Hope's Birth Story

It’s hard to believe that this time over a year ago I was listening to techno/disco music thinking, “Am I really in labor?” I know, it’s not exactly what one would include in their dream of their perfect labor environment, but a dance party is actually quite common in my house.  This is especially true on cold winter days when the little ones need to expend some energy other than “climbing the walls”, because it turns out that is a literal thing. We had already had a happy due date celebration and continued to wait for our third born child. For me, it was still unreal that I was having another one. With our daughter Hope, I found out that we were expecting her 3 months into my pregnancy and Ian, our second, was only 9 months old. Yeah, you do the math. My husband actually said, “But you don’t get pregnant easily!” Man, did I show him. Ha! The day I found out I was pregnant I was doing quarter mile interval training on a racetrack with my horse to prepare for riding competitively again.  As it turns out, I was going to have one baby in 2017 and one in 2018. I just couldn’t believe it.  As someone who had had 3 miscarriages in one year and thought that I may never have children…I. just. couldn’t. believe. it.  One of the hard parts of having pregnancies so close together is that you’ve just done this, but the benefit is that you’ve just done this.  That night during the dance party when I lay there listening to my children and husband laugh and dance wondering if I was going to have a baby soon…it still had not soaked in. However, I was determined not to have a baby in the car or in some other unexpected place. So I asked a dear friend of mine if her teenage daughter would spend the night in case we needed to go to the birth center. I let my midwife know that I might need her in the next few hours, but I wasn’t sure. You see, I have really long early labors…I mean weeks of it. I’ve been hooked up to machines to check and I really do walk around for 3-4 weeks having true labor contractions and being half-way dilated and effaced. So I ignore it as best as possible and get on with life. And then, wham, it all hits at once and a baby is coming…NOW.  After our friend’s daughter arrived we all went to sleep.  Around midnight I decided I mentally couldn’t sleep through it anymore and into the birth center we went. My greatest fear was making all these sweet people get up in the middle of the night and it not actually being time for me to have a baby. We went back to sleep until 2:30am, I woke up, and at 2:45am my water broke. It was game on, fill up the birthing tub, jump in, and let’s do this. When my water broke I remember saying, “I’m not ready!” Funny how you can know for 6 months that something is going to happen but then still not feel ready. I had an amazing birth with my second, but I was still afraid to do it all over again. It is hard work and there is no guarantee that one birth will be the same as the last. I kept telling myself that though there was fear, my hope was greater than my fear. Now I had an amazing set of midwives and one that especially understood my wishes to have a water birth and to get to deliver my daughter myself.  She also knew how fast things could go since my last birth was 45 minutes. Transition was the part that I wanted “to do better” than my last birth and the part where I had felt out of control.  But as with many things in life, the only way out was to go through it. My midwife looked at me after about 15 minutes in the tub and said, “This is it. This is your moment.” She was right and it took that statement, that call to the very present to remind me and help me focus on my goals. I held my husband’s hand, the calm, brave man that he is. A few pushes later and I brought my daughter up out of the water and held her close. I was laughing, saying, “Thank you, God!” and over and over I said to my daughter, “We did it!” She has been my smallest child at 7lbs14oz and 19inches long. It was 3:13am and we were home before 6am.

What greater gift is there than the gift of life? The gift to breathe, to see, to hear, to feel? I know this is not a popular belief these days, but God has completely changed my heart towards children, to the point where I really don’t care what anyone thinks. When I got and get comments in the grocery store or out in public, like “Do you know where babies come from?” and “You know how to prevent those, right?”, I might give a cheeky or brave response like, “Yeah I do, and it’s fun!” or “Tell me, which one of these kids would you have prevented?”, or my new favorite, “Kids, listen! This person is about to tell us where babies come from!”, but truly I am sad for those who don’t understand the joy of having children. We teach others what we value by what we are willing to sacrifice for. It was hard to tell God, “I trust you” when I thought I would never have children and though it is even harder now, it has been my hope that each day I will say “I trust you”. Each one of our stories is different, as it should be. And I’m not saying we need to all think the same thing and live our lives in the same way, but I do think that for me, claiming to believe in God and in Christ, that there has been no greater love in my life than when I have laid down my life to have these children.  Their births have been the most empowering and incredible experiences of my life.  I consider it a blessing to have co-created something eternal, to have done the hard work to get them here and to have the privilege to raise them.
                                                     

Ian's Birth Story

It’s hard to believe that this time a year ago I was holding my newborn son in my arms. I wanted to share his birth story because when I was pregnant with him I searched and searched for positive birth stories…and ya know what? They’re hard to find.  However, the first two moms that I shared this story with said “I hate you” to my face. Ouch.  So, I’ve taken my time to share it and I only share it with the disclaimer that I don’t think I’m a super birthing machine or that a natural, unmedicated birth is the end-all be-all of birth. That being said I’ve found that I have some really strong believes about what birth can be…it can be powerful, beautiful, calm, peaceful, and one of the most defining moments of your life.  This is where I found myself a year ago, putting my birth where my beliefs are.

I had been having contractions since 37 weeks to the point where I would stop, breathe through them and say “just let me know when you’re serious about this”.  The fact that I was talking to my contractions should tell you a little bit about my state of mind-ha!  An accomplished day included keeping water down, maybe some food, and caring for my 3 year old son, Zeke.  Ian was super low and at “zero station” from the end of the second trimester on.  So I felt like he could arrive at any moment and that’s what I thought was happing at 38 weeks.  As it turns out I was having a kidney stone! Now that is a horror story I will not share and I would actually rather give birth than have another kidney stone! But gratefully my contractions remained constant and though I was dilated at 4cm throughout the whole experience the Doctors, as I ended up having to go to the hospital, felt that Ian wasn’t stressed. We were able to avoid a c-section and go home again.  So, I walked around for another 2 weeks like this. I got so use to strong contractions that I would just breathe for a little bit, get on all fours, whatever, and then get back up and finish dishes, laundry, or whatever I was doing with Zeke. Then my due date came and went.  I’m grateful that I’ve had several friend who have gone past their due date, some to 42 weeks, that passed along some wisdom on patience in that time of waiting.  So, we went out for a “Happy Due Date” dinner.  The next day I went in for my regular chiropractor visit, which had been a huge help to me throughout pregnancy, as I struggle with my hips randomly dislocating, pregnant or not.  As I was driving home I started to have what I would call “a good one”.  The kind where you can’t think about anything else but what’s happening.  This happened several times during the 15 minute drive home.  I called my midwife when I got home and let her know that I thought I’d have the baby sometime that night. Since I already had a 4pm appointment scheduled for that day I cancelled it.  She said she would leave it open for me just in case. I went about my day, doing the normal farm and family routine, stopping to breathe here and there.  Whenever it came time for Zeke’s nap at 1:30 I put in one of my favorite movies and sat on a balance ball.  Any time I thought I was having a contraction, because I still wasn’t sure I knew what they were, I would say “this doesn’t have to hurt”.  Contractions to me are your body doing what it’s supposed to so you can meet your baby.  I had also read several accounts of ecstatic birth and painless birth, which I was going to claim for myself if I could.  Many of these stories were written by non-Christians and I felt like if I claim to know the Prince of Peace as a Christian, then at least I could move forward without fear or fear of pain.  It’s all temporary.  Also, I knew that physically, the more you fight contractions the more painful they are going to be and I thought I must have about 8+ hours of this to go.  Sometime around 2:30pm I called David, my husband, because I started to feel like I didn’t want to be by myself anymore.  When David got home we called the midwives and let them know we were going to come in to at least have them check my progress.  We called our friends that had offered to watch Zeke and went to drop him off.  Then David forgot the directions to our friend’s house!  I sat in the front pointing right or left as I breathed through contractions that were now about 2 minutes apart and feeling more meaningful each time.  Zeke didn’t even have shoes on when David threw him through the door at our friend’s house.  We arrived at the Birth Center at 4pm, my original appointment time and were welcomed by a lot of happy, laughing midwives and nurses.  It was the biggest relief to be there.  It was like having a guaranteed knowledgeable, caring, pep-squad ready to cheer you on through the one of the hardest and best events of your life! I went upstairs to the birthing room I had chosen and the deep tub was already full-yes! This is when David went into action. He brought up our bags, set up my essential oil diffuser with lavender, whipped out my padded yoga map and grabbed a balance ball. He was pretty awesome.  My midwife checked me and said, “You’re at 9cm, want to stay and have a baby?”  I just started laughing! I couldn’t believe that this was finally happening! I was so excited I couldn’t stop laughing and smiling.  I had been able to talk, walk around, function normally, and I hadn’t experienced any pain at all throughout this whole experience.  This just hadn’t been hard enough to be labor.  I got in the tub and just talked to David until I had to breathe.  He held my hand and would look at me.  I don’t remember what he said to me, but I know it was sweet and it was good.  He was there and that was all I needed in that time.  Then things got intense at about 4:30pm and for the first time I felt afraid.  I had this rush of memories from my first birth and every terrible birth story I had ever heard or anyone had ever told me came to life in my mind.  Friends, your words and how you use them are powerful.  Remember that when you talk to pregnant ladies.  So, I started talking to my baby, louder, and louder, and LOUDER. “Please get out, baby!” It was the only thing I could think to say. It just had to be over soon. Then my midwife said that his head had been born.  But then there was a pause and it seemed too long.  So they had me get out of the tub.  Sorry for the mental image here, but I literally climbed out of the deep birthing tub and walked across the room to get on the bed.  David still says, “I don’t know how you did that”.  All I knew is that if that was the best thing for my baby then I was going to do it, no matter what.  It was just a few moments of what felt like rest and then I knew I had come to my end.  I felt done.  It was in that moment that my body did exactly what it was supposed to and Ian was born. And he was just fine.  I don’t even remember pushing.  It was just the best relief and it was surreal.  There he was all 9lbs, 21.5 inches of him! His head at 14.5 inches was over an inch bigger in diameter than the average newborn head size, yet I hadn’t torn or needed an episiotomy.  The first thing that I did was apologize for yelling at him.  Then I told him how glad I was that he was here and that I loved him.  Those moments made every bit of suffering during pregnancy worth it.  Birth wasn’t something that had happened to me this time.  Birth was something that I had DONE, with my baby and with my husband.  He was born at 4:45pm and the last 15 minutes was the hardest work I have ever done in my life.  But let’s be honest, 15 minutes??? Yep, all to bring an eternal soul into the world, a soul that will potentially live and impact the world for the next 80-90 years.  I’d say that’s one heck of a tradeoff.  Some could say I had been in labor since 37 weeks, some for 30 minutes.  Either way, I never would have had time for an epidural if I had wanted one.  I’m so glad that I hadn’t relied on trying to have one.  I felt amazing in my soul and in my body, like I could go run a few miles or go rock climbing. Don’t worry, I didn’t.  We left the birth center before 5:30pm and went home with our new little (big) bundle.  It’s taken longer to have pizzas delivered to our house than it took to delivery our baby.  This birth was one of the most intense, powerful, and redeeming events of my life and I am GRATEFUL that I was able to experience it and was given the precious gift that is my second son, Ian.  For you pregnant ladies out there, I hope that this encourages you.  For those that have had a traumatic birth, it can be redeemed.  Nothing is beyond the healing and love of God.  As someone who had 3 miscarriages in one year and was told I wouldn’t be able to have children, I absolutely believe that.  And to myself, remember what is true about birth, because you’re about to do it all over again in about 5 months J

