Hello from grumpyland! I found out a week ago I am pregnant. It shouldn't really have come as a big surprise given that OH and I agreed to start trying and drew up a spreadsheet of 'likely' days. It seems, however, OH and I are super-fertile, and the 6-8 months of trying most websites lead you to believe were actually 6-8 minutes in our case, much to the distress of OH! I am what will probably be referred to by health care professionals as a 'mature mother,' which means I'm not going to tell you how old I am, but a quick scan round this forum reveals I'm older than most of you.
I'm really rather looking forward to having a mini-me, but the current state of affairs has REALLY put the kibosh on life as we know it. And my current lifestyle means keeping anything of this matter at all is nigh on impossible. To start with - I'm an airline pilot. Yes, you read that right. And have you ever seen a pregnant pilot? No, neither have I. So I'm grounded, and tying to explain to people that I've just been having a few days off when they ask me where I've been this week is not too hard at the moment, but will get harder and harder the longer it goes on. Work would like to put me down on the roster sheets as MD (maternity duties) but I have managed to pursuade them to go with GD (ground duties) so all my 3000+ colleagues don't know I'm pregnant before my mum does. Then there's the small matter of what I'm going to do for the next 8 months. Work would like me to go into the office 5 days a week, 9-5. NO WAY! When I bought a house an hour and a half away from work I was planning on driving in once a week, not every day. And office work - please! I know lots of people love it, but I'm not one of them. I just like tootling along in my aeroplane, watching the clouds go by. So I'm lying low at the moment and hoping they'll forget about me (not likely) or find me the most exciting training manual rewrite project I can do from the comfort of my sofa (that's more like it!)
Oh - and I get a paycut for being pregnant, even if I have to go into work more. Nice!
Then we've got the small matter of my hobby. Or large matter, if you want to look at it that way. I can't go to work at the moment (and I love my job) and now I can't even destress with my hobby. Every waking minute is usually taken up plotting and planning my latest training strategy for the 'next big thing'. The NBT is my horse. He is huge. The day I found out I was pregnant was the day I got my membership documents for the British Show Jumping Association through the post (I had sent off for them before we started trying, which wasn't THAT long ago.) So I guess showjumping's out then? All of the grooms at the stable yard know. One of my best friends is the yard manager and she didn't want me doing stuff at the yard without the grooms knowing so they could dash to my assistance if necessary. Which means I am now being babysat by a bunch of paranoid 19 year old girls who daren't be the one in charge if I fall off.
Now I can hear the gasps and shreiks of horror from here. 'OMG - pregnant woman riding a horse!' Well, I'm going to carry on doing it. My doctor - a rather sturdy older country lady - said to me 'carry on doing what you do now, and don't eat liver.' And that's all the advice she had for me. She probably has 50 pregnant horse-riding women a year in this neck of the woods, and I'm just one more. I have banned myself from anything except 'flatwork,' ie no jumping or galloping (although Mary King became European three day event champion when she was 5 months pregnant. I think I'll just have to resign myself to becoming a dressage diva.) I've had a week of flatwork and I'm bored silly with it. So is the horse. I've also started teaching his to stand beside the picnic table for me to get off. Chatting to other horsey mothers reveals that the biggest problem with riding while pregant is getting off comfortably, and I've got further to get down than most. Still - I've started eyeing up lead rein ponies and baby basket saddles already!
I'm thinking I'm going to have to reveal my secret to everyone I know before Christmas. I can't keep up the 'detoxing' excuse forever with regard to alcohol, people keep asking me where I've been with work, I keep getting invites to go out hunting with friends and keep having to blame the horse's dodgy knee for not going, and it'll get really hard to explain things when I have to go into work 20+ days a month (I only work about 16 days a month at the moment. This particular aspect seems most unfair.) I'm also due to visit my brother for New Year (I go every year to see him) and he's a ski instructor. I used to be one too, and while I trust myself to ski safely without falling over, you really can't trust everyone else. I may pay extra for the breakfast skiing sessions where you have the slope to yourself, but I'm still going to have to explain my odd behaviour somehow.
Oh, it's all so hard! I know it will be so much easier once the cat is out of the bag and I've got excuses for every variant of weirdness going. I'll cheer up too when I know what manner of pregnancy purgatory work are going to throw at me - at least then I'll be able to call the girls who had that particular job before and find out how they handled it.
