• Does becoming a parent mean my adventurous life is about to end?
• How To Stay an Adventurous Parent and Still Be Home in Time for Family Dinner
• Here’s to the Wild Mums