Cancer, Injury and Attitude

My, isn't perspective everything when riding horses? Two months ago I was frustrated at the level of my riding, the lack of things to jump, and that I wasn't able to make the most of finally having a truck and trailer to use. Then reality hit hard.  Gabe developed lesions around his eyes and I knew they could only mean one thing. The only questions were how far along was the cancer, how quickly would it spread, and how much time did we have together?  So, I called the vet and went for a ride.  No, there weren't any trot sets, bending lines, or counters canter in sight.  It was just a girl and her horse, dangling feet and bareback.  Memories flooded my mind as  tears flooded my face.  My best friend quietly walked on while I was lost in my thoughts.  Until I saw his ears ask me his favorite question...can I run?  Without trotting first?  Was our warm-up complete?  I just didn't care. This was our ride today, not our workout, not our training for some future goal, this was our in the moment, live your life ride.  So, I happily agreed and more memories rushed in...racing through pine tree lined fire-lines on a long-ago lost friend with only wind and spider webs to try and slow us down.  Never again did I think I would find another kindred soul in a mount.  I was wrong and in a starving, emaciated, scared, painted pony I found another love of my life, who would understand my soul and now I was losing him as well.  I hopped off and gave him the usual pat on the neck, the neck that was never clean enough, and a hug, which he pretended to never like if another horse was watching. I then did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed for him, prayed healing over his eye lids, that they would be saved, that the cancer would cease to spread, and that our time together would be sweet. Our vet appointment came and my concerns were confirmed. Since I was already coverning him head to toe in a UV proof sheet and mask there was nothing else I could do until our next appointment three weeks away when he would have a freeze treatment done on his eyelids.  Three weeks of hopeless despair is what I thought at first. Then, our miracle happened.  Slowly, and without treatment the lesions began to get smaller and smaller, while I held back my hope.  The time for our second appointment came.  I tried to wait patiently as he was examined.  "If stuff like this happened all the time I'd be out of business," said the Vet and I unashamedly hugged Gabe's face and cried, because the horse-crazy little girl inside of me had just won back time her best friend.  The cancer was gone.

It has now been two months and Gabe's eyelids look wonderful.  Our training has continued steadily, goals gently held with open hands. A small crack in his front left. Front shoes now. No biggie.  Swelling in his front left leg.  A torn check ligament. Ugh. Three months minimum rest.  Good thing my husband won't let me beat myseld up as I rack my brain on how it happened.  Gabe now takes off his fly mask and hides it to get my attention.  It's like he knows I watch him like a hawk.  While I search for it in the tall grass he follows me asking, "Can we ride now?"  I groom him often, but he's slow to be put back out to pasture.  I can hear him saying, "Is that it?" I love a horse that likes to work.  I tell him to enjoy his summer off and that we'll get back to it when he's better.  I tell him that even if walking is the only thing left for us for the rest of his life, that I will be happy with that and grateful for every day that we have together.

Field of Dreams

It has been a long time since I've taken the time to write and that is for several reasons. First of all I am very convicted that I want to be a "present" mom to my son, so I keep electronic time to a minimum. The last thing I want to see is him mimicking me typing on a laptop or a phone.  Secondly, I now help take care of 3 other children full time...that's 24 hour mom full-time, not 8-5 regular job full-time. Lets just leave it at that.  Thirdly, I started my Masters. I know, cause I didn't have much else to do. And lastly, we've moved! In the fullness of all this it is a luxury to get to sit. and write. and think. think my own thoughts. So here they are.

We've moved onto an 18 acre farm circa 1911. Around the perimeter it's 3 board black, or once black, wooden fencing with cross-fencing and the back portion in wood and American wire or t-posts and American wire with electric across the top (kind of). I'm realizing that a mark of a horse-person is that they begin telling you about the pasture and fencing, not the house.  The pastures could be beautiful, but they've either been neglected and are scattered with weeds and briers or they were over-used with grass barely noticeable and manure being the dominant ground covering. Lets just say that the last person who lived here either had poor husbandry/management skills or they just didn't love this place the way that I already do.  There are several outbuildings and barns, the older ones making more sense in practicality and building techniques. The more recent ones seem pathetic to me standing next to the faded grandeur of the old barns, which were clearly made by skilled craftsmen that took pride in their craft.  "Jimmy-rigged" is how I'd describe the newer ones.  We've actually termed one of them the "Crap Shack". That was as nice as we could be, partially because there use to be pigs kept in it and the flooring is about 5 inches deep in frozen pig poo and the walls are splattered up to my waist in it. Can't wait till the warmth of summer.  They also put insulation in the walls which the birds and mice have found quite agreeable. I've realized even more how our choices can affect others.  Even now I'm reaping the benefits and repercussions of another person's good and poor choices, even though some of those choices were made over 100 years ago. I look at this farm with its beautifully restored 1900 farmhouse and it's fields and barns in need of love and a wonder what kind of impact will I have on it. What will the people who live here 50, 100 years from now think about the choices I made? Will they bring them grief or joy?