So there we go. A long first post, but I'm bored. And I have verbal diorrhea at the best of time. Ciao for now.
I'm really rather looking forward to having a mini-me, but the current state of affairs has REALLY put the kibosh on life as we know it. And my current lifestyle means keeping anything of this matter at all is nigh on impossible. To start with - I'm an airline pilot. Yes, you read that right. And have you ever seen a pregnant pilot? No, neither have I. So I'm grounded, and tying to explain to people that I've just been having a few days off when they ask me where I've been this week is not too hard at the moment, but will get harder and harder the longer it goes on. Work would like to put me down on the roster sheets as MD (maternity duties) but I have managed to pursuade them to go with GD (ground duties) so all my 3000+ colleagues don't know I'm pregnant before my mum does. Then there's the small matter of what I'm going to do for the next 8 months. Work would like me to go into the office 5 days a week, 9-5. NO WAY! When I bought a house an hour and a half away from work I was planning on driving in once a week, not every day. And office work - please! I know lots of people love it, but I'm not one of them. I just like tootling along in my aeroplane, watching the clouds go by. So I'm lying low at the moment and hoping they'll forget about me (not likely) or find me the most exciting training manual rewrite project I can do from the comfort of my sofa (that's more like it!)
Oh - and I get a paycut for being pregnant, even if I have to go into work more. Nice!
Then we've got the small matter of my hobby. Or large matter, if you want to look at it that way. I can't go to work at the moment (and I love my job) and now I can't even destress with my hobby. Every waking minute is usually taken up plotting and planning my latest training strategy for the 'next big thing'. The NBT is my horse. He is huge. The day I found out I was pregnant was the day I got my membership documents for the British Show Jumping Association through the post (I had sent off for them before we started trying, which wasn't THAT long ago.) So I guess showjumping's out then? All of the grooms at the stable yard know. One of my best friends is the yard manager and she didn't want me doing stuff at the yard without the grooms knowing so they could dash to my assistance if necessary. Which means I am now being babysat by a bunch of paranoid 19 year old girls who daren't be the one in charge if I fall off.
Now I can hear the gasps and shreiks of horror from here. 'OMG - pregnant woman riding a horse!' Well, I'm going to carry on doing it. My doctor - a rather sturdy older country lady - said to me 'carry on doing what you do now, and don't eat liver.' And that's all the advice she had for me. She probably has 50 pregnant horse-riding women a year in this neck of the woods, and I'm just one more. I have banned myself from anything except 'flatwork,' ie no jumping or galloping (although Mary King became European three day event champion when she was 5 months pregnant. I think I'll just have to resign myself to becoming a dressage diva.) I've had a week of flatwork and I'm bored silly with it. So is the horse. I've also started teaching his to stand beside the picnic table for me to get off. Chatting to other horsey mothers reveals that the biggest problem with riding while pregant is getting off comfortably, and I've got further to get down than most. Still - I've started eyeing up lead rein ponies and baby basket saddles already!
I'm thinking I'm going to have to reveal my secret to everyone I know before Christmas. I can't keep up the 'detoxing' excuse forever with regard to alcohol, people keep asking me where I've been with work, I keep getting invites to go out hunting with friends and keep having to blame the horse's dodgy knee for not going, and it'll get really hard to explain things when I have to go into work 20+ days a month (I only work about 16 days a month at the moment. This particular aspect seems most unfair.) I'm also due to visit my brother for New Year (I go every year to see him) and he's a ski instructor. I used to be one too, and while I trust myself to ski safely without falling over, you really can't trust everyone else. I may pay extra for the breakfast skiing sessions where you have the slope to yourself, but I'm still going to have to explain my odd behaviour somehow.
Oh, it's all so hard! I know it will be so much easier once the cat is out of the bag and I've got excuses for every variant of weirdness going. I'll cheer up too when I know what manner of pregnancy purgatory work are going to throw at me - at least then I'll be able to call the girls who had that particular job before and find out how they handled it.
So there we go. A long first post, but I'm bored. And I have verbal diorrhea at the best of time. Ciao for now.
)
I'd forgottton that being a horsey mum means that 