I've probably wanted to move back onto a farm since I left one at 18. There's nothing like stepping out in the morning sunrise and hearing your horse(s) whinny at your arrival while your dogs quickly burst at the chance to run in the crisp air.  I love the smell of hay, grain and grass.  I love how it feels to accomplish all your chores, to sweat, to get dirty, to be tired at the end of the day, when sinking into a chair with a cool drink is well-earned. Hence why suburbia just about drove me nuts.  No matter how good of a boarding situation I was in, I always found myself longing for this. Not only because I'm "meticulous" in how I want my horses cared for, but I'd plainly just rather do it myself...an attitude which has sustained me when I've needed it too and has frustrated me beyond belief when I've needed to ask for help. Like when I got my truck and trailer stuck not a week into living here. A slice of humble pie. Then there's having to rely on using someone else's trailer. I've been in so many tight spots because of this and I'm so over it, but trailers are expensive so I'll just have to keep putting up with it.

With all of these nostalgic emotions come the nightmares of my past; the preventable tragic death of my beloved 2 year-old filly, the looming loss of her mother, my first horse love. What if I screw this up too?  I could barely sleep the first few nights after I moved Gabe here because of these very thoughts and memories. It's amazing how the past can haunt you if you let it.

Within these fields I have the opportunity to let the past overrun me. I also have the opportunity to live out some of my dreams and restore parts of my heart that have long sat dormant.  I can slowly feel the fear of failure being replaced with the desire to try, with thoughts of training, jump building, and fence mending. It's like I'm breathing for the first time in years. I've been completely functional this whole time, just not fully myself. I'm ready for this, at least I'm ready to try.

Zeke's Heart

I usually use this blog to tell about the journey that I'm on with Gabe, but today it feels right to tell a bit of the story of my son, Zeke. Just know that during this time, Gabe was happily eating grass in a pasture or being loved and ridden by a wonderful young lady that leased him during this time. That is the picture that I had of him in my mind which allowed me to wholeheartedly give myself to becoming a mom. 

*Let me preface what I am about to say by stating that I wholely believe that one of the reasons that I have suffered in my life has been to be able to love others better who have or are currently going through painful situations and to be an encourager. Sometimes just knowing that someone else had already "made it to the other side" was what kept me going. Also, some of this is graffic, so don't keep reading if you don't want to read about birth or any other real life stuff. * 

Today I took a heart monitor off of my son for what I hope is the last time. I morbidly thought of how much he looked like a suicide bomber with it strapped to his chest with an ace bandage. There seems to be nothing more vulnerable than the unknown well-being of your child. Sitting on the edge of a helpless situation is not my cup of tea. I am a fighter. There's a reason the boys in elementary and middle school called me "Xena" and "Amazon Woman "...poor adolescent boys. Anyways, it is at that very place that I found myself when I was 30 weeks pregnant with Zeke. Before this time I was just so grateful to be pregnant. I had had three miscarriages in the first year of our marriage. "Unofficially" the fertility specialist, after multiple tests, said that the birth control I had taken had destroyed the lining of my uterus. Whether or not we could have children was unknown. The fear and guilt that I had in this time was insurmountable. My husband's one dream in life was to have children and here I potentially ruined it by following modern culture. I never even asked him about birth control. I just went and had an IUD put in, because who wants kids when you're young, poor and still in school. I remember asking him to pick me up from the clinic because I could hardly undouble from the pain. The procedure that was suppose to take 20 minutes had taken over 2 hours and left me crying, curled up in pain for over a day. But I had done it. I had single-handedly "protected" us from children. What a horrible lie. 

At 30 weeks pregnant I sat listening to the heartbeat of our unborn child. The little baby I had thrown up in my muck boot on my way to work for. The little baby that I had quit my job and sold my truck for. The child I had already taken loads of progresterone for, as a precaution against miscarriage. The progesterone which made my all-day/all-night sickness even worse, the injections making my thighs swell to triple their size in revolt. The midwife lingered. Something was wrong. It's in those moments that all the air leaves the room and you forget that breathing is suppose to be an automatic. A routine checkup turned into a visit to the hospital, which turned into not leaving the hospital. My most feared of places on earth. A place of death and suffering. A place of loss and pain. That was not where I wanted to take my child, to be poked and prodded, speculated and theorized over. But there wasn't a choice, so we went and we stayed. Our normal, uncomplicated pregnancy had just become high-risk. Zeke had SVT and his heart was beating at double the normal rate. We stayed in the hospital as multiple doctors tried to figure out how much medication I could handle that would have the desired effect of slowing Zeke's heart down. The best case scenario was that slowing his heart down would not only allow him proper oxygenation but potentially would allow his heart to heal. Doctors get concerned when a baby's heart rate stays elevated for 24 hours. Zeke's had been double the norm for over a week. The major concern was that his heart would just stop. I was put on continuous fetal monitoring.  I lay there listening to his heart beat, praying it would slow but not stop, praying against an emergency c-section and having a premature baby, and praying that my heart could withstand however much medication Zeke needed. Having a normal pregnancy taken from you feels so unfair. It was during that time when I was laying there feeling my own heart slow that I thought about the people in my life. Those who were loving us well, that knew what was going on and actually cared. I thought of those friends that had been lost along the way, those that gave up caring about us. Then there were the strangers that became friends. The amazing nurses. I thought about my past sins, of how undeserving I was to even be pregnant at all. Years of misusing sex, being sexually abused and assaulted, and using morning after pills (all before meeting and marrying my husband) still tormented my soul. Who was I to deserve something so precious and pure as a baby? Maybe this was justice? Or punishment? If you didn't know this about me then you wouldn't understand why I feel so strongly about motherhood and that it is a GIFT. Children are a GIFT. I felt this when my sister visited with my nieces. It was as if tangible joy walked in the room, covered in pink tutus and ribbons. My sweet sister brought lotion to rub my feet and as she did one on my nieces, who was about 3 years old and being unprompted, did the same and began to rub my swollen feet and ankles. Have you ever been served by a three year old? It's humbling. It's pure. And I was absolutely undeserving of it. It was a tangible reminder that though I didn't deserve love that God was going to love me anyways.  In came PEACE. Ten days later we went home.  I spent the rest of the pregnancy way drugged on heart medication. When I went to fill my prescription the Pharmacist wanted to personally call the Cardiologist to makes sure there wasn't a mistake on the dosage. It was three times the normal amount. Then came delivery. We had been told that if we could have Zeke vaginally that there was a high chance of his SVT being corrected and him not having to go into the NICU. In my heart I was determined to do everything possible to make that happen. Then the concerns started to come from the doctors. He's too big. His torso and stomach are larger than normal. Induction at 38 weeks. I refused. Induction at 39 weeks. Please just let me wait. Why are you guys trying to rush this? My body was made to do this. Why do I have to convince you of this? I am not a statistic and they do not soothe a pregnant mama's mind. Finally I consented to an induction at 39 weeks 4 days. It was my husband that had peace about it, not me, but I trust my husband. After 24 hours of induction and labor I finally asked for an epidural. I hated oxytocin/pit before labor and I hate it to this day. I had reached the point of being consumed by pain and knew that I could not do it on my own any more. I felt defeated. Defeated by modern medicine and longing for "regular pain". It's hard when your birth plan goes exactly the opposite of how you want it to. But I was still avoiding a c-section. Another 10 hours of contractions and strange sleep. Numbness. One large strange blow-up peanut. At one point one of my legs fell off the bed/table. I had to call the nurse to put it back on for me. Thank you. Then it was time. Because I was "doing so well", the intern let the midwifes continue my labor. Shift change came right before pushing time. In walked my favorite midwife. Thank you, Jesus. Only a few pushed they told me, any minute now. Two hours later my son was born. But it was silent. As he lay across my stomach my first words to him were, "You need to breathe now, ok? I love you." Those were the longest moments as I watched from the table and no one said a word. I went from everyone pushing and pulling and cutting to one person left cleaning up the mess.  And there was no comfort for me until I heard that sound. It's the sweetest sound I've ever heard. His cry. The cry of my son. He's breathing. He's living. I could've happily died in that moment. But I didn't. The sweetest gift was placed in my arms, in my protection, in my trust and in my love. The midwife stayed on to help teach me how to nurse him and to monitor him so he wouldn't have to go to the NICU. Little do they know they would've had to knock me unconscious to take him from me. Luckily no one had to experience that. The next few days were full of immense pain and immense joy. Our little guy was strong. His heart was strong. Weeks and and months of checkups and Cardiologist visits have come and gone. A year has past.  They still can not find anything wrong. The last 24 hour halter will be our last test. If all goes well, never again will I have to strap a heart monitor to my child's chest. We can just enjoy Zeke's LIFE and be grateful for the lesson I learned before he was even born; that he is an undeserved gift from God. 

Winter to Spring

This past winter and subsequent spring have been full of adjustments, not only for me and my family, but for Gabe as well. I'm sure he thought I had dropped him in the frozen tundra when he first arrived. We learned about pipes freezing and "snowball high-heels" that have horrible traction on grass. If you ever desire to find out what it feels like to ride an ice-skating horse, then go for it, but once was enough for me. I've seen even more how important it is for Gabe to have a job and finding that balance between mental and physical challenges. Preparedness is what I focus on with him. I've set very specific goals for this year, though they are small in my eyes and in the grand scheme of my equestrian hopes. I've come to find that most horses are physically capable of lower level eventing. Let's face it, it's not until the upper levels that physical capability really begins to separate the herd. It is the mental acuity and adaptation that I find to be the challenge in lower levels and yet that is what I find lacking in the upper levels (as an observer and hopeful). It's the staying calm when in unusual or new situations, it's being a responsive listener and following your person, and it's making up for that person when they get things wrong. These are all things learned at the most basic level and yet they are so commonly neglected. I'm a highly critical person of no one but myself, but an acute observer of others. As my horse becomes an extension of me he many times gets put into the scope of my critical sight. For the majority of my riding life I have not know how to handle this and I've rarely met a trainer that did. The advice was abusive or dismissive. I have followed both paths and been equally discontent. It has been until now that I am secure and confident enough to discover this for myself and my horse. Thank God for a patient horse, a supportive husband and one really easy-going baby. The courage I have gained to seek this out has come from being a mom. Not only am I the example to hopefully another generation of equestrians, but I am also an unintentional ambassador for the "riding moms club". I meet many a young girl who looks at me with fear or anxiety when they see I have a kid. How do I do it? Why do you do it? It's the same answer I gave my hairdresser when she asked why I hadn't chopped of all my hair like the other moms. My answer is this: this is how I like it and my child is not an excuse or a copout to do the things in life that take effort. Even more so it is the reason that spurs me on. How I would hate for my son to grow up and realize that he was a scapegoat for not pursuing my dreams? I had one upper-level eventer say to me," I guess now you'll only ride safe horses since you are a mom." First of all, no horse is really  "safe". Some are riskier than others, but you are unsafe the moment you step through the pasture gate. Secondly, I love developing young horses. I love helping them find what they are good at and have potential for and matching them with that person that loves it as well. What a happy existence those partnerships bring! This is something I have loved for a long time and it has poured into every area of my life. From elementary school age I loved rehoming strays; cats, dogs, birds, you name it. I'd do it with people to if I could. Maybe adoption is I our future😊 I love the healing and redemption that comes through being in the wrong situation and seeing it made right, then there being hope, love and joy in and from that. Yep, throw in some adventure and I'm a happy girl. So, no, I will not just ride "safe" horse the rest of my life. How could I fulfill those desires doing that? Now there is a time and a place for risk management, but I will discover that along the way. 

So, please, ladies out there with kiddos, don't give up on your dreams no matter what it is. Be the first example your child has of being a dreamer and a fullfiller. Show them what hard work and determination look like. Know that you are an example of motherhood and you have the ability to affect generations. Now that is powerful. You will affect future generations positively or negatively, but you will affect it and people's perception of motherhood. For those without kiddos, don't look at me with pitty like my life is over. I have accomplished the most challenging event in my life in having a kid and my son is the most powerful motivator I have ever had. Sure my body is in constant transition and the majority of my time and energy is given to someone that can't even walk or talk. But one day he will.  And he will go into the world with the influence I have placed on him. So no, my life is not over. It has just been hugely challenged and enriched. And I would wish it for anyone that is brave enough for the challenge and wants to see a miracle come to life and feel the humility and joy of motherhood. For you mamas who have taken a break from riding-it's ok. It's not going anywhere and you can always come back to it. Sometimes we have seasons in life where it just doesn't work out; whether it's our body, time, money, anything. That time can still be used to better you as a horse person and you never know what your horse could do for someone else. Some of my best and most influential horse experiences have come from someone else's horse that they weren't able to ride. Plus, if it matters that much to you then you will find a way to make it work in whatever capacity that may be. And if horses are a way of life and not a hobby for you then don't worry about it. It'll happen. As my favorite horsey-Aunt use to say,"Leah, the reason your good with horses is that your more stubborn than they are"! That couldn't be more true. I personally am too stubborn to ever not have horses in my life...I hope that for you too! 

As far as what Gabe and I are working on-we're breaking bad habits. I've found that I raise my reins right before I ask for an increase in speed. I'm sure you can see how that could become an undesirable cue. Gabe also likes to walk off the second my butt hits the saddle...ugh bad manners. He also loves to gallop every hill he sees and when I don't allow it he likes to throw his head up, evade contact and trot or canter in place. So, what did we do? We went back to boring for a while, which was easy in the snow. We walked up and down the hilly drive until I thought he was going to start dragging his nose between his legs. Well, not really, but you get the point. It was only then, after a few weeks of walking that I allowed him to trot. And then we did a lot of downward transitions. I've now started to ask for canter sets, which have been more like gallop sets, but he was fighting me so badly that I pulled from a tactic that I rarely use: wear him out. I only will do this  if it's going to mentally benefit the horse. I'm not about running a horse into the ground. But he was telling me he wanted more. Here was the key: I decided when it started, when it stopped, and for how long. In that way I was listening to his wants but they were being done within my parameters. I use to do this with young horses that liked to run backwards when they got confused or were refusing to listen. I would switch to asking them to backup the second they used that as an evasive maneuver and I would ask them to do it a lot longer than they had originally intended. It switched their mind from being unsure or obstinate to thinking that they were doing something you asked them to do. In this case with Gabe I realized it was time to challenge both his body and his mind. We did two 5 minute gallop sets on hills with 5 minute breaks between. I gave him a day off and then the next day I did a small jump set with him and then walked for 30 minutes. He was still sore and tired from our gallop sets. Two days later and he was back to normal but much more responsive and respectful of our speed. The other thing I have been working on with him is using draw reins. I've used them before when doing breaking and training 3 and 4 year olds or retraining OTBs, but I was highly reluctant to use them as I have seen them misused so harshly. I finally decided that it would help me communicate better with Gabe and that it was a tool and an aide, not a crutch or a weapon. Our first ride with the draw reins was wonderful. Gabe was more balanced and I was able to be more balanced and in control because of it. Gabe got a much better workout and I was able to better ask of him what I wanted. Let me state that I am super careful with my horses mouth. I can't stand seeing unknowledgable hands ruining a horses mouth. I think most riders should learn how to ride with just a halter with reins and bareback(with a bareback pad for some security😊). I know, it sounds harsh, but I think many bad habits could be prevented if people started this way.  Anyways, Gabe and I are increasing our endurance and stamina and trying to do it properly. We'll interval train once a week, jump at least once week, and do our dressage tests 2-3 times a week in as many different locations as we can find. Since our dressage is my weakness, that is what we will focus on for me and getting Gabe fit will be my goal for him. I'm hoping to start lessons in the next few weeks and then hopefully a few dressage shows. Once I feel like we're proficient in that then we'll up our jump game and get to the fun stuff! 

My last thought is on Rolex. I'm excited that the roster has so many top-notch  names and many first or second timers. I'm sad to not be there, soaking up the atmosphere and trekking those beautiful hills of Kentucky. I'm also a bit crestfallen as I could've been there this year as part of a team, an opportunity I turned down. I'm crazy, right?!? I followed my gut on that decision and I'm doing my best not to regret it. I will be studying each horse and rider pair from my couch, grateful that USEF Network covers the event or then I'd definitely cry lol. Best of luck to all the riders and I hope the U.S. represents well this year!

Moving Gabe & Recent Learnings

Gabe is here! It was something that seemed so far away even until the day before I went to pick him up. Once I had that trailer behind the truck, it set in. I was really going to pick up my horse. My whole "family" was going to be together again. It had been 9+ months since I had leased him and almost 3 months since I had last seen him. The time in between was an emotional roller coaster. I had the great opportunity to volunteer at a 4* barn while trying to figure out how and when to move Gabe from SC to VA. As it turns out, most people, professional horse-people or not, don't want to make a 20+ hour trip to move one horse. Man, it was frustrating. I felt so stuck. Not having a truck was the worst part. It's one thing to need a trailer, but a whole rig? You must be joking. In the end and to my great relief, my Dad offered to let me use his truck and I was able to find a trailer company that would lease a trailer out to me. And it would all cost a heck of a lot less than having him shipped. Originally I was going to make the trip by myself, with Zeke of course (my 5 month old). However, a day or so before the trip my Dad offered to come along. *Sigh of relief*. As I told him, I'm stubborn enough I could've done it by myself but not so stubborn that I wouldn't accept his help. He had to make the trip up and back again by himself...then an additional 16+ to move Gabe. In total he drove close to 40 hours in the span of just a few days. I will never be able to thank him enough for helping me at a time when I needed it the most and no one else could or would. He was an absolute rock, driving most of the way and trying to keep me calm. Turns out I've picked up some worrying habits. There's a fine line between smothering and mothering and a horse needs neither. I know these things, but gosh it's hard to NOT do them. All things considered, the trip went great! We arrived at the new barn and snuggled Gabe into his stall for the night. I felt like I could finally take a nice, deep breath. 

The next few days were rough to be honest. He had handled the trip so well. He was eating, drinking, pooping, but he was 3-legged lame. He could barely walk and was falling out of his stall. Luckily it was just that he had been trimmed too short on one hoof before I had picked him up. Within a few days I had a farrier out, shoes on and problem solved. But those few days of him being immobile ended up being sweet. They were a reminder of how we first met. Reminder that he still needed me. Reminder that I wasn't just owner and rider, but friend. It turned out to be a great way to start things back up, by just loving on him, soaking his hoof and brushing him. I'm sure if he would've been rideable after I had just come from a 4* barn that I would've completely started back in the wrong way...being so excited to try all the new things I've learned and push our limits. Thank goodness he was lame. We've now started back slowly, snow permitting. I stretch him out...carrot or currently leftover candy cane stretches are awesome! I'm also integrating some bodywork techniques. Not only does it help him relax, but it reminds me of how responsive a horse' skin is. I think many times as riders and horse people we use way too much strength in our touch. Just because it's a powerful animal does not mean we must meet it with superior strength. We will lose every time and miss out on an amazing connection. You also send your horse into a "blocking" state of mind, where you give them no choice but to shut you out. I always like to start out with the gentlest touch possible and use more if I need it. But that is because I want a highly responsive, "conversational" horse. It's not for everyone. Also, my goal with every horse I own is to ride bridle-less and saddle-less. If that doesn't change your foundational work then nothing will. We've come to a really sweet place. I'm ready to set some goals and review everything we know. My biggest challenge has been actually doing what I know. My hope is that it will become second nature and that I won't even have to think about it, but just respond. I must also say that I'm grateful for the look that I got into the 4* world, for the people I met, friends I made and horses I worked with. It made me incredibly grateful for my horse and helped me see how right we are for each other. Even if I had unlimited funds and could choose any horse in the world I would still pick Gabe. I've also realized how set I am in my foundation as a horsewoman and if something doesn't align with my core principles then I'm ok disagreeing or walking away. Nothing is too temping to compromise on that. I've also seen that there are many great horse-people that will never make it to the top. They've done everything right but it's just a "no go". It's a hard road to the top and to some it's not worth it. My hope is that those that try never forget why they began. That they don't forget their first ride, their first touch of a horse' soft nose and tickling whiskers, the conflicting sweet and sours smells of a barn, that the softest spot on a horse is right behind their elbow, that you can, if you open yourself up, you will find no greater or sweeter friend on this earth than a horse. 

VA Update

Leasing Gabe is probably the hardest horse-related thing I've ever done, yet conversely it was probably the best thing I could've done for him. I know he has gotten to travel to more competitions and clinics than I could've taken him to...especially while pregnant and then with a newborn. Also, I know he's being loved and spoiled by a young girl(lady), something every horse should get to experience. It's also challenged me to develop my life outside of horses(gasp). For any horse person this is just plain old hard to do. I've struggled with deep sadness and had to do a lot of "open hand" living. And just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore I was given that breath of air to keep me going, I got to touch a horse, and then like CPR to the drowning I got to ride. I didn't just get to ride once, I rode 4 times. 2 different horses, until I thought my legs were gonna fall off and I would never be able to sit again. It was awesome. My circling the field, a few ground poles, trot poles, and canter poles felt nothing less than epic. Thank goodness no one was around to see my dismount, if you can even call it that. I'm reminded of the kindness of the horse. They must have known how weak I am. Especially with the knowledge of some of these horses, the places they've traveled, the things they've achieved, some of them having already achieved some of my greatest dreams and yet they let me fumble around them and flop on their back like an ever-shifting bag of rice. I will forever be indebted to these wonderful animals. I will also continue to petition my muscles to return to me at their earliest convenience. In the meantime, I will continue to be a sponge around this new barn where the latest advances in equine exercise physiology and therapy are being used daily and I will try to not idolize the people teaching me, because as it turns out, they do get on a horse one foot at a time. 

Let's not be a chicken

Or chicken-s*** as one of my best friends called me in only the way a best friend can. This is what happens to me when I have an opportunity to talk to or work with a rider that I really respect. Even the thought of them knowing I exist makes me sick to my stomach. It's a complete rock-star, celebrity, "Beatles-style" star-struck emotion that I wish I didn't have. Please hide me under a rock because nothing I could do or say is worthy of your consideration and I might just start crying because I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of your awesomeness. It's pathetic, I know. 

I'll never forget when I met the Riding Master for the Lippizaner Stallions. My family and I were back at our hotel after watching their performance and my Dad had recognized him in the bar. My Dad, being the great people lover he is, had no problem going with me to talk to him and if it had not been for his encouragment I would have of course run the other way, content and complete having seen him so close. Who was I to speak to someone so great, so well-trained, so "international"? I hadn't ridden in six months and I couldn't even pronounce half the above air movements.  If it had not been for the graciousness of the Riding Master I wouldn't have said a word. I probably would have just stared at him and wondered things like,"Does he clean his own boots?". Instead, he kindly asked me questions about myself and my riding and it ended up being one of the most inspiring conversations I've ever had. I went back to the hotel room, shut myself in the bathroom and cried. 

Now, I have another opportunity to meet a rider that I greatly respect. She's a 4* Eventer that I was truly inspired and encouraged by her performance at Rolex this past year. David, Zeke and I are going this weekend to meet her barn team and see if they have a place for me. Now, I just recently birthed a child and I'm more intimidated by this weekend than I was about giving birth. I just keep telling myself that every 4* rider is human.  I like to think that they weren't just born talented and at one time in their life they were not so different from me. They were young, inexperienced and hopeful dreamers who worked hard to achieve their goals. If I can keep this in mind I might actually be able to talk to them. Or I could just fain being mute and maybe they'll take pitty on me, then after a year or two of mucking stalls in their vicinity I may be able to procure an utterance in their presence. It would be truly miraculous! Mute girl learns to speak by mucking stalls! But no, that won't work at all. Because now I have a son, a little person that I'm suppose to set an example for. So I'll be brave. I'll talk to the people I admire most and aspire to be like. I'll work hard, I'll dream, I'll take chances and be willing to embarrass myself and royally mess things up. And who knows, maybe this is a new chapter, maybe this is when I get over being a chicken-s***, but I'll never know until I try and it's certainly worth trying. 

Out of the tack lessons: Having Babies

It's interesting to me how life can prepare you for future moments without your knowledge. Being around horses has done this for me in many ways and it has shaped the way I think. Here are some things I found to be true for me in my latest adventure of bringing my son Zeke into the world. 

   You can not function out of fear. Just as a horse will sense someone's fear and either respond in fight or flight, so it is for those who approach pregnancy in the same way. I struggled with this in my own thoughts, the opinions of others, and especially the medical field. However, there is power and freedom in learning how to filter what you hear and choosing what will consume your thoughts. One of my filters is the "fruit filter". I look at the person giving the advice or whatnot and gauge what fruit it has given them and if I would want that for myself. If the fruit is good then the method of how it came into being is worth listening to.

     Partnership. Most horse people spend a considerable amount of time, energy and money finding a horse for their chosen discipline. If they're competing, only minutes are spent doing so in comparison to hours of preparation. And it's very telling. The same is true of marriage and having kids. Choose wisely. Put the time and effort in and when it comes show time you'll be glad you did.

   The unexpected happens. The worst thing that can happen is death. For me that's not so bad. It's even a good thing. So, prepare the best you can and then just let life play out. Learn from it. It'll be ok. Plus, pain is only temporary. That's what I tell myself before cross country and apparently childbirth. 

   Laugh and have fun if you can...especially if it's actually funny. Laughing can be the best medicine. So if you fall off your horse and a pile of poo softened your fall, then laugh. To the nurse who heard me comment while in labor that finally the day would come when I wouldn't have "hobbit feet", it was ok to laugh. 

   Community. Surround yourself with good, stable, happy people. Horses definitely try to do this and it's no wonder why. 

   Visualization. While going through contractions I thought I would visualize holding my son and that that would help me make it through. Turns out it didn't. Being that I am extremely visual and had never held my son before, all I could "see" was a blank page. So, what could I picture that like a contraction was intimidating but had a beginning and an end. Well, I was back on xc heading to a jump on top of a hill. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Jump. And on to the next one. I must say that was the longest 38 hours of xc visualization I've ever done. Maybe next time I'll change the course a bit. 

   Don't give up. Shortly after becoming pregnant I began to address myself as a "broodmare" and "out-to-pasture". This was certainly how I felt about myself and how I felt I was being treated by many. How sad is that? To those young horse people out there, having children is not the end of your participation in the equestrian world. It is actually the continuation of something much bigger. You can't be selfish if you're going to participate in it. The price you pay is worth the outcome. Your body will come back, and maybe even better then it was before. Don't let the fear of the uncertain keep you from potential joy. In light of all this, I've decided to give myself some patience and some room to recover. At least as much as I would give a "broodmare" coming back into work:)  

   Here's to horses and all the life lessons they bring. 

   

Prayers for Pregnancy

Dear God, please keep me from fear and anxiety. Put trust and a calm, peaceful spirit in their place. May your truths be what circulate through my mind. God help me to love those who tell me painful and heartbreaking birthing stories. May I be able to give them some of the comfort they are seeking. Keep me from complaining. Remind me constantly that this child is a gift and that many women desperately crave to feel the joys and burdens of being pregnant and having children. Remind me that birth is normal and beautiful and that you made my body to do this. Keep me from being selfish about my body, what it looks like and will look like. May I welcome each transition, feeling, emotion and pain as a right of passage. Help me remember that pain is only pain and that it is only temporary. Keep me calm, as worry and freaking-out never helped anyone. Please help me to remember my husband in this time, that he was the first person I committed my life to. May I not be so involved in myself and this baby that I forget to love him well. May I also see beyond my own needs and emotions to those around me, to friends, family, strangers, nurses, and doctors. Keep me from being self-consumed. May I already set the example for my child now in pregnancy and during birth. Remind me of the positive birth stories I know and of the amazing women they belong to. May you give me a birth story that can encourage and comfort other new moms. Thank you for this gift. Thank you for this opportunity. Please keep me grateful. 

Passing the Lead

Sometimes you start a new chapter in life without even realizing it. It seems to usually happen when you've gotten into the swing of things, figured it all out and there's a plan in progress. That's when it happens. When one small thing changes everything. My life has happily been full of these changes. I've learned that if I just take a deep breath, remember the greatness of God and the smallness of my "plan", it usually turns out better then I could have ever dreamed. 

So after my last/first show with Gabe I learned that I was pregnant. It was such a mix of joy, relief and anxiety. After 3 early term miscarriages in the beginning of our marriage, this was not a journey I felt ready to take. None the less, I am 6 months pregnant with one very active, healthy little boy and not one complication in sight. In not being ready for the struggles of pregnancy I was also not ready for the blessings it has already brought. I trust God deeper than ever before. My husband has loved and served me unlike anyone else in my life. His love reminds me of Jesus constantly. I was able to quit my job and be completely rested. I turned down a career as an Environmental Scientist. I sold my newly bought truck. All these things felt so un-American, so anti-cultural. It's not that I didn't have options and that by default I am choosing to be a mom. I am actively, happily choosing and stating that being the major influence in my child's life is the most important thing I could possibly do right now and in the future. The hardest part of this for me has not been the loss of a career or of freedom, but the loss of riding my horse. Now I am a huge proponate for listening to your body and your brain when it's comes to physical activity while being pregnant. I also have hailed the women I've heard of that have ridden while pregnant...Mary King, Georgiana Bloomberg, and of course there's Mother Mary. I also have seen many a pregnant equestrian go into this time with great sadness. I've met women in their forties who just began riding again after raising kids and just don't seem to "have it" anymore. They have the courage and spine of a rice cake. However, some of my greatest equestrian heroes are in their forties and could put me to shame in technique, skill, and a numbness to fear. How these women end up in such different places is still something I'm seeking out as I am bound and determined to be one of those later equestrians. However, now is not that time. I think I could've kept on riding for a few more months, but that would be on a differnt horse. You see Gabe is a pleaser and I have been training and pushing him towards perfection and excellence for the past three plus years. When our rides became the equivalent of what our warm-ups use to be I could tell he was bored. He very kindly accepted me how I was, but I couldn't stand it. I could not accept it. Plus, I still have 3 more months to go and it's the beginning of a new show season. I have seen many a horse sit in a pasture and have their talent wasted away. Sometimes one season off becomes years upon years and then a horse that couldn't had a whole other half of their career has just grazed away into obscurity. Now this is perfect for some horses. However, Gabe is the happiest when working and working hard. He is in his prime and I have finally submitted that I will not be the one to lead him forward in this time. I also realize that I have not been the only one to have taken part in Gabe's journey so far. There was his initial rescuer, then my friend who brought me to the horsemanship clinic where we met, vets, farriers, trainers, barn managers, workers and owners. I have been an overseer and coordinator of such and that will continue. But why should I let it stop there. I feel like animals are ment to be blessing, so let him bless. So, through the connections of trainers(thank you!) I was introduced to a young pony club rider in need of a horse. It could not have been a better fit. I remember what it was like when someone else let me ride their horse and I couldn't stop smiling. I never could've expected what it would feel like to give a gift to someone else that was once given to me. Not only that, but I saw the full circle of a horse that was once imaciated and mentally unhealthy now not just being able to be rideable by me, but to be perfectly attuned to this girl and to be a teacher himself. That has been one of the greatest joys and compliments of my riding career. So, yes I have a temporary, selfish sadness that I'm not the one riding Gabe, but it is so far, far outweighed by the joy and fullness of watching that little girl ride and love him. What a gift. Now I can rest and focus on my little baby to come knowing that I have done my best to steward this wonderful horse that was given to me. 

First Show

We finally did it...well, kind of. We made it to our first show. Three years of rehab, training, and a lot of hard hours in the saddle. Not to mention tack, buying a truck and borrowing a trailer. Everything came together. I found a great schooling show at Windridge. I actually had a weekend off from work. I had already been on the show grounds months before, seen the course, reviewed our level and I knew it would be a good test for us. Also, my parents and husband would be there. Yay for a support team:) Then the day came...I couldn't eat a thing. It was one of those days when time slows down when you wish it would hurry up. I had prepared as much as I knew how and now there was nothing left to do but to test myself and my mount. Fortunately and unfortunately you can't learn everything from a video or a trainer, it's through living life and experiencing things where your true makeup is tested. I learned that Gabe is going to do his best to put poop in strange places before a show...like his eye. However, I was prepared for that, because I know my horse. I also learned that people in the warm up ring can get a little out of control. One rider made Gabe so nervous that we just waited on the outside of the ring until they were done. I learned that you never know what to expect. From people walking out of the woods because the couldn't make it to the porter potty to a lady who shoved a stirafome cup between two tree branches as we were entering warmup, you just never know. However, the most important thing I learned is to not let anyone break your concentration, because people, well-meaning or not, will say just about anything. My next ride before dressage just call me Stonewall Jackson, because I'm not talking to a soul. I'm sure that whatever anyone has to say can wait until I finish my little test. Maybe I'll get better at that later, but it's not worth experiencing completely bombing my dressage test again. Another hard lesson learned was that I need to practice my dressage tests in different directions. I knew that I had a "spacial memory", but I had no idea it was that strong. Unfortunately, I had been practicing my dressage test in the complete opposite position from how it was set up at the show. Once I heard that first horn...sigh...I was done for. I lost count of how many times I went off course. Just keep moving and get it over with. Luckily, the judges were very kind and called out the remaining test to me. The worst part is that I felt like I let Gabe down. Here's an animal that is so talented and has come so far, but I couldn't even display that. I constantly battle the doubt that I'm not a good enough rider for him. Then I remember that the past three years of training have been about him. Now it's my turn. At one time all I did was focus on Gabe's weaknesses and we worked on them. Hard. Relentlessly. Now it is his work ethic and achievement that inspires me. I hope I remember that if I happen to go off course in my dressage test again. I also hope I can just find a good place to cry. Maybe, if that had been the case I could've gotten it over with and put myself back together before stadium and xc. Sadly, I couldn't pull myself together. I decided that I wouldn't be safe riding Gabe in the next two tests as I was on the verge of a meltdown and I still had to safely trailer home. My husband kindly withdrew for me and both he and my parents helped pack everything up and trailer out as my stadium round was starting. I will always be grateful for that.

It's been almost 4 months since that show. I still remember laying on the couch for what seemed days...trying to get the sound of a horn out of my head. I've had nightmares about dressage tests. But that's not all. I went to a dressage clinic and was so inspired. Friends called. Gabe was sweet and wonderful to ride. I watched USEA clinic videos. I listened to the stories of others. And you know what? I am not the first show heart-break nor will I be the last. Also, the people who have overcome these types of scenarios are the ones who are the strongest and enduring athletes. I was listening to an interview of a pro snowboarder who lost her first Olympics because she fell moments before the finish line to win the bronze. And yet now as she has returned to try for the gold she said that her proudest and most meaningful moment would be winning her bronze metal, because that was the moment when she learned who she was and was tested to her fullest capacity. I feel the same. I still have my bridle number from the show and I look at it every day. Because it reminds me of where I've come from and where I want to go. It reminds me that that will not be my last show experience, but only my first. It will be my inspiration to focus on my weaknesses and lack of show experience. It's not a failure, but just another lesson. And as my husband reminded me, my main goal was just to make it to my first show. So, now back to the drawing board. It's time to learn some more, soak up everything I can, ride and one day try again. 

The Nos

Have you ever felt like you hear "No" at every turn. No, you can't do this. No, that's too hard. No, that would take way too much effort. No, just give up or don't even try. It seems to me that not every "No" means your going in the wrong direction, it may just be a test of your resolve. Instead of "No" being a statement, what if it was a question? "No?" feels so much different than "No." It also requires a response. So, then the once statements from above become questions. You need to make a decision instead of receiving one. You're not being told what to do by your circumstances or by chance, but you are taking captive your actions and moving into a forward, decisive mindset. I for one have never been very good at being told "No" in the first place. It feels like defeat. Maybe it's just personality, but it may also be that I come from a long line of extraordinary people who never took it for an answer, unless it was the wise choice. They didn't take it because it was the easiest thing to do or because that's what everyone else around them was doing. My heritage is from a strong people. Stubborn. Headstrong. Solid. Powerful. And I now accept that heritage whole-heartedly. It came to good use in my most recent adventure with Gabe:

My current barn owner has been generous enough to let me borrow her horse trailer now that I have a truck and so on the first Saturday that I had off from work I asked to borrow it to take Gabe xc schooling. I also was hoping to do a "test-run" for our up-coming first show.  I planned to go to a barn where we had been before. It had a great xc training facility and was only an hour away, plus I knew the owners. So, bright and early David and I got up, hooked up the truck and trailer, loaded Gabe and arrived at the facility by 8:30 am with the morning dew still thick in the air. It looked like we were in Scotland.  It looked so promising, then I realized that the dew wasn't the only thing thick in the air. The xc course was so overgrown you would've needed a machete to get through it.  When I walked out to the first jump, David could just see the top of my hand waving at him. I'm 5'7. Ridiculous. Then the owner, whom I had contacted ahead of time to make sure I could use the xc course, came out of the barn, saw us, and then promptly drove off. Insert your own boiling angry description here. Once my anger passed I cried...for the second time that day and it wasn't even 9 am. Eish. The sun had barely risen and defeat was already on the horizon. So, which was it going to be..."No." or "No?".  Both went through my head. Both seemed to be an option. Then I realized that if I accepted a small "No." like this, I wasn't going to achieve anything.  So, I put on my big girl breeches and made a decision. I made sure David was still hanging in there with me and we decided that today I was going to xc school on Gabe no matter what. That was my answer. Now I just had to find a way.  We ended up driving to Gibes Farm in St. Matthews, SC. It was 2 1/2 hours away, we had to go through horrid Columbia traffic, and we arrived in the heat of the day, but we did it. It was so worth it. The facility was AMAZING. It was well maintained and well planned out. Plus, we had the place to ourselves, since all the sane people whose plans hadn't fallen apart had left around 12:30. The only issues I had was when a seemingly pale Indian statue on course came to life and scared me senseless.  It turned out David had left his spot at the rig, taken his shirt off, but left it on his head, and was stoically watching me with his arms crossed.  I thought it was a carving honoring our Native American heritage and didn't give much more thought to it until it moved. The only other thing to go "wrong" was that Gabe kept falling over like a fainting goat when I went to put the studs into his shoes. This is why test-runs are so important. At first I freaked mentally. I thought, "No way he's that tired from a 3 hour trailer ride. How are we going to go xc or even get home?" Then, I remembered that with his new 5-point harness he magically feels like it's connected to some great string in the sky when you pick his feet up and he seemingly forgets to balance on the other three legs and falls over. Bizarre, yes. From now on I will pick his feet and put in his studs before the harness goes on. Fainting goat.  Other than those two things it was a great experience. He also got "style points" from David when we lost momentum coming up to a log on a hill and Gabe slid both legs over the front of the log and stopped. We were obviously leaving our caboose behind. What's a horse to do? He put both back feet on the jump and pushed off. I don't know if that counts as jumping, but we made it over. Later we were able to get into a decent rhythm and Gabe jumped confidently by the end. I worked on my position and responding to him promptly. We're trying to work on resolving the "wet noddle" approach to jumps. I also saw jumps that inspired me and I realized the talent of the people and horses that could jump them. At the end of my ride I told David, "I wish I would've had a trainer with me today to help me know what other jumps I could do" as I had kept it very easy and simple. He said, "Which other ones do you want to do?" My response, "All of them!"

Our next question has since surfaced. There is a Schooling Horse Trials coming up at Windridge Farm this August 24th and I plan on entering.  So, tonight I went on Event Entries to complete our forms and their website is down. "No." you say? Ha. We've heard that before.

Studs and Trucks

By studs I mean the kind the you put in your horse's shoes...for those that were wondering. About six months ago I had a very difficult time keeping a consistent farrier.  I'm sure anyone who has ever had a horse can attest to this.  I've tried bringing them cookies, sweet tea, and even setting them up under fans in the shade in the summer time.  However, when they're just barefoot trimming one horse they just don't make that much money. I get it. My bribery only seemed to get me invitations for a night out, not a consistent trim. So, when Gabe developed a quarter crack after a too long wait between trims I was crest-fallen.  I told the barn manager to grab the next farrier that came to the barn to have him done...unfortunately I wasn't there.  I'm one of those horse owners that likes to be there for every vet visit, hoof trim, deworming, etc., and this is why. I came back to a trim with a long toe and short heel with the crack notched wide open in the shape of a triangle.  The angles themselves would've been great had I been a barrel racer or was planning a sliding stop in the next 6-8 weeks, but that's usually the last thing you want to do in eventing.  After that visit I continued to try and contact my past farrier who had been MIA the past 16 weeks, who also trimmed/shoed ~10 horses at that barn. I still could not get him to respond to me, nor was he responding to the other owners. So, when the time came for Gabe's feet to be done, the day before my "almost 1st schooling show", I trimmed them.  Minus my back giving out it went really well and made me appreciate farriers that do show up and do a good job. Well, a day after the failed schooling show(another story), I get a call from another owner saying that the MIA farrier came out and I owe him for trimming Gabe. Though he did say that his feet looked really good...he was surprised since he hasn't been out there in over 16 weeks. He did not call me or ask if my horse needed to be trimmed and now Gabe was lame.  I could've punched him.  However, I just called and left a voicemail explaining Gabe had just been trimmed the day before and to never trim my horse again without me being there or actually asking him to come and how much he wanted to be paid for laming my horse.  I never got a call back. So, many weeks have since past and I have now found a wonderful, consistent, on time farrier! But the quarter crack still hasn't gone away...even with trimming every 6 weeks. Sigh. I've always said I'd know when it was time to put shoes on Gabe. I preferred keeping my horses barefoot.  I've seen so many horrific shoeing mishaps to last me a lifetime; bowed tendons, heels being cut open, hoof walls being ripped off.  Plus it is much more expensive and you have to have a reliable farrier.  Also, unless you want to slip and slide all over cross-country or a grass jumping ring, you're going to have to get those shoes "drilled and tapped" and start using studs. And if your horse over-reaches then they've got to practically live in bell boots the rest of their lives. The whole thing is such a hassle and I was more then reluctant to sign up for it.  I actually started to cry the day Gabe had his first shoes put on.  I could just envision everything that would go wrong. This is where being Pre-vet and having done a large-animal externship at UGA works against you. However, since Gabe has gotten shoes his crack hasn't moved a centimeter. Awesome. Plus, there's this feeling that came with putting studs in his shoes...it was a nostalgic feeling, like I was becoming a "real" eventer.  Kind of like when a baby getting their first shoes and you realize their actually walking. It was one of those moments you realize,"I'm actually doing this". So, shoes and studs it is. 

Now for a truck. I've been researching for over a year what kind of truck to get and how I could afford it. The words have been echoing in my head that this was the year I was going to do my first show, or just give up. What does that mean? Practically, it means a horse, a truck, a trailer, and a lot of horse-paraphernalia. Well, I have the horse, some of the paraphernalia and now I have the truck. The experience couldn't have gone better.  I remember seeing it in this little lot and thinking in my head, "Oooooo".  I asked David if we could stop and look at it after dinner and we did.  The dealer was still out there, which we weren't expecting, but he was very nice and not creepy. He even let me test drive hauling with it the next day.  The day we bought it David said, "How does it feel?" and I said,  "Good". Which is my usually "respond in a non-monologue way when I'm super excited". Then he said, "How does it make you really feel?". Oh, he wants the REAL answer. So, this is something close to how I responded: It makes me feel free and adventurous, knowing I can load up my horse and go anywhere I want.  I can just envision the hours of riding in new and different places. It's the thrill of future challenges to come. It's feeling safe on the road. Please, ride my bumper and smash into my hitch.  It's the feeling of fulfillment of a dream long dreamed, a hope long hoped.  That same day we bought the truck I also bought some new breeches for showing(one of the best equestrian days ever) and I made a very helpful friend at The Farm House who helped me find some breeches for my "curves, curves, curves".  She was absolutely delightful and after she found out that I was planning my first show and had just bought a truck, I saw the same look in her eyes that I know is in mine. She said, "Ride for me".  Turns out she doesn't have a horse, truck or trailer and that is her dream too. It was a good reminder before I move forward to remember how far I've come and to remember that there are others dreaming to. And that when I do show and I see other who have the best of the best that I shouldn't be intimidated or jealous, but happy for them, that they are living out their dream. 

Rolex 2013

I sit and feel the stillness of an early morning surrounded by fog. I love mornings like this. Mornings that seem as if hope and promise are encapsulated in the dew around you. Then the stillness is broken by birds serenading the sun to come into full bloom and the day to begin. It's such a beautiful moment that I rarely take the time to notice anymore, and yet this happens every day all over the world. Is it by chance that mornings seem to hold such hope, such anticipation of things to come? I doubt it. At this moment my heart and mind are filled with it.

Rolex this year was such a different experience for me from the first year that I went. It was 3 yrs ago that I first watched "Rolex" unfold on the blue hills of Kentucky and I will probably never be the same. I'd never experienced one sport before that culminated all of my desire for challenge, power, speed, finesse, athleticism, courage, discipline, and horsemanship all in one. When I arrived this year I was still awe inspired by the facility, the courses, the riders and horses, but it wasn't as overwhelming as it had once been. The jumps looked do-able, the dressage movements achievable, and the dream possible. That first year when I said, "I want to do this", it was with a somewhat reckless courage, lack of fear, and love of a challenge that propelled me forward. Now, it is still with courage, but with a good deal more respect and calculation that I continue on. This time 3 years ago I was barely riding, I didn't have a horse and I wasn't jumping. Now, I have a horse that was given to me as an answer to prayer, who is as talented and athletic as I ask him to be and I also have an amazing support system in my husband, family and trainer. God really does care about the little things and the longings of your heart. I felt so dumb the day I finally broke down and asked God to give me a horse or send me to Vet school. Not a week later He arranged through the most intricate of details to give me that very horse. I hope I never forget that. God has been so faithful in caring for he deepest desires of my heart. I just had to actually ask him.

The Suburban Horsewife

The Suburban Horsewife may be one of the more appropriate terms for what to call me. I was thinking about this the other day while driving and seeing all of the stickers that people put on their cars to identify themselves. I began to ponder what a sticker would like like that would define me...the next image that popped into my mind made me smile at its ridiculousness. Just imaging one of those female stick figures with a ponytail sitting on a horse with a Clemson tattoo on its but, while I'm hugging a tree in one hand, frying pan in the other, broom and cleaning products strapped to the saddle, with laboratory gloves and goggles on, two dogs and husband in the mix, and a large cross cascading over the outline of Africa surrounding this whole mess. Ha! Defined! Now let's put it in a box and then all the Americans can attempt to be abated while still terribly confused. This is my life and I have chosen every bit of it. So often I see people who just trade in one thing for the other...ex- horses are traded for children, job, age, education or boyfriend/husband. And yet if there is one thing that I have learned that seems universal, it is that if it matters to you, truly matters, then you will find a way to make it happen. That's why people's excuses seem so frail to me. Now reasons are one thing, but excuses are another...and they're a cop-out. Reasons and circumstances may explain you, but they don't have to define you. I think of this constantly as I want so badly to take Gabe to our first competition. And we're ready. We've been ready. We may not win, but we are ready to test ourselves and to try. I told David the other day, "I have been talking about competing for almost 8 years now. I am tired of talking about it. I want to actually do it. And if I'm not going to do it then I just need to give up and shut up about it". There was a pause and then I said, "But we both know I'm not very good at giving up" and he smiled at me.
So now that we've finished building our house and moved in, all I need to do is get a truck and trailer, dressage saddle, a few more show clothes, pants that fit(because I've lost 25lbs) and the best 1st timers show situation planned out with trainer on hand. Just maybe this will all happen before 2014, but if not then I guess you won't hear about it...

Colic

These past 6 months have been the most challenging with Gabe. We went through our first colic scare together. Apparently, he didn't drink enough water the one day that it snowed and that was all it took to begin 48 hrs of a colic nightmare. To be honest it went really well for it being a bad situation. I noticed the symptoms very early, the Vet was out in an hour, he was diagnosed and medicated within two hours. The rest was just the hard work portion...walking him every hour for the first 12 hours and then feeding 1/4 of his food every 3 hours and a lot more walking. I discovered several things through this experience. First of all, there is nothing like a punctual and trustworthy Vet, who actually loves what they do. Thank you Dr. Metcalf at Tryon Equine Hospital! Secondly, you learn a lot about a persons personality in times of trouble. My barn owner let me sleep in his cabin and use his wood stove throughout the 30 degree night. The dogs were welcome as well, with Tamu on my lap and Duke under my arm we stayed warm on an old couch for our 1 hr sleep intervals. I was so grateful for those two dogs! They have been such good friends to me. My boss let me have the next day off...I love working for an animal lover! David drove 3hrs, before going in to work a night shift, to pick up my Dad's truck and my sisters stethoscope. A cowboy that I had spoken with only a few times was willing to let me use his trailer if things went poorly and we had to move Gabe to the Equine Hospital. And one of my sweet friends texted me that she was praying for Gabe and kept checking up on him:) Overall, I realized how blessed I am to be surrounded by caring and generous people, people who say, "Call me if you need anything". And they mean it.
Now we are on the mend. I've celebrated horse flatulence and BMs like never before. Gabe loves his new soaked Timothy hay and I find myself quite jealous of it some mornings as it's steaming in the morning light and I'm eating a piece of toast. He seems to get the same enjoyment out of it as I do a nice cup of tea in a comfy chair. The interesting part of all this is that Gabe nickers to me now. In the 3 years I've owned him he has probably done that twice and the same goes for talking to other horses. He's the quite, silent type. But now he nickers to me just about every time I come out to the barn. Love it! He also comes galloping up to come see me...commence melting heart and warm fuzzies:) It's those moments that make sleepless nights and expensive vets bills worth it. It's for those moments that people who love me or are just kind strangers rearranged their schedule to help me. And yet we are so far away from our riding goals, but it's moments like that that I wouldn't trade for any great equestrian accolade in the world. My horse knows I love him and he loves me back. Immeasurable. Priceless